A PARLEY AND A PLAN
“Ahoy, _Senorita_!” came the second hail. Nicky scrambled from his
wicker chair and started for the companion door; Tom looked at Cliff and
then, catching his eye, glanced at the arsenal. Cliff nodded.
“I don’t know if the rifles are loaded,” Tom commented, picking one up
and breaking the breach—with a shake of his head closing it. “They
aren’t. But they may come in handy.” They carried the weapons as they
came on deck.
Nicky had taken a position beside the little wheelhouse, watching the
tender, manned by Tew and one sailor, come around the islet close to
which their boat was careened against the coral.
“Hello!” hailed Tew, catching sight of Nicky. “You boys got lost in the
shuffle! Thought you was overboard maybe. We’ll take you off. We are
hidin’ on a good island—we can climb the trees and be safe when the
cutter comes.”
Cliff and Tom ranged up beside Nicky.
“We’re not going, are we?” whispered Cliff. Nicky shook his head.
“Stay away!” he called. “We aren’t going to leave here.”
Cliff and Tom, rifles held in a menacing position, ranged up beside
Nicky. The sailor stopped rowing, allowing the tender to drift about
fifteen feet from the _Senorita_. Tew muttered some unpleasant word.
“You don’t want to be there when the revenue men come,” he said. “If you
do, we don’t mean you to be!”
He spoke to the sailor, but in face of two rifles, the man said
something under his breath and Tew nodded.
“Look here!” Tew called, “if they get you you’ll tell where we are! That
won’t do! Come—be sensible—we’ll get you one way or another. Come
decent, and we won’t harm you—but come you will!”
“Is that so?” exclaimed Nicky defiantly. “Well we won’t! You’d better go
away!”
Tew and the sailor held a short conference. At Tew’s gesture the sailor
poised the oars, while Tew tugged at a weapon in his belt. Tom leaped up
onto the cabin roof, to have a better place from which to pretend to
cover the sailor, but an inspiration came to him and he acted upon that
instead.
Pretending to glance by accident toward the larger expanse of the open
Gulf he dropped the rifle, and waved his arm, then dragged out a
handkerchief and waved that wildly.
“Here she comes!” he shouted. “Cutter—ahoy!”
With a common fear Tew snatched up a second pair of oars as the sailor,
with a mighty heave on one oar, began to swing his tender in a circle;
then both began to row away around the islet with all their strength,
while Nicky and Tom, seeing Cliff’s deception, and knowing that it had
succeeded because the men thought they could see from the cabin top what
was invisible on the water line, leaped up beside their comrade and
began to hail and to wave their arms.
The tender was quickly out of their sight, and yet they kept up their
shouting, until, at a sign from Cliff, they desisted.
“Well, that’s over—for the time!” Cliff said thankfully.
“But we’re worse off than ever,” Tom added. “They’ll watch——”
“No they won’t!” Nicky argued. “They’ll hide. We are not so badly off.
We can load the guns and if we have to we can shoot over their heads
when they come back after us!”
“But they have guns, too,” objected Cliff.
“Well,” Nicky proposed, “let’s fix the cabin so we can take refuge
there, barricade it. There’s all the food for a long siege, and we can
command the doors from those portholes.”
Tom caught their arms, and with a swift whisper and a nod toward a
moving figure on the islet, caused them to begin to wave their hands and
to beckon, all looking out toward the Gulf.
Tom had espied a creeping figure, low on the ground. Tew, with some
purpose in his mind, had landed on the islet and crept across to the
side nearest the stranded vessel. Cliff covered him and called softly,
“Stay where you are, Mr. Tew!”
The figure on the ground flattened and stopped.
“I won’t hurt you—I wa’n’t goin’ to hurt you!” he called softly. “How
clost are they?”
“About half a mile off the coast,” Nicky answered, hoping his untruth
would be forgiven under the circumstances.
“I just wanted to warn you—if you let them take you off, don’t say
nothing about us—and then no harm’ll come to you. But if any of us gets
nabbed—we’ll take care not all are—we’ll hunt you down if it takes all
our lives!”
“All right!” called Tom quickly, neither agreeing nor refusing.
Tew waited a moment, then seemed to decide that he had better not stay
there since they had discovered him and he could not watch. He crept
back out of sight at the far side of the islet, behind its small,
tangled trees and bushes, and the chums turned again to their plan.
“One of you go down and see if the cabin doors can be fastened,” Nicky
urged. “Tom—you go! Cliff, can’t that skylight on top of the cabin be
battened down?”
“Yes—there’s a covering—but——”
“I know it won’t help once they get on top—but having it fastened would
make it take longer to get to us. And we’d have the light switches and
could light the mast light if they come at night.”
Tom returned to the deck.
“Either of you got a screw driver blade on your jackknife?” he asked. “I
closed the cabin door, but the lock sticks and when I wrenched at the
knob to open it again, the screw was loose that holds the knob to the
shackle, and it just turned in my hand and I had to screw in the threads
with my finger nail to get it to turn at all.”
“I have one,” said Cliff, but as he produced his knife he went on, “but
I’d like to have you listen to a different plan.”
“All right,” agreed Nicky and Tom.
“The trouble with the cabin is that they can come at it from the after
deck, at the blank rear bulkhead back of the engines, and we can’t cover
the decks.”
“That’s so,” Nicky conceded.
