DICK IS LEFT BEHIND
As Dick ran from the telegraph office and looked about him in search of
the two foreigners, he saw them disappearing around a street corner a
few hundred yards away, but when he arrived at the same spot they were
nowhere in sight. He dashed up the long street scouring each crossing
for a sight of them, but in vain. The town was practically deserted.
Most of the smaller houses were open and vacant. The stores and larger
dwellings were closed and locked. The inhabitants had vacated when the
Federal forces occupied the town some weeks before. La Paz was in too
great a danger of changing hands again to make it comfortable as a place
of habitation.
Small patrols of Federal soldiers sauntered about, but the majority had
returned to the entrenchments which surrounded the town on all sides.
Even women and children were noticeable by their absence, for the
families of the Latin-American soldiers as a rule accompany their
fighting men into the field, living with them on the firing line. Often
the women themselves join in the fray, armed with machetes, and are most
savage and blood-thirsty opponents.
Failing to discover the whereabouts of the German and the Englishman,
Dick was at first at a loss as to his next step. Then he recalled
having met at the station a few days before Colonel Solorzano Diaz,
nephew to the president of Nicaragua,, and second officer in command at
La Paz. Undoubtedly this officer could give him information of the two
he sought, as it was improbable they could be inside the Federal lines
and not be known to him.
"Is Colonel Diaz in La Paz?" asked Dick of a group of soldiers standing
on a corner.
"Yes, Senor, he is at his headquarters."
"Take me to him at once! I have important news for him!" demanded Dick.
The young soldier who had answered his query now volunteered to act as
guide, and after a ten minutes' walk they came to the Colonel's tent,
erected near a battery of field guns. The smart, military-looking
orderly on duty there halted them and after inquiring their business, he
ushered them into the Colonel's presence.
"You say you are an American and have important news for me?" asked the
handsome young Colonel, immaculately attired in a splendidly fitting
uniform.
"I have, Colonel, and will be glad to tell you what I know if I may see
you alone."
"First, explain how you come to be within our lines. Your arrival has
never been reported to me, senor."
"I met the Colonel three days ago when I delivered a letter from the
Commanding Officer at Camp Pendleton. I am a marine, Senor."
"Why are you dressed as you are, if such is the case?" and the officer
looked Dick over with suspicion in his eyes.
Briefly Dick gave his explanation, but before Diaz would consent to hear
the rest of his disclosures the orderly was directed to telephone
Frederico at the station to verify the statements.
Colonel Diaz was a graduate of an excellent military school in the
United States, and his command was remarkable for training and
discipline, and though Dick fussed over the delay, he nevertheless
admired the native officer for his caution.
Dick now saw that he had erred in not telegraphing to have the train
held at Nagarote until he could explain by wire to the marine officer in
command all the facts in order to permit that officer to govern his
future movements to better advantage. While thinking of this, Colonel
Diaz entered the tent, having gone out in order to talk to Frederico in
person.
"You are Private Comstock, guard for Sergeant Dorlan, special messenger
for the American forces?" he stated in a questioning manner.
"I am."
"I will hear what you have to say. Step outside, orderly, and take the
guard who brought this man here with you." Then turning to Dick, he
said in a most agreeable tone, "Be seated, Senor, and proceed."
Dick now told of his two meetings with the German and Englishman, and of
the conversation he had so fortunately overheard on each occasion.
"Do you mean to say, Senor, that these two gentlemen, Senors Schumann
and Heffingwell, are the men you heard engaged thus?" asked Diaz in
amazement.
"If those are the names of the German and the Englishman I have
described, yes," answered Dick positively.
The black eyes of the officer flashed ominously, and a deep flush
mantled the smooth olive complexion.
"They will pay dearly for this, Senor. Those two men have had many
concessions from my uncle, the president, in the past. They have been
in Nicaragua for some years, and now I understand why they were ever
busy in travelling about on various pleas. Sometimes it was to
investigate the mines, at others to visit the coffee plantations of
Diriamba or the rubber industry of the midlands. But this is not action!
Orderly," and the clear voice rang with decision, "find out at once if
Senors Schumann and Heffingwell have passed the outposts; if not they
are to be brought here immediately."
During the time they waited for the report Colonel Diaz paced up and
down the tent in deep thought, puffing great clouds of smoke from his
cigarette.
