“Well, that you shall soon have, depend upon it. When we are in power in Costaveza and my cousin, Truxillo de Guzman is dictator, we shall receive our reward.” While this interesting conversation had been going forward in the launch--the talkers taking good care to keep themselves out of sight under the small roof at the stern of the craft--the boys and Stanley, greatly excited at their discovery, had returned to the boat, impatiently to await the return of Lieutenant Timmons. It had been agreed that it was high time to acquaint him with what they had found out. There was not a question in their minds but that the arms were intended for the revolutionists, and that some dishonest custom-house official had been bribed to let them into the country. The officers returned before long, and Ned noticed that Lieutenant Timmons’ brow was clouded, and he looked troubled. He had good reason to. The consul had informed him that the revolutionists had attacked and burned property in the hills back of the town, and in an engagement to the north had routed the government troops. Their next move, he was sure, would be to concentrate and march on the city itself. Already their advance guard was in the hills, only repelled from making an immediate attack by the present strength of the government troops quartered in the city and its environs. The news from the north had, for the time being, been kept a secret for fear of its moral effect on the citizens and the so far loyal army. It had had a distinctly disheartening effect on the government and on the American interests, however. Lieutenant Timmons had been ordered by the department in Washington to use “extreme discretion.” “Hum, discretion! I’d like to use a few six-inch shells,” thought the young officer. As the side of the _Beale_ was reached, and the officers disembarked, Ned touched Lieutenant Timmons’ elbow. “I beg your pardon, sir,” he said, in a low voice, “but could you send for me in a short time?” “Why, certainly, Strong,” said the lieutenant, looking astonished at this extraordinary request, “but----” “I think I can tell you where the rebels are getting their arms, sir,” remarked Ned quietly, touching his cap and sinking back to his oars. Lieutenant Timmons was, like all navy men, trained to repress all show of emotion under any circumstance. Now, however, his eyebrows raised involuntarily, and he gave a surprised whistle. Aloud he said, in a dry, ordinary tone: “Very well, Strong, I will have it attended to.” CHAPTER IX. ON SPECIAL DUTY. “You are sure of this, then?” The voice of Lieutenant Timmons held a tone of deep interest as he gazed at the three blue-jackets standing bareheaded before him in his cabin. At Ned’s request Stanley and Herc Taylor had been included in the summons aft. “Absolutely, sir,” came Stanley’s deep voice. “I’d know the butt of a Crag-Allen machine gun a block away, sir, and then the weight of those cases----”