THE CONSPIRACY.
When liberty is given on a man-of-war the whole crew does not go
ashore, but only a watch, or part of a watch.
The liberty party from the old _Monongahela_ was composed of one-half
of the port watch, and the forty odd cadets composing it glanced back
in gleeful triumph at their less fortunate mates, who were watching
their progress with lugubrious faces from the forward deck.
Conspicuous among the latter were Grat Wallace and Trolley, neither of
whom were member of that half of the port watch.
They were doubly sorry that their names had not been included. They
regretted that they were not going ashore and also that Clif, whom they
liked and admired more than words could tell, would not be able to go
with them on the morrow.
For Clif was in one of the boats speeding ashore, and naval cadets on
a practice cruise are not permitted liberty two days in succession.
With Clif in the leading cutter were Joy and Nanny. And in the
whaleboat following were Judson Greene and Chris Spendly.
Judson was very thoughtful on the way to the beach. He replied only in
monosyllables to the chatter of his crony. He was evolving in his mind
a scheme by which the boy Pedro’s newly developed hatred of Clif could
be worked to the latter’s undoing.
And he was also going over in his mind the reasons why he, himself,
hated Clif so bitterly. The thoughts carried him back to Annapolis and
beyond.
There was a long list of little plots and conflicts and rather shady
schemes Judson had originated, but he always had been worsted in all
these conflicts.
This enmity started in Hartford, Conn., from which city both had
entered the academy, and it had continued until the present moment.
When the cadets landed at the main dock they found a crowd of idlers
gathered there, possibly attracted by the rumor that a number of
American naval cadets would pay a visit ashore.
Curious spectators, beggars, small boys, boatmen, and all that go to
make up the water-front population of a city like Lisbon, thronged the
street outside the gate and made complimentary and other remarks as the
boys passed from the dock.
In the background, partially concealed behind a group of spectators,
was a lean, brown-skinned boy with shifty, furtive eyes and a shock of
black hair.
He was clad only in a light shirt and trousers, both of which showed
signs of recent contact with water. As the naval cadets trouped past he
watched them eagerly until three walking together and laughing merrily
came into view.
Then his little eyes contracted, his face darkened with rage, and the
nails of his clinched fists bit deep into the flesh.
He drew back, but not before he was observed by two cadets who had
loitered behind their companions. They walked on a few paces, then
dropped back and approached the barefoot boy.
“I say, aren’t you the chap who was diving for pennies alongside the
ship this morning?” asked one, with assumed carelessness.
The boy glared at them defiantly, and made a reply in Portuguese.
“Drop that lingo,” sharply exclaimed the cadet. “I know you can speak
English because I heard you. Your name is Pedro, and you were defeated
in a dive by one of our fellows.”
Pedro made an inarticulate sound in his throat and moved away as if
with the intention of leaving the newcomers.
“I guess you had better wait a while if you care to get square with
that fellow,” said Judson Greene--for it was he--placing one hand upon
the lad’s shoulder. “We know all about the affair, and we are ashore to
help you out a little if we feel like it. Any place about here where we
can get a drink and have a quiet chat?”
Pedro eyed them for a moment from under his black brows, then he gave a
little nod, and without a word, trotted off.
A brief period later the three precious rascals, Judson, Chris Spendly
and Pedro were busily talking in the back room of a low _fonda_, or
drinking resort, on one of the side streets leading from the water
front.
In the meantime the rest of the liberty party was merrily proceeding
toward the center of the city, attracting favorable greetings from
shopkeepers, and glances of admiration from the pretty girls along
the way, for the American naval cadet ashore is both liberal with his
money, and gallant in his personal appearance.
Clif, Joy and Nanny were walking together and their hearts were light
within them.
Three weeks on board ship with tumbling decks, close quarters and
stormy winds made good dry land very attractive.
Joy alone looked gloomy. He was a human paradox. When his spirits were
lightest his face showed the deepest depression.
“It’s worth while spending a long time at sea to get such an
appreciation of mother earth,” laughed Clif, executing the first steps
of a hornpipe. “Eh, Joy, old boy?”
“Oh, I don’t know; there are other pleasures,” sighed the lanky plebe.
“And this isn’t such a great place after all. It looks nice enough from
the ship, but----”
“‘Distance lends enchantment to the view,’” quoted Nanny, sagely.
“You are right there. These houses that seemed so pretty with their
different colors are not so much after all. The most of them are
simply baked mud whitewashed or bluewashed or greenwashed, as the case
may be. And look at the streets. Humph! they aren’t as wide as an alley
at home.”
“I am sorry you boys are not pleased with the state of affairs,” said
Clif, gayly. “I’ll see the king and have things attended to. There is
one thing you must acknowledge though--the girls are handsome.”
“You noticed that quick enough,” sniffed Nanny, who had rather a
contempt for the opposite sex. “You got a girl in Annapolis before
you’d been there two days, and you picked up another here before the
anchor chain had finished rattling through the hawse pipes. It’s a
wonder you didn’t run across a couple of durned mermaids on the way
over.”
Clif laughed.
“How can I help it, kidlets?” he replied, with a wink at Joy. “Don’t I
try to keep the girls off? But they will fly to me like--like----”
“Niggers to a watermelon patch,” suggested Joy, gravely.
By this time the cadets had reached one of the main thoroughfares. As
usual in such cases, they paired off and went in different directions.
Clif and his two chums remained together.
“We will take a look at the town and then I’ll leave you for a while,”
announced the former.
“Going to call on Miss Juanita Windom, I suppose?” said Joy.
“Yes.”
“I think you might stay with us instead of chasing after a girl you
never saw until this morning,” complained Nanny.
“I am not due there until four,” laughed Clif. “It’s now one, and we
will have almost three hours in which to do the city. What more do you
want, youngster?”
Nanny was compelled to acknowledge contentment, and the trio of friends
strolled about the streets and visited the great cathedral, and
conducted themselves much as boys do under similar circumstances.
At half-past three Clif called a carriage in front of the Praça do Dom
Pedro, the principal square of Lisbon, and gave the driver a card upon
which he had written Miss Windom’s address.
“I’ll meet you at six or thereabouts on the dock, chums,” he called
back to Joy and Nanny. “Take care of yourselves and don’t get into any
scrapes.”
“I have a contract to punch Judson Greene’s head if I run across him,”
growled Joy. “He’s ashore, you know.”
“Yes. I saw him. But don’t waste any time getting into a row with the
fellow,” replied Faraday. “He isn’t worth it. Ta! ta!”
They stood for a moment, and watched him whirl away, then they sadly
turned and sauntered across the square.
If either had continued watching the carriage a trifle longer they
might have seen something rather surprising.
While the vehicle was rumbling past the northern corner of the plaza,
a lithe, brown-limbed, barefooted boy darted from behind a group of
chattering beggars and swung on behind the carriage.