"The Captain commanding the outposts, sir, states the two foreigners and
escort of fifteen cavalrymen crossed the southern outpost fully ten
minutes ago. Their passes were in due form and signed by yourself,
sir."
"Yes, I gave them permission to leave at any time that suited their
convenience, and provided an escort for their protection--the same men
who accompanied them in here two days ago with a pass through our lines
from General Pollito."
"Probably rebels in federal uniform," suggested Dick, "and the ones they
depended upon to start the fracas at the station had the train arrived
after nightfall."
"Yes, uniforms these days consist of little more than a ribbon to be
changed as it suits the fancy or the convenience, but the question is,
what should be done in the matter? It is evident they can do nothing to
harm the train. The road, which nearly parallels the track from here to
Managua, is in no shape for fast going. I inspected these men the day
they arrived here. Their horses were worn out and poor at best. Even
the lay-up they have enjoyed would not put them in condition. I will
acknowledge there have been times a man on a good horse could leave here
and arrive at the capital ahead of the train, but never unless it was
held up by carelessness on the part of the native engineers. Nearing
Managua the train has to descend some tortuous grades in the hills and
the wagon road is more direct and gives the horseman the advantage
during the last few kilometers."
"What do you propose to do, Colonel?" asked Dick. "Could you not send
your men out after them and bring them back?"
"I cannot spare the men. We are too few here already, and at any moment
we are expecting an attack. Also I have no absolute proof of their
perfidy which would justify me in taking such drastic measures. They
are under the protection of my superiors, and though I believe your
story, unfortunately I am not the only one who would need to be
convinced. The best that I can do is to telegraph my suspicions to all
points and have them watched carefully from now on."
A scraping on the canvas at the front of the tent attracted Colonel
Diaz's attention.
"Come in," he called, and then as his orderly appeared he added, "What
is it you wish?"
"A telephone message from the station states that the telegraph wires
between here and Nagarote have been cut, sir," reported the soldier, and
at a nod from his superior he withdrew.
"They are at it again," said Diaz quietly; "no sooner do we send out and
repair it than the line is cut at another point."
For a few seconds the officer and the young marine sat lost in thought.
That some disaster threatened the train bearing the battery of field
guns and the marines had become a conviction in Dick's mind. He could
not forget the Englishman's question, "Will the trick work?" and the
German's reply in the affirmative. Dick felt sure that this "trick" was
to occur before Managua was reached, and this being so, what could be
done to prevent it? Could it be prevented? It was certain that he
could not count on help from Colonel Diaz, and now, adding to the
difficulty, the wires were down.
Glancing through the tent opening Dick saw beneath a tree, held by a
uniformed orderly, two spirited horses, saddled and bridled. The sight
at once suggested action to the mind of the worried boy. Anything was
better than this inactivity. Furthermore, Dick knew that if he stayed on
here at La Paz he should never witness the stirring events which were
bound to follow the arrival of the artillery at Managua. Here was a
means of going forward and joining his companions. Possibly too he
might learn something of advantage by following the route taken by
Schumann and his band. It was worth trying.
"Colonel Diaz, may I borrow horses from you and a guide? I wish to
proceed to Managua at once."
"Do you ride--ride well, I mean?"
[Illustration: "DO YOU RIDE?"]
"Yes," replied Dick.
"It is sixty-three kilometers by rail, and about fifty-eight by road to
Managua, senor. It is possible even to cut that distance with a man who
is thoroughly acquainted with the country. A good horseman, well
mounted, should reach there before dark."
"May I have the horses and a guide, Colonel?" and this time Dick looked
enviously at the horses outside. Following the glance Diaz now espied
the impatiently waiting animals.
"Ah! And did you mean my horses? Well, Senor, they are the only two
horses in this camp capable of making the journey," and he said it with
a pardonable touch of pride. "Those are not native ponies. They are
thoroughbreds. I love them as a father would his sons, and----" he
hesitated.
"I will give them good care," said Dick, who, to tell the truth, had no
idea that the Colonel would entrust two such animals in his keeping when
he had asked for horses, but now he thought possibly this would be the
outcome of his request, and thought he understood why Diaz made his
involuntary pause.
