THE ESCAPE FROM THE LAGOON
When the boys awoke it was dark again. They had slept through the day
without a break. Mason, who had been hovering around restlessly all day,
poked his head into the stateroom just as Harry was rubbing his eyes.
"O, say, you chaps, have you returned to life again? Do you know you
have been pounding your ears for thirteen hours?"
"Where are we, Midget?" asked Harry, yawning.
"Still in the blooming lagoon."
"Oh, yes, I remember now." Harry sighed comfortably and turned over.
"Oh, say, you fellows; turn out. You have had sleep enough and I am as
lonely as a cow in a strange pasture. You've had all the fun; now the
least you can do is to get up and tell me about it."
"Fun, eh?" said Bert, who had been awakened by the conversation. "I wish
you had had my part of the enjoyment. More quiet amusement will do for
me."
"I am as hungry as a bear," said Harry, jumping out of bed. "If you
won't let us sleep we must eat. Have you had supper yet?"
"No; Cap said he was going to wait until you waked up."
"All right; if you'll get a bucket of water we'll be ready in short
order. I've got to wash up. I'm as dirty as a digger Indian."
When Harry turned out he found his own suit, carefully mended and
pressed, laid out over a chair. He gladly discarded his badly fitting
Spanish uniform, and after a good wash, donned his own clothing again
and made quite a presentable appearance as he walked out on deck, where
he found O'Connor and Miss Juanita and her mother lounging lazily in
steamer chairs.
O'Connor jumped up and warmly welcomed the boys, and Miss Juanita
insisted upon presenting them to her mother as "the brave American lads
who had saved her from the vengeance of General Serano."
"And now, youngsters," said O'Connor, as soon as they had blushingly
acknowledged the warmly expressed gratitude of Miss Juanita's mother, "I
know you are hungry and dinner waits. My Waldorf chef has done himself
proud in honor of the occasion and George Wash Jenks, his assistant, has
begged to be allowed to serve us. Let's get busy." He rose as he spoke
and the boys saw that he had dressed himself with scrupulous care
again, in a suit of light flannel, yachting cap, and immaculately white
canvas shoes.
It was a merry party that gathered around the cabin table, which, with
its elaborate setting of crystal and silver, would have been a credit to
any domestic establishment. Washington, in a white coat and apron, his
face wide ajar with a happy grin, served them skillfully. After dessert
had been cleared away and O'Connor had secured permission from the
ladies to smoke his cigarette, Mason, who had been for many hours
impatiently waiting to hear the story of his comrades' adventures, saw
his opportunity, and rising and bowing to the company with his funny,
grave expression, said:
"Ladies and gentlemen, and our distinguished host: Little as I am
accustomed to public speaking, I wish right here to say that I consider
that I have been very shabbily treated. Fickle fortune robbed me of an
opportunity to become a hero, and it looks as if I would now be denied
even the poor gratification of enjoying the thrilling adventures of my
brave comrades by word of mouth. I know I'm little and perhaps my suit
would not have fitted Miss Juanita as well as my friend Hamilton's, but
it was not because of my size that unkind fate singled him out for the
hero part and left me not so much as an understudy. It was pure hard
luck, and now I demand, as the slighted party, that the story of the
rescue from the Spanish prison be told in the minutest detail for the
benefit of the assembled company by those who acted the principal parts.
Captain Dynamite, I leave it to you if it is not due to a disappointed,
would-be hero?"
O'Connor laughed heartily at the boy, who kept a serious and sober face
during his harangue.
"Your position is well taken, Master Mason," he said. "I propose that
Master Hamilton begin the story at the point where he and his companion
fell into the hands of the Spaniards."
After some urging Harry told in an easy narrative style the story of his
and Bert's adventures, to which Mason listened breathlessly, while
Washington, who had been permitted to stand behind O'Connor's chair,
alternately grinned and stared in amazement. The story of the misfortune
of Villamonte seemed to amuse him greatly, and as Harry described his
expression as he lay bound and gagged in the prison, the negro slapped
his leg in glee, and for a moment forgetting himself, cried out.
