ALL BUT KILLED
Undoubtedly an attempt had been made to deprive Hal of his charge. Had
Hal waited another minute before discovering the absence of his
possession, the thieves would certainly have escaped with the valuables.
"Yes, they are rogues," said Mr. Brindle that evening, returning to the
subject as he and Hal sat down to dinner, "and the more I think about it
the more certain I feel that I am right. After dinner we will endeavor
to ascertain who they are."
Accordingly, half an hour later, they rose from their seats, just as the
train drew up at a platform, and walked from end to end of the long
string of cars, failing, however, to see the two adventurers.
"They've gone; and, after all, it was to be expected," exclaimed Mr.
Brindle. "I suppose they slipped off a few minutes after boarding the
train. There can have been no difficulty, as we crawled out of the
station. Well, we shall not be troubled again; but let it be a lesson to
you, Hal. Nowadays, one ought to be most careful when dealing with
strangers."
Sauntering back, they took their seats once more, and looked at the
people on the platform. At length the bell clanged, and to the familiar
cry of "All aboard!" the cars were once more set in motion.
"Hallo! Those fellows were here all the time," said Hal, glancing at two
figures on the platform. "Look, Mr. Brindle! There are the men who tried
to steal the bag!"
"Ah, is that so, Hal?" exclaimed Mr. Brindle. "Precious scoundrels they
look too, and the one with the beard strikes me again as being a man I
have met before. Well, we need not trouble, for the train is off, and
they are left behind. Now, lad, we'll have a good sleep, and to-morrow,
when we leave our berths for breakfast, we shall be within an hour of
Sable Bay."
Ten minutes later our hero was lying between the sheets, looking
sleepily at the shaded electric light above him.
Meanwhile, what had become of the two men who had attempted to deprive
Hal of the bag?
No sooner had the car passed in which Mr. Brindle and his young engineer
were seated, than the swarthy-looking foreigners leaped on to the step
of the following one, and hastily passing through the smoking-saloon,
entered a small cupboard set apart for the porter.
"That was well managed, Señor Capitan," the darker of the two at once
exclaimed, seating himself. "Ha, ha, did you not see them look at us? It
is clear that they suspected our game, and no doubt their inspection of
the cars was to discover us and have us ejected. We have played our
cards well. While they fancy that we are miles behind them, we are in
reality but a few yards away. No doubt this negro will entertain us till
the time for action arrives, and then we will have the gold you say the
bag contains, even though that stalwart young Englishman objects."
He spoke in Spanish, gesticulating and gabbling the words, and
introducing a tone of marked disdain when alluding to the porter. There
was little doubt that he was a half-caste, and owed some part of his
existence to the negro race to which he had alluded with such contempt.
"When do we make the attempt, Señor Capitan?" he asked. "See, it is
half-past eight now, and the majority of passengers are thinking of
going to bed. Shall you try at midnight, or will you think it best to
wait till the early hours of to-morrow?"
The man addressed did not answer for the moment, but, removing the beard
from his chin, slowly rolled a cigarette. He was a small, active-looking
man, of undoubted Spanish blood. At first sight he would have been
called a handsome fellow, but a glance at his eyes and mouth altered
that impression. There was something not altogether pleasing about him.
"You are overhasty, and forget yourself, Pedro," he said at length. "One
would have thought that it was all of your planning. Remember that it
was I who decided how we would act; and do not forget that in
undertaking to abstract this bag, I am risking far more than you."
"For which you will, no doubt, extract a proportionately large share of
the booty," grumbled the one who had been called Pedro.
"Perhaps. And why not? Am I not the leader? and are you not the servant?
But do not let us argue so, or we might quarrel, and that would be bad
for one of us. Listen to me, and see that you do not interrupt. This
English brat, who just awoke in time to upset the plan which I had
devised so carefully, is still in charge of the precious bag for which
we have traveled so far, and from which we hope to recoup ourselves. We
know that he is about to retire for the night, for the porter has told
us so. Very good. What of the others? They are weary, and will turn in
early, so as to awake fresh and rested to-morrow. Our accomplice here,
the negro whom you scowl at so heavily, will tell us when all in that
car have retired. That will be our time. Any noise we may make will be
unnoticed, owing to the fact that it is so early; while if this young
fool of an Englishman shouts--well, perhaps the rattle of the train will
drown everything!"