"That is not the only consideration, Senor Comstock. Those two horses
are almost as well known as their master. You would be in constant
danger of attack along the way, and seeing you, an American Marine,
riding my horse, every rebel you encountered would do his best to stop
you. They would not hesitate to shoot in case they could not capture
you otherwise. Besides, those whom you seek are between you and your
destination and they would surely hold you up. No, the chances are
against you ten to one."
"Were they a thousand to one, Colonel, I would wish to make the
attempt."
A smile of understanding lit the face of the officer and, rising, he
gripped Dick's hand with warmth.
"I understand! It is the call of duty--of patriotism--and for you my
heart holds naught but admiration, and my hand withholds nothing. You
may take my horses, Senor, and may the good God who watches over brave
men watch over you on your ride to the assistance of your fellow
countrymen."
Colonel Diaz now called the orderly who brought the horses to the tent
door, and turning again to Dick, he said:
"Tomas is an old servant in my household, Senor. He will accompany you
and be under your orders. This paper will pass you through any of the
Federal lines. Again, Senor, I wish you luck. Adios!"
Less than five minutes later Dick, mounted on the powerful black horse
and followed by Tomas Casanave, a full-blooded Indian, was swinging
along beside the railroad on a path which his guide informed him would
save nearly a kilometer at the start.
At the first pond of water they came to, Dick ordered a halt.
Dismounting and ordering Tomas to do likewise, he gathered up a quantity
of mud and began smearing it over the velvety coat of the animal he
rode, over his clothes and shoes, even putting some on his face.
"And why does the Senor do this?" asked Tomas, looking on in amazement
at the proceeding.
"The Colonel told me his horses are known from here to Managua by every
rebel along the line, but they are well known because they are always so
well groomed, for one thing."
"I care for the Colonel's horses, Senor," said Tomas, simply, but with
much pride in his voice.
"By spreading this mud over the horses," continued Dick, "it may help
deceive persons whom we meet. Now, Tomas, turn those saddle cloths,
smear mud on the trappings and harness, and tie your coat in a roll back
of your saddle. Also hide your carbine and its boot where you will be
able to find it on your return, and last, but by no means least, remove
that blue band from your sombrero."
Tomas followed Dick's advice, and by the time he had finished no one
would suspect either of them of belonging to any military organization.
In fact the Tramps' Union, if there be one, would have disowned them.
"In case we are held up you are to answer all questions. I will tie
this handkerchief about my neck, and you may state I am ill and we are
hurrying to Managua to consult a doctor about my throat, which pains me
and prevents me from speaking. Now, Tomas, we have lost time enough.
You take the lead and I will follow. Save every minute, but also
remember these horses must carry us to the end of the journey."
Springing into the saddle they instantly broke into the long lope which
was to be their gait for the coming hours.
When told of the task before him by Colonel Diaz, Tomas had been
anything but pleased at the prospect. He knew the danger of running the
gauntlet of rebel bands infesting the country between La Paz and the
capital city, and he was filled with apprehension. Dick's preparations
won his admiration, and the boy's knowledge of Spanish was another
agreeable surprise. He began to believe they might win through, rebels
or not.
That the foreigners, who had a half hour's start, were following the
same road, was soon discovered by the Indian. Accustomed to reading
signs of the trail he interpreted them for Dick's benefit. Once he
dismounted just before crossing a small stream which trailed across the
road and carefully examined the ground on the far side near the water's
edge.
"They passed here less than ten minutes ago, Senor," he said as he
remounted and splashed across the brook. "I can tell this by the water
which dripped from their horses, and the degree of moisture still
remaining."
On they went to the accompaniment of the thud of the well-shod hoofs,
the creak of leather, the jangle of bit and spur. Tomas was still
watching the road, when without apparent reason he stopped.
"What is the trouble?" asked Dick, reining in the black charger on
arriving abreast of his companion, but before answering the native
looked about him cautiously.
"I have lost their trail, Senor. They have left the road."
"Which way did they turn, Tomas?"
"I cannot tell without going back, but I believe to the right."
"Is there any cross trail or road?"
"No, and there is no reason that I know for them to leave the road."
"Why do you suppose they have done so?"