“So I think we ought to do some other way,” Cliff urged. “And I wish
you’d tell me what you think of this: Suppose we take it for granted
that they won’t come back for at least an hour—they will scatter and
hide because they don’t know but that the cutter may be coming. In that
time we can swim over to that island with the heavy trees, after we’ve
dumped the guns into the water and flung things around to make them
think the cutter’s men have searched a little.”
“That’s a corker!” exclaimed Nicky. “Much better than my plan. They will
think the cutter took us off and we were too scared to tell where they
were, and then they won’t come back or bother us any more.”
“That’s my idea,” Cliff nodded.
They lost no time carrying it out. Tossing a good deal of dunnage out of
cupboards, to simulate the result of a hurried search for liquor or
evidence, and dropping the rifles overboard where they showed on the
clear bed of coral, as they supposed the officers would do, the chums,
carefully making certain by shinning up the short mast that no boat was
within immediate range, leaped over the side.
The deeper channel was not wide; they made for an island on the far
side, and there, wading up through the ooze covered bed-stone, they got
on fairly firm ground and selected good spots in which to lie in case of
need for hiding.
Then, by turns, they took up a watch toward the Gulf, alternating with a
look once in a while toward the channel and the wrecked boat.
But for some reason the hi-jackers did not return. All day the chums
watched, but without result.
“They must have decided that we went away, or they are afraid that a
rowboat might be cruising among the islets,” Cliff said. “I wish we had
brought something to eat!”
“I thought of it,” Tom said, “but I guessed that they would come back
before night and then leave us alone. And no cutter has shown itself.
Well—shall we swim back before dark?”
“No,” counseled Cliff, “let’s wait. They may come back after dark.”
Night closed down clear and with the stars very bright it was possible
to watch easily. And, about eight o’clock, Tom, on guard, whispered to
attract his comrades. They all made out the tender creeping quietly
toward the careening hulk across the channel from them.
“If only we could get their boat—” Cliff mused.
“Well, maybe we can!” exclaimed Nicky. “Let’s swim back closer and see
what we can see!”
“But if they discover us—” objected Tom.
“They aren’t looking for us, I feel sure,” Cliff said. “They won’t be
watching the water in this direction. They are getting their food and
things, it is most likely.”
Going carefully, using a stroke that sent them through the water with
little sound, they soon came close enough to see clearly the situation.
One man sat, apparently waiting, in the tender, at the forward quarter;
the chums held their breath and let themselves sink to the lowest point
they could, till their feet touched the bottom, when they discovered
him. But, either because he was half asleep, or from confidence that
there was no one around, he sat slumped in the stern, and did not appear
to notice anything unusual.
Treading water, catching finally the low rail where it almost dipped
into the limpid water, at the shore side of the listing boat, Nicky,
Cliff and Tom drew close together.
There was no one on deck. From the cabin came sounds of voices.
“I’m going to see—” whispered Cliff, and he began to climb up cautiously
onto the deck. Nicky and Tom followed his example, but remained at the
rail as he made a peremptory gesture to them to “stay back!”
Cliff crept closer to the cabin and when no one appeared and his courage
rose, he became bolder and slipped on his wet feet to the cabin doorway.
He listened a moment and then crept back to his chums and whispered
rapidly.
Taking Cliff’s screwdriver-bladed knife, Tom went to the rearward door,
into the engine room, and with the knife removed the screw from its
knob, leaving the inner side of the door with no means of opening it.
Then he “stood by,” watching, listening.
In the bows, hiding his face, using as gruff an imitation of Tew’s voice
as he could, Cliff hailed the man in the boat in a low tone. “Come into
the cabin, you,” he said. Then he hurried away.
Presently those in the cabin—Don Ortiga, Tew, their sailors and the
cook, were surprised to see the boatman appear in their midst.
Before they could question him or get his inquiry as to what they
wanted, the door behind him slammed as did the engine room door.
There was confusion, then oaths, then excited stamping; of course the
time it took them to discover that they were trapped was not long; nor
did it take overlong to get the knob back onto the door after an excited
hand wrenched it away. But the time was enough.
When the infuriated members of the hi-jacker band finally raced up the
deck toward their tender, they found the dipped end of a rope as a
memento.
The Mystery Boys, well away and out of sight around the island, were
rowing the captured tender with all their strength.
“We can’t——claim salvage!” panted Nicky. “But we are out of the grip of
those men—and we have a boat—we’re free men again!”
“And there’s a light—a boat or something, up the coast,” cried Tom.
“Nicky, pull hard on your port oar—you too, Cliff.”
“Right-o!” they answered with a will, pulling the tender on a swinging
curve. “We’ll pull for it. It may be the cutter!”
It was stationary, and not very far away; but as they neared it they saw
that it was not the cutter.
It was another cabin boat, lying, apparently, at anchor.
Cautioning his chums not to hail until they knew whether it was a
suitable craft for their rescue, they drew slowly closer.
From the vessel came a gruff hail.
“I’ve got you covered!” it cried. “Two of you put your hands up, and one
pull your boat up alongside till we have a look!”
“Out of the frying pan—” breathed Cliff! He and Tom elevated their hands
and Nicky, with reluctant strokes, drew close to the bow. Tom discerned
a name in glimmering gold against white paint.
“Fellows,” he whimpered, “it’s that boat we saw in Jamaica!”
It was—_El Libertad_!