"Which goes to prove that it's not a good thing for nature to provide a man with too easy a living," laughed Dick. "Real labor would be the making of lots of these natives."
To find proper accommodations in Caguas was not an easy matter. There was a small hotel, but this had been visited by fire and no rooms were to be had there.
"I will take you in," said a native, who met them. "My house is the cleanest in the village, señors. Come;" and they followed him almost to the outskirts.
The native's name was Carlos Remora, and all found him "a pretty decent sort of a fellow," to use Robert Menden's manner of expressing it. He was a heavy-set mulatto and spoke very fair English.
"I travel to Florida once," he said, with much pride. "I show a man how to raise oranges. Stay dare two years, den come back here."
"Why didn't you remain in Florida?" queried Don.
"Wife no like it dare—she have all her family here. But now wife dead and Carlos Remora alone in de worl'."
As they had agreed to pay him well, the native provided an excellent supper, baking among other things some delicious cakes made of banana flour, with grated cocoanut on top.
