“GOOD WORK, MANUELLO!”
“Any sign of land yet, Nat?”
The professor put the question, as he stood beside the young leader of
the Motor Rangers on the bridge of the _Nomad_.
“I’ve noticed a sort of purplish mass, like a low-lying reach of
clouds, in the distance for some time,” was the rejoinder. “Do you
think that it can be the coast of Chile?”
“I think it is highly probable; we should be picking up the land by
this time. I think—heaven bless us!”
The professor clutched wildly at his head. But he was too late. His
latest “top-piece,” a cap that had belonged to Ding-dong Bell, was
whirled from his head into the sea.
“It’s an extraordinary thing,” he said with a kind of patient
resignation. “But I don’t seem able to keep a hat on my head at all.”
“So I’ve noticed,” rejoined Nat, with a sort of dry humor, “and that’s
the last spare one on board. You’ve had six since we left the volcanic
islands, and there are no others left.”
“Well, I suppose I must go bareheaded, then, till we reach land. It is
most annoying, though, really. I cannot account for it.”
Nat had a hard task to keep from laughing, but he managed to maintain a
straight face by dint of heroic resolution. Moreover, as the bridge was
protected by awnings of red and white striped material, he did not fear
that the man of science would suffer greatly from the sun.
It speedily became evident that what Nat had seen was indeed the coast
of Chile. By late afternoon they could make out the great mountain
masses which hang above the rather low lying coast.
“Gives one a kind of a thrill to think that if all goes well we’ll be
flying over those before long,” remarked Joe Hartley, as they all stood
grouped on the bridge, watching the distant land with interest.
“It certainly does,” agreed Nat.
It was three weeks since they had parted company with the schooner, and
the _Nomad_ had been somewhat delayed by bad weather. But, all things
considered, she had made a good run and all on board were in high good
humor as they foresaw the end of the voyage.
By nightfall they were entering a landlocked bay that forms the harbor
of Santa Rosa. It seemed to be a tiny place, as well as they could
judge. Above the huddle of houses there rose the inevitable twin towers
of the cathedral, however, and through the glasses they could make out,
with a thrill, that Old Glory was flying over one of the buildings, no
doubt the American consulate.
“I tell you, that old flag never looks so good as when you see it
flying in a foreign port,” observed Mr. Tubbs, a sentiment which they
all echoed.
As soon as they had anchored, their craft was surrounded by a fleet of
boats from the shore. It was dark, and in the blackness the tiny lights
carried by the swarming craft made them resemble a fleet of fire-flies,
as Nat poetically remarked.
“I am going to take a boat ashore,” said Professor Grigg, as soon as
everything had been made snug. “As we wish to start on the expedition
as soon as possible it is important that I should see Mr. Stowe, the
American consular agent, without delay. I am anxious, too, to know if
the sections of the dirigible arrived in good shape.”
“By the way, professor,” asked Nat, “what is the airship’s name?”
“Why, bless my soul, I hadn’t thought of that,” remarked the man of
science, “she ought to have one, too. What would you suggest?”
“I think _Discoverer_ would be a good name,” said Joe.
“Dd-d-d-dish coverer?” inquired Ding-dong mildly.
In the scuffle that ensued, the lively young engineer of the _Nomad_
was almost toppled overboard.
When quiet was restored, the professor said that he thought that
_Discoverer_ was a very good name. And so it was decided upon.
“You may come ashore with me, if you like,” said the professor to Nat.
“If I like,” echoed that lad; “of course I’d be delighted to,” he added.
Accordingly, a few minutes later they set out in one of the shore boats
for the city, leaving behind them two youths with rather long faces.
Ding-dong and Joe would have dearly loved to share in the expedition,
but their presence on board was necessary, as the _Nomad_, after her
long, rough cruise, was badly in need of a “general housecleaning.”
“I guess the consul will be astonished when he learns of the manner in
which I have traveled here,” remarked the professor; “naturally he was
expecting me on the schooner.”
“Speaking of the schooner,” said Nat as the native rowers propelled the
long, narrow boat swiftly through the water, “you don’t anticipate any
trouble from Lawless or Durkee?”
“No, I do not,” was the rejoinder; “in the first place, the schooner
could not arrive here for many days, even if they had made up their
minds to follow us. By that time we shall be, I hope, far advanced into
the upper regions of Chile.”
As the professor spoke one of the boatmen gave a shout. Nat looked up
and saw that a sailboat was bearing right down on them at tremendous
speed. The outlines of two men could be seen, but it was too dark to
distinguish their features.