"Perhaps," Pedro growled. "And what if the sounds are heard?" he asked.
"Supposing the Señor Englishman cries loudly for help?"
"Ah! then he must look to himself. We will deal gently with him till
then; but if he refuses to be silent----In any case, you have the
revolver and some inches of steel? Now we understand each other," said
the Spaniard. "We will wait till all is clear, when we will enter the
Señor Englishman's compartment and bind him. That done, this porter will
signal for the cars to stop and will raise an alarm. Of course he will
not know precisely what has happened, nor, if questions are asked will
he have an idea of the appearance of the two mountebanks who have dared
to commit robbery on the cars. Our friend, the Señor Brindle, will not
dream of us; for did he not see us descend from the cars some miles
back? By the time the passengers have collected their senses we shall be
a mile behind, hidden in the forest, and it will be evil luck indeed if
the bag which we covet is not with us. Then back to 'the ever-faithful
island,' Cuba, the island of freedom, where a Spaniard who is poor may
live in contentment, certain of being able to return to his native
country with provision for the remainder of his life, and all plucked
from the islanders. Yes, Pedro, we will return home and, later on, we
will repeat the process of bleeding the Señor Brindle."
"Buenos, Señor Capitan! You are a veritable wonder!" Pedro cried
excitedly, waving his cigarette in the air, and patting his comrade on
the knee. "And now to pass the time. It is dull sitting here doing
nothing but smoke and listen to the rattle of the train. Here, boy,
bring glasses and a bottle."
Thus addressed, the porter produced a decanter of liquor and two
tumblers, and for an hour or more the two conspirators refreshed
themselves, and carried on an eager conversation in low tones, in the
voluble, gesticulating manner common to their countrymen. At length the
porter, who had departed and left them to themselves, returned to inform
them that all was clear.
"Now for the money, Pedro!" the Spaniard exclaimed. "Wait, though; let
us pay this good fellow for his services."
Taking a purse from his pocket, he placed four dollars in the porter's
hand, and led the way into the smoking saloon. Two minutes later they
were standing at the end of the car in which Hal was sleeping. They
paused for a moment as if in fear, then they opened the door, and crept
along the passage till they were outside the compartment he occupied.
"No, not there, Señor Capitan. The English boy has gone into the other
bunk," Pedro whispered, pointing to the next compartment, in which Mr.
Brindle lay. "See, I am sure of it, for here is his coat, hanging
outside the door."
"Are you quite sure, Pedro?" the Spaniard asked doubtfully. "The porter
said we should find him in the fifth from the forward end of the car,
and this is certainly the one."
"That is as you say," was the reply. "But here are the young man's
boots. It is clear the negro is mistaken."
For more than a minute the two crouched silently in the corridor,
doubtful as to the compartment in which Hal slept, and in which lay the
bag they hoped to capture. It was, indeed, a puzzle, and it was long
before they could come to any solution. To enter the wrong compartment
meant ruin to all their hopes. But more than that might come of it, for
Mr. Brindle was a powerful man, and to be caught in his clutches would
be no joke. It was not a pleasant thing to think about, and it troubled
the Spaniard. He ground his teeth, and, muttering an oath, whispered in
Pedro's ear:
"Keep the revolver," he said, "and give me the knife. Whatever happens,
we must contrive to get away."
Convinced by the boots which Hal had placed too far to the right when
leaving them in the corridor for the porter to attend to, they crept on
a pace, and grasped the handle of the compartment in which Mr. Brindle
was sleeping.
"Quick, the key!" whispered the Spaniard, trying the door, and finding
it locked.
There was a grating sound and a faint click as the key was introduced,
and the bolt thrown back. But slight though the noise was it reached
Hal's ears, even amidst the rattle of the wheels, and startled him from
his sleep. Ignorant as to what had disturbed him, he lay on his back,
his eyes wide open. Another minute, and he would have turned over to
sink into sleep once more, when something bumped heavily against the
woodwork which separated his compartment from Mr. Brindle's.
"Don't move, or it will be the worse for you, Señor Englishman!" he
heard a hoarse voice exclaim in threatening tones.
It took a few seconds for Hal to comprehend what was happening. "Don't
move, or it will be the worse for you!" That meant that someone was in
difficulties next door.