"Ah guess Misser Tree Card Monte not bother Massa Cap'n Dynamite no
more. He, he, ha, ha."
They all joined with Washington in his mirth, and in the midst of their
hilarity the cabin door opened and Suarez, with a reproachful
expression, looked in at O'Connor and waited for the noise to subside.
"Captain Morgan's sentinels on the point report a light off shore, sir,"
he said, as soon as he could make himself heard.
"What sort of a light, Suarez?" asked O'Connor, without showing any
excitement.
"Probably a vessel's light, sir."
"Very well. Call me if it seems to be making in shore."
Suarez cast another glance at O'Connor that seemed to say, "Petticoats
are out of place on filibusters," but he wisely refrained from
expressing any such opinions aloud.
Harry continued his narrative and O'Connor appeared to listen with as
great an interest as if he were not familiar with the details already.
Harry noticed, however, that every now and then he cast a glance at the
door as if he expected Suarez to return. He had reached that point in
his story where they discover Villamonte riding madly after them on the
plain and Washington's eyes were bulging with excitement, when the door
again opened and Suarez stepped in and saluted.
"I think you had better come on deck, sir," he said, quietly.
"All right, Suarez," said O'Connor, jumping up quickly. "Go on with your
story, my boy, I will join you again shortly. Keep up the interest;
you've got your audience in the proper mood now." With a light laugh,
intended to allay any anxiety Suarez's words might have caused his
guests, O'Connor left the cabin.
Harry realized that some danger threatened them, but catching a
significant look in the eyes of the captain as he left the room, fell in
with his purpose readily and continued his story as if nothing had
happened.
"What is it, Suarez?" asked O'Connor, as soon as they were alone on
deck.
"She's headed in shore and directly for the inlet, sir."
"Can you make her out yet?"
"I have not been ashore, sir, but Morgan's men say they can only see her
lights."
"Lower a boat and let me take your glasses. I do not want to alarm the
ladies by returning to the cabin for mine."
"Women are a bit of a nuisance at such times, sir," said Suarez, who
could no longer refrain from expressing his views, however mildly.
"No, you are wrong there, Suarez," said O'Connor, who understood the
mate's aversion to everyone and everything that was not working
directly for the good of the cause. "They are only an incentive to extra
caution, which you must admit is an admirable thing for me." Suarez
shook his head doubtfully as he went forward to get the boat in the
water and O'Connor laughed at his officer's crochet.
A boat was quickly lowered and manned, and O'Connor was rowed to the
point of land that separated the lagoon from the ocean. He made his way
to a group of men who, in the shelter of some palm trees, were watching
the red and green lights of an approaching vessel.
"Can you make her out?" asked O'Connor, eagerly.
"No, sir. We have no glasses. Perhaps you can tell what she is."
O'Connor took a long look at the lights, which were yet mere specks.
"I can't make her out yet," he said, as he lowered his glasses, "but
whoever she is she must know the coast hereabouts pretty well to head in
so close."
He sat down with his back to one of the trees and his face to the sea
and rolled a cigarette. He smoked calmly for ten minutes and then put
his glasses to his eyes again.
"She's a gunboat," he said finally. "Let me know in fifteen minutes if
she still holds her course."
He turned back to his boat and was rowed rapidly back to the _Mariella_.
Suarez met him at the gangway.
"Did you make her out, sir?" he asked eagerly.
"Yes, she's a gunboat--I think our old friend the _Belair_, and if it be
she there is no significance in her presence here. She has probably been
cruising up and down the coast since we left her trying to solve the
mystery of our sudden disappearance. But in any event you better prepare
for the worst; but quietly, Suarez, quietly. We do not want to alarm the
ladies unnecessarily."
"Bother the ladies," grumbled Suarez to himself, as he went forward to
carry out the captain's orders. O'Connor leaned on the rail facing the
black point of land that hid them from view. Presently a boat put out
from the shore and as she came under the _Mariella's_ quarter, O'Connor
whispered:
"Well?"