“Good gracious, if that man doesn’t tack he’ll run us down!” cried the
professor.
“He will indeed,” exclaimed Nat. “Hi there! Look out where you’re
coming!” he yelled, adding his voice to the outcries of the boatmen.
But the occupants of the sailing craft paid no attention. At a terrific
speed the larger craft bore straight down on the little boat.
The boatmen stood paralyzed with fear. They did nothing. Suddenly one
of them dropped on his knees, and began imploring the protection of the
saints.
Nat sprang toward him, almost upsetting the frail boat as he did so.
With a quick movement he seized one of the paddle-like oars, and by
exerting all his strength as he thrust it into the water, he managed to
send the boat spinning out of harm’s way.
The next instant the sailing craft flashed by, almost grazing the bow
of the small craft.
“You’re a nice pair of irresponsible idiots,” yelled the indignant Nat.
“Do you know you almost ran us down?”
A yell of derision came from the other boat, and at the same instant
something heavy whizzed past Nat’s head, almost striking him. It fell
in to the water with a splash.
“They threw something at me, an iron weight, or a rock, or something,”
exclaimed Nat as the sailboat, still going at the same rapid rate,
vanished in the darkness. “What do you make of such conduct?”
“I don’t know what to think,” rejoined the professor. “I was inclined
to believe at first that the sailors of that craft were merely
careless. But the throwing of that weight puts a different complexion
on the matter. It looks as if they deliberately tried to wreck us.”
“It does,” agreed Nat; “the whole thing is very mysterious. I’m sure I
don’t know why any inhabitant of Santa Rosa should wish us harm.”
But further discussion of the matter was cut short by the necessity of
arousing the boatmen, who were still stupid from fright. This was
accomplished at last, and the boat was sent whizzing through the water
again.
They were landed at a tumble-down wharf, and as the tide was out they
got the full benefit of the odors inseparable from a South American
town. Both, however, were too intent on the work in hand to waste much
thought on this.
The professor, who spoke Spanish, as did Nat after a fashion, inquired
the way to the consulate, and a ragged mestizo volunteered to escort
him thither. But to their disappointment, when they reached the
building, which served both as a dwelling and an office, the consul’s
assistant informed them that he was not expected for an hour or more.
They were invited to wait, however.
Professor Grigg, who was tired, gladly accepted the invitation, and
sank into a comfortable chair. But sitting still didn’t much appeal to
Nat.
“I guess I’ll stroll about the town a little and meet you here later,”
he said to the professor after a few moments.
“Very well, my lad. But be careful,” was the reply.
“Oh, I’ll be very cautious,” laughed Nat; “at any rate, I can’t get run
down by a boat ashore here.”
“But there may be dangers, nevertheless,” counseled the professor.
Nat again promised to be careful and hurried out. He wished to mail
some letters home, as well as do a bit of sight seeing. He found the
post office without difficulty and, having mailed his missives, was
leaving it, when a native, in a long serape, or cloak, glided up to him.
“The señor is from the boat which anchored this evening?” he asked.
“Yes,” rejoined Nat. “Why?”
“Because if the señor wishes to see the town I am very good guide. I
can show him where they sell veree fine ’Merican ice cream soda.”
“By ginger! You’re on,” cried Nat, who had a weakness for ice cream
sodas; “lead on, Macduff. You don’t look very presentable, but I guess
that isn’t your fault.”
“Thees way, señor,” said the man, and he walked off slightly in advance
of Nat.
Suddenly he turned into a dark alley. Now, although Nat had nothing to
dread, yet he began to be fearful that the fellow might mean to rob
him. So he stopped short for an instant. But the next moment his
suspicions were disarmed by a look at the ragged, pitiable fellow. Nat
would have been a match for six of him.
“Where are you going?” he demanded, however, as they plunged into the
narrow thoroughfare, which was ill-paved and black as a tunnel.
“A short cut, señor. A short cut to the Gran’ Plaza. We be there soon
now.”
“Well, let’s hurry up and get out of this, quick,” said Nat; “I don’t
much like——”
Smash!
Something struck the young Motor Ranger on the back of the head. He
extended his arms helplessly, and plunged dizzily forward, collapsing
in a heap on the pavement.
At the same instant two figures glided from a doorway and joined a
third, the one who had struck Nat the blow that felled him.
“Good work, Manuello,” said the voice of Captain Lawless. “Pick him up
and help us carry him in.”