"Wonderful!" cried Beeby, as he saw the speed the lad was making. "I must get a snapshot of him. I have really lived to see some one in Cuba in a hurry! I must make a picture of it, or no one will believe me when I tell them." He focused his camera on the lad, who, seeing the glistening glass point at him, ducked, and would have run back. "Stop it!" commanded Dick, with a laugh. "Wait until he delivers that letter, Beeby, and then you can snap him going back. He's afraid to come on." The cadet put his camera out of sight, and the boy advanced again. "Is Senor Alantrez on board?" he asked in Spanish. "Yes, yes, I am here! What is it? Is my boy found? Is it news from the scoundrels who carried him away?" and the father was trembling in his eagerness. "It came to the office for you," explained the boy, "and they hurried me down here with it. It arrived through the mail, senor." With a skilful flip of his fingers he sent the envelope scaling on deck, like a miniature aeroplane. Dick tossed the lad some coins, and, picking them up, he ran back up the pier as if some one was after him. "Quick, Beeby!" called Paul, "if you want a snapshot, now's your chance." "Now he's in _too_ much of a hurry," objected the cadet, as he snapped his camera at the fleeing lad. "Wonderful to relate, he's entirely too quick for me." Senor Alantrez was reading his letter. As he finished it he uttered a cry, and extended the missive to Dick. "It is news of my boy!" he exclaimed joyously. "The scoundrels have given him up. Oh, the saints be praised! Now, we can get him--if only he is unharmed. See--read, Senor Hamilton!" The note was brief, and was written in English, which Senor Alantrez was familiar with. Dick perused it: "Senor Alantrez," the letter began. "We regret having been the cause of annoying you, but it was not altogether our fault. We made a mistake. We did not mean to kidnap your son. We wish to restore him to you unharmed, but we do not care, for obvious reasons, to venture back to Santiago. Therefore, we have taken this plan: We will leave your son on a small island, called Stone Island, where you can call for him at your leisure. He will be provided with sufficient food and water to last two weeks, and, in addition, there is food to be had on the place. He will not suffer, as the weather is warm, and there are natural shelters on Stone Island. Regretting the trouble we have caused you, at the same time assuring you that it was unintentional, we beg to remain unknown to you, except as "THE KIDNAPPERS." "Well, what do you think of that?" cried Beeby, when Dick had read the letter aloud. "Talk about nerve!" exclaimed Paul. "What'll you do?" asked Tim Muldoon. "Do, why the best thing is to go to Stone Island," decided Dick, promptly. "This letter may be a fake, but it sounds genuine. Anyhow, it won't be much out of our way to call there; will it, Captain Barton?"