"Only the red light shows now, sir," answered a man in the small boat.
"She has changed her course, then. Good. Keep a sharp lookout and let me
know at once if she changes again."
"It seems to be steady, sir. I think she has come to anchor."
"Whew," whistled O'Connor; "that's bad."
The little boat put back to shore and O'Connor stood leaning over the
rail in deep thought. Meanwhile dark shapes moved quickly, but silently,
across the deck as the men took their quarters. The mate aroused
O'Connor from his reverie.
"All is ready, sir," he said.
"Very good, Suarez. I think I know what her game is now. She's beating
the coast for just such hidden spots as this lagoon. Get word at once to
the men on the point to watch carefully for the approach of a launch or
small boat. There is to be no demonstration unless they find the inlet.
In that case let them see that no one gets out again. And Suarez, the
machete--no guns. There must be no noise to tell the _Belair_ what has
happened."
O'Connor rejoined the party in the cabin with a smile on his lips that
belied the weight of anxiety on his mind.
"Now ladies," he said cheerily, "if Harry has finished his tale of
adventure we will bid you good night, as I have to make ready for sea.
You will occupy my cabin, as I have no doubt the boys will be quite
willing to bunk with me in a spare stateroom forward."
The boys bade the ladies good night and retired to the deck with the
captain.
"What's up, Cap?" asked Harry, as soon as the door closed behind them.
"Can't fool you, eh?" laughed O'Connor.
"I knew something had gone wrong, sir, as soon as you left the cabin."
"Well, I suppose I might just as well tell you boys, for you will find
out sooner or later, but I do not want a word of it to reach the ladies;
you understand?"
"We'll be as silent as clams at high water," said Mason, "but I should
like to have it thoroughly understood that I am next in line for any
hero parts."
"There is a Spanish gunboat--the same one we had the little mix-up with
coming down, I think--lying just off the inlet. I believe that her
commander suspects that we have hidden away in some such place as this
and he is beating the shore with small boats in the hope of locating
us."
"But what chance would a small boat have if she did discover us?"
"If the boat crew discovered us and got away the gunboat could shell us
out or sink us in the lagoon."
"Another cheery outlook," groaned Bert. "I thought we were safe on the
_Mariella_ and it seems that it is only a choice between Spanish guns
ashore and Spanish shells at sea."
"Oh, it's not quite so bad as that, Master Wilson," said O'Connor
laughing, but with an anxious look in the direction of the cabin. "If
they do not discover our hiding-place we shall sneak out all right under
cover of darkness, and if they do discover it, we shall have to fight
for it; but in either event we shall get out." O'Connor's mouth
tightened into that straight line that indicated his desperate moods. He
stepped over to the rail and fixed his eyes on the black shore of the
lagoon. It was his usual abrupt method of closing a conversation, and
the boys who were now familiar with his peculiarities, did not attempt
to question him further.
The tide was running into the inlet and the _Mariella_ had swung around
on her anchor chains until she was pointed directly for the hidden
opening to the sea. The boys left O'Connor to his thoughts and strolled
forward. The sky was partially overcast and the moon, which had just
risen, was almost obscured by heavy, slowly moving clouds. Now and then,
however, it broke through a rift, flooding the lagoon with its silvery
light and throwing the black sides of the _Mariella_ into bold relief.
Not a breath of air stirred leaf or twig.
"We are ready for action," whispered Harry, as they passed the silent
forms of the men standing quietly at their stations. "They won't catch
Captain Dynamite napping, any way."
Near the fo'c'sle deck they found Washington at his post, a Mauser in
his hand and machete and pistols in his belt.
"Hullo, Wash," said Mason, "are we going to have another mix-up?"
The negro grinned and bobbed his head rapidly at the same time placing
his finger on his lips.
"What's the matter? Lost your tongue again?"
"'Sh. George Wash Jenks can't talk on fightin' duty."
"That's right, Wash; obey orders," said Harry, as they passed on.