"By Jove, those rascals are making another attempt!" he exclaimed; and
at once sprang from his bunk.
Flinging the door open, he rushed into the next compartment, to see
kneeling on the floor, in the full glare of the electric light, which
had been switched on by the Spaniard, Pedro, revolver in hand, the
muzzle of which was pressed into Mr. Brindle's ear, while the other hand
was placed over his mouth.
Hal had just time to notice that the other scoundrel was busily
searching for the bag beneath the bunk, when both men turned and rushed
at him, Pedro pressing the trigger of his revolver. There was a blinding
flash, followed by a loud report, and Hal felt something strike him on
the left shoulder with stunning force. Next second the Spaniard's face,
with the long, coal-black beard, suddenly appeared before him in the
smoke, and he struck at it with all his might, sending the ruffian
staggering back; but he recovered himself in a moment, and rushed
towards the doorway, throwing Hal to the floor as he passed.
"How is that now, lad? How do you feel, old boy? Better? That's it;
you're smiling. That's the way. Pull yourself together, and drink this
off."
It was Mr. Brindle who was speaking, and, scarcely understanding what
was said, but feeling dazed and queer, and much inclined to close his
eyes and sleep, Hal swallowed the contents of the tumbler which was
placed to his lips. But suddenly Mr. Brindle's well-known voice brought
him to his senses.
"By Jove, what a fright you gave me!" he said. "How do you feel, Hal?
Come, pull yourself together and look at me."
"Eh, what? I'm all right! What's happening? Here, let me sit up!"
exclaimed Hal, suddenly suiting the action to the word, and looking
about him with wide-open eyes. "Why, what's this? I was asleep, and
then----Those thieves! What is it, Mr. Brindle? I dreamed that they had
made another attempt, and that I happened to hear them. It looked as
though all was up with you, and I remember feeling in a terrible way.
After that, everything seemed to stop, and I fell into a glorious
dream."
"That is just about what has happened, my lad, and very fortunate it was
for me that you awoke when you did; though for you, poor lad, it has
meant trouble. Those Spanish scoundrels did make a second attempt, but,
in their endeavor to get possession of the bag, they pitched upon the
wrong compartment. I can tell you that it was a ticklish moment for me.
As I lay there, not daring to move, I saw you come in. The only wonder
to me is that the gentleman called Pedro did not have his revenge at
once by shooting me. At any rate, he managed to put a bullet into your
shoulder, and then he escaped from the car. The other rascal, whom you
tackled so gamely, and who will have a splendid black eye for his pains,
also got clear away, leaving some of his property behind him. Here it
is."
He held up a mass of black hair, which had formerly covered the chin of
the Spaniard.
"Now, Hal, you have the whole story," he continued. "You were wounded
and fainted from loss of blood. A fellow passenger, who happens to be a
doctor, has already examined and dressed the shoulder, and reports most
favorably. A week will see you up and about, so he says, for the bullet
was of very small caliber."
"What? A week in bed, Mr. Brindle!" exclaimed Hal, aghast. "Why, I am
fit to get up now. See here, I feel quite myself again."
He struggled to his feet, but next moment he was glad to sit down again,
and was forced, though much against his inclination, to confess that he
was shaken. However, with his old dogged determination, he resolved not
to give way, and not to submit to being put ignominiously to bed.
"I am a bit groggy," he admitted. "My legs don't seem quite to belong
to me; but it's only a temporary matter. Thank you, I will have another
sip."
The tumbler was raised to his lips, and he drank deeply, for the loss of
blood had induced a violent thirst.
"There you see for yourself how fit you are," said Mr. Brindle. "And
now, as the thieves have escaped, and your wound has been seen to, you
will lie down and sleep till morning."
There was no gainsaying this direct order, for Mr. Brindle waited to see
that Hal lay full length on the bunk. Then he left the section, and
entered his own. As for Hal, though badly shaken, he suffered little
pain. The injured shoulder felt numbed, but nothing more. After lying
awake for half an hour, thinking over the little adventure through which
he had passed, he, too, dozed off, and finally sank into a deep sleep,
from which he was awakened by the opening of his door.
"Breakfast in half an hour," said Mr. Brindle, putting his head into the
compartment. "How goes it with you this morning, old boy?"
