Rub! rub! rub!
Chafe! chafe! chafe!
Under the shed over a wharf one human figure bent over another.
Rub! rub! rub!
With the quiet but energetic heroism of common humanity, the rescuer
strove to bring back the spark of life to a young man only just
snatched from the engulfing waters.
“It is odd, strange!” muttered the rubber, pausing for an instant
to look at the lifeless figure. “Can it be possible that I was too
late--or that I am too clumsy?”
He bent anxiously over the still figure.
“It would be a great thing to fool Senor Vasquez,” murmured the Cuban,
for such he was. “Moreover, I would like greatly to save this American,
who trusted me even as I trusted him.”
For some minutes more he continued to chafe the wrists and body of Hal
Maynard.
“A sip or two of brandy might save him--but how shall one get brandy,
which costs twenty-five pesetas a bottle? Perhaps----”
But Juan Ramirez suddenly and resolutely checked the thought that
perhaps he might be justified in using some of the money intrusted to
him by our hero.
“He said that belonged to another. Therefore he would not thank me to
use some of it to save his life.”
Such was the simple creed of honor of this Cuban.
He was soon rewarded, however, by a flutter of the eyelids, a sigh from
the unconscious one.
“Santa Maria! He still lives!” cried the Cuban, now overjoyed, and
working as if his own life depended upon the result.
A minute later Hal Maynard opened his eyes.
Juan bent so low over him that, despite the darkness, our hero
recognized his rescuer.
“Ramirez?” he murmured.
“At your service, Senor Americano.”
“But I was dropped into the harbor--weighted.”
“And I, senor, was fortunate enough to be near by.”
Hal blinked stupidly, having by no means recovered his wits as yet.
“Rest easily, and breathe freely,” counseled the Cuban. “Do not try to
move yet. Do not even try to think.”
Hal obeyed, lying there for two or three minutes before he tried again
to speak.
“Where are we now?” he asked, finally.
“Senor, I would caution you not to speak above a whisper. We are both
in danger, if some unfriendly prowler should overhear us. Let me raise
you--so. Now, do you see the building over yonder that rests upon the
water’s edge?”
“Yes.”
“It was from one of those windows that you were dropped.”
“And you----”
“I was prowling near, senor. No sooner did the scoundrels hear the
splash than they closed the window. It was then that I dove into the
harbor, swam to you, and found you some ten feet below the surface. It
was a simple matter to cut the ropes that bound the weights to you.
Then I brought you here. That is all, senor.”
“All?” echoed Hal, now sitting up. “It seems to me, my friend, that you
make a very modest statement of your noble action.”
“Senor, to-day you trusted me. In return I could not do less.”
“And it was you, I am sure, who went to the British consulate----”
“I was there, senor.”
“And it was you who lodged the information that resulted in my release
at the Prefatura.”
“It was I, senor, as you have guessed,” Ramirez quietly replied.
“You have been my good angel to-day,” cried Maynard, gratefully.
“I could not do less, senor, after a stranger had trusted me.”
“And it was you who warned me to-night that I was being followed.”
“Wrong this time, senor. It was a friend of mine.”
“Yet he worked at