The dark forms of the waiting men, the dead silence that hung over the
steamer, and the tense air of anxiety and doubt that pervaded all began
to have a disquieting effect upon the boys who, at first, full of
confidence in the courage and experience of O'Connor, had regarded their
situation as only remotely dangerous. For a long time they stood looking
off at the screen of trees and vines that separated them from the sea,
where the gunboat lay in wait for its prey.
A black cloud that had obscured the face of the moon slowly passed over
it, and again the shores of the lagoon stood out in detail, almost as if
the sun shone upon them. Harry placed a hand quickly on Bert's shoulder
and pointed ahead of them. There was a commotion in the leafy screen as
if something was forcing its way through. The next moment the bow of a
boat crept slowly out until its full length was visible within the
lagoon. Another cloud began to draw a fleecy fringe across the moon, but
before its darker center passed over the shining disc, the boys could
see many black moving spots on the surface of the water, rapidly
approaching the boat from behind.
"We must tell the captain," said Harry, turning quickly, only to find
O'Connor with folded arms standing silently behind them, watching the
scene with contracted brow. He did not appear to notice the presence of
the boys.
"Now, quick," he hissed between his teeth, as if coaching someone in the
distance, and at the same time the boys saw the black spots rise from
the water, as many arms shot up and seized the gunwale of the boat. Then
a veil of darkness shut out the dramatic scene as the cloud shut out the
light of the moon.
There was a sound of splashing water, a low cry or two and then silence
again. O'Connor turned away and joined the mate, who had watched the
brief spectacle from the bridge.
"It was well done, Suarez," said O'Connor.
"Aye, aye, sir; it was a neat job. Trust Morgan's men for that." The
splash of oars alongside interrupted them and the sentries' boat
appeared again. O'Connor leaned over the bridge.
"Boat and four men captured at the inlet, sir," called a voice from out
of the darkness.
"Good; anyone hurt?"
"Not a soul, sir. We were two to one and they threw up their hands when
we climbed over the stern of their boat. What shall we do with the
prisoners?"
"Turn them over to Captain Morgan; and now, Suarez, when can we go to
sea?"
"Whenever you please, sir. The cargo is all ashore."
"Get up steam at once."
"Are you going to take her out to-night, sir, in the face of the
_Belair_?"
"If I don't take her out to-night we shall have to run the gauntlet in a
hail of solid shot. It will not be long before they will suspect that
something has happened to that boat. By daybreak the _Belair_ will move
in. Our only chance is to get out under cover of darkness. She is well
within range now, but we can get clear of the inlet with a bit of speed
on before she discovers us, and if we've got to fight I prefer the open
sea."
"Very well, sir. Shall I heave the anchors?" asked Suarez.
"You can't heave the anchors until you get up steam, man."
"I told you we were ready for sea, sir," said Suarez, in a reproachful
tone. "The _Mariella_ is always at your command."
Fifteen minutes later O'Connor stood in the pilot house with his hand on
the wheel. He looked back for a moment at the two sentinel palms and
then he rang the bell for full speed ahead.
The engines throbbed, the screws churned the still water of the lagoon
into a white froth and the _Mariella_, with rapidly increasing speed,
poked her nose into the green foliage that barred her passage to the
sea. Branches and vines scraped along her sides for a moment and then,
released from their impeding embrace, she forged ahead with a tremble
and start into the open sea. The red portlight of the waiting gunboat
gleamed in the darkness a few points off her port bow. O'Connor swung
her head around until the light was off the _Mariella's_ quarter. Then
he turned the wheel over to the steersman who stood beside him.
"Keep her steady, now," he said, as he left the pilot house and returned
to the bridge, where Suarez stood with his glasses trained on the red
light.
"No sign of movement, yet, sir," he said.
"You have no lights burning?"
"Not a light aboard, sir, except in the binnacle."
"All depends upon the moon then. She'll hardly make us out against the
shore. If the moon stays in for fifteen minutes we shall be out of range
of her guns and we can outfoot her in a stern chase."