"I feel quite myself," said Hal briskly, sitting up in his bunk. Then,
to demonstrate the truth of his words, he stood up. "Yes," he continued,
"I feel ever so much stronger than I did last night. I suppose the
excitement and the shock had unnerved me, but now I am perfectly
steady."
"That's good, Hal, and I am glad to see you making an effort. After all,
there is no reason why a bullet wound in the shoulder should lay you up.
Last night, as you say, the shock and suddenness of the injury had upset
you, and no doubt you felt the rapid loss of blood. A few hours' sleep
have made that good, so that you will quickly mend. I have no fear of
the wound going wrong, for it was skillfully treated from the first.
Now, let me lend a hand, and help to put your clothes on."
Half an hour later, with his left arm in a sling, and his empty sleeve
pinned to the coat, arm in arm with Mr. Brindle, Hal entered the
breakfast saloon, where they took their places at one of the many small
tables. Numbers of other passengers were already there, and they looked
at our hero with curiosity and admiration.
An hour later the engine steamed into a large station, and the
passengers descended from the cars.
"Just look out for the youngsters, Hal," said Mr. Brindle. "They'll be
coming to meet their dad."
"Youngsters? Your youngsters?" asked Hal, in surprise; for Mr. Brindle
had never mentioned that he was married and had a family.
"Why, mine to be sure! There's Dora, the dearest blue-eyed girl that
ever breathed; and Gerald, the biggest and most mischievous monkey that
ever wore clothes. You'll know them at once. Ah, there they are, or I am
mistaken."
"Hallo! There you are, dad!" cried the boy, a sturdy young fellow of
some sixteen years. "Hi! Come along, Dora! Here he is, looking as fat
and jolly as possible."
Breathless, and with hat tossed to the back of his head, the lad rushed
at Mr. Brindle and embraced him, a graceful and pretty girl, looking
charming and dainty in a white frock, following suit quickly.
"There, there, how glad I am to see you both again, my dears!" exclaimed
Mr. Brindle. "Both of you looking as well as ever too. But I am
forgetting my duties. Dora--Gerald--come here and let me introduce you a
very great friend, who is to be my overseer. Steady now, shake hands
gently, for he has been in the wars. Hal, my dear boy, let me present
you to my dear children."
Each in turn shook Hal heartily by the hand, Dora looking
sympathetically, and, at first, somewhat shyly at him; while Gerald,
boy-like, took good stock of the new overseer, not fearing to look well
into his face.
"What has happened to your arm, Mr. Marchant? What war have you been in?
And are you very much hurt?" Dora asked these questions in rapid
succession.
"Dora," said her father, "this young gentleman was shot by a ruffian who
attempted to steal my bag. He has risked his life for me, and he is
helpless. I place him in your charge. You have had some experience of
nursing and will do your best. Now, let us get to the carriage."
Dora was a young lady about whom there was no nonsense. Here was a
fellow-being who was obviously suffering; somehow he had come by his
injury in protecting her father. That was enough for any daughter. For
his sake she would look after Hal. So she marched our hero from the
platform, chuckling secretly at the blush which had now changed his
cheeks from dullest white to brilliant red. They stepped into the
comfortable carriage, and at a crack of the whip, the team of mules set
forward at a hand-gallop.
What thoughts were Hal's as he was driven to his new home? It seemed
like a dream, for, a few weeks back, he was an orphan, with few friends.
Then he had decided to start to America, where he would be entirely
unknown. But what had happened? Friends seemed to have risen up on every
side. Yes, it was good fortune. At least, that was what he thought as
his eyes wandered from Mr. Brindle and Gerald to Dora. Never before had
Hal taken notice of any girl.
And here he found himself unconsciously glancing at Dora, and listening
eagerly to every word she said. It was sense too. Indeed, she discussed
everyday matters with her father in a manner which opened Hal's eyes.
"She's clever," thought Hal, "and she's a pretty girl. How kind she was
to me!"
And what of Dora? She, on her part, was taking stock of the overseer.
Beneath her lashes she stole many a glance at him, always to meet his
steady eyes, and turn away in confusion. But still, she was able to come
to a conclusion. She saw a stalwart young man, who had yet an inch or
more to grow. He had an open face, and eyes which never flinched or
turned away.
"I like the new overseer," she said to herself. "He looks honest, brave,
and kind. But how pale he is!"