The best he could do was arrange to go by boat to Cadiz in Spain, trusting to his luck to be able to secure quick passage from there on some coastwise steamer, touching at different African ports. Returning to his office he attended to a few of the most important matters that required his personal attention and prepared to leave. His baggage was already on its way to the steamer, which sailed the following morning. Before saying “goodbye” however, he gave specific instructions as to the completion of the competitive irrigation plans, and their delivery to the New York office of the Sahara Development Organization. As Carl shook hands with Grace, she made a brave attempt at smiling, saying, “Don’t forget to send us a wireless, so that I can meet you at the dock when you return.” After Carl had gone, and she was alone in the outer office, Grace sank heavily into her chair, and pointing her finger at the door through which he had just passed, she muttered, through clinched teeth, “I’ll get you yet. Yes, I’ll be at the dock when you return, all right. And what will happen then will be some surprise to you and your desert vamp.” When one is in a hurry, delay sets in. Such were Carl’s thoughts when the hour of sailing had long passed, and still the steamer remained in her berth. But all delays come to an end sometime, and at noon the vessel was warped from the dock, and soon Carl was waving a farewell to New York’s skyscrapers. As the boat steamed out to sea, Carl thought of the rum-runners he had encountered on his last trip. He wondered whether the boats he saw on the horizon were of that calling. But these were but passing fancies. His thoughts were in Africa, beside a little lake and of a girl, who even now might be in grave danger. The passage to Spain was a slow one it is true, but to Carl it seemed as if they would never get there. The hours of sea travel became days in his fancy and the days ages. Every low-lying cloud bank, he prayed meant land, and when it proved otherwise, he cursed the fact that he did not have a real “Meteor,” like the one of his dream, at his disposal. At last Cadiz hove in sight. Assured by the Captain of the steamer he had come over on, that he could get passage on a freighter or cattleboat engaged in trade along the African coast, he hurried from the ship and immediately sought the offices of the steamship people named by the Captain. Luck smiled kindly on him. There was a vessel leaving that day, destined to Spanish Africa. It was a tramp freighter, but it seemed a floating palace to Carl.