"Quien sabe?"[#] answered Tomas, giving his shoulders a shrug which
carried as much meaning as his words. "Possibly they are in hiding and
watching us to ascertain if they are being followed. If so, it would not
be wise to retrace our steps in case it is your desire to learn what
became of them. But now that we are evidently beyond them, I think we
are fortunate, and would suggest we proceed at once on our way. So far
we have been unusually lucky, having met with no rebels."
[#] Quien sabe--Who knows?
That there was wisdom in the Indian's words could not be denied, but
Dick felt a distinct sense of disappointment as he looked about him in
the vain hope of seeing something of those they had been following so
closely. About a half mile to the west an almost bare hill stuck its
summit high into the glaring blue sky. Its slopes were cone shaped and
fringed with a short stubby growth. In spite of disappointment, it was
impossible to see the beautiful symmetry of the hill without admiring
it, and as Dick watched, a cloud of smoke burst forth from its apex.
Knowing the volcanic nature of the country he was nevertheless surprised
at the sight, as Mount Momotombo, rising from the waters of Lake
Managua, was the only active volcano in this immediate neighborhood.
"Is that small hill an active volcano, Tomas?" he asked.
The native looked long and searchingly at the smoking hilltop. At first
his face expressed fear and amazement, followed in turn by a look of
question, and then of understanding.
"No, no, Senor, it is not a volcano. It is a signal. Someone is sending
smoke signals."
"Smoke signals? What do they mean?"
"They may mean anything. It is a method used by my people long ago and
often resorted to by the natives of Nicaragua. If you notice the smoke
is interrupted; sometimes long columns, sometimes short clouds or
puffs."
"Are you able to read the message?"
"No! one has to know the code, Senor."
"If I had field glasses, it would be possible to see who is sending the
message," said Dick, straining his eyes to discover if he could detect
any movement on the hill.
"There are binoculars in the saddle-bags belonging to Colonel Diaz,"
exclaimed the native.
Dick placed his hand in the bag, which in the haste of departure from La
Paz had not been removed, and brought forth a powerful pair of prismatic
glasses. Adjusting them to his eyes, the cone-like hill appeared to be
almost within reach of his hand. On the hilltop, more or less screened
by the scrubby growth, were a number of men standing about a fire which
gave forth a thick volume of smoke. Two of the men were moving a
blanket back and forth over the fire, which caused the smoke to rise in
irregular clouds. Half-way down the hill he saw about twenty horses
with a few mounted men tending them.
Again he searched the hill. He was convinced these men made up the band
whose trail they had followed from La Paz, and if he could discover the
two foreigners his suspicions would be verified. As he watched he saw a
man pointing to the southward. The others now turned their heads to
look, and then from the shade of a boulder, he clearly saw both Schumann
and Heffingwell arise and reaching for their binoculars, focus on the
distant point.
"It is our party, Tomas," said Dick; "they are all looking to the south
and evidently pleased at what they see there."
"That indicates their signal is answered," replied Tomas.
"It must be so, Tomas, for they are scattering their fire, and some are
trailing down the hill. All have left now, except the two foreigners.
They are apparently reading a paper between them, though I cannot quite
make out what it is. Yes, it was a paper, for the German rolled it up
and threw it on the ground near the rock on which they had been
sitting."
"The message or the code, Senor," stated Tomas; "if we had it----"
"We shall have it, for I am going to get it. It is too good an
opportunity to let pass, and even though it were nothing, I should not
feel I had done my best if I left here without it."
"We are in plain view from the hill, Senor. If we remain here longer we
may be detected."
"Never fear, they won't get us, but we must take to cover until they
pass, and then secure the paper."
"As the Senor wishes; but having let them precede us again we may have
difficulty in passing them in turn and reaching Managua in safety."
"We must take the chance," replied Dick, with no thought of wavering,
and after replacing the glasses he led the way deep into a rough tangle
of high trees and dense undergrowth at the roadside. Here they awaited
impatiently the reappearance of the horsemen.
Soon the clatter of hoofs and the shouts of men greeted their ears, and
they came galloping up the road.
"Seem to be in a big hurry, all of a sudden," mused Dick as he peeped
through the green branches at their approach.
With the completion of his thought the blood in his veins seemed to
congeal, for the black horse which he rode, hearing the oncoming troop,
pricked his ears, and then before Dick had time to grab the quivering
nostrils to prevent it a loud ear-splitting neigh filled the silent wood
with its tell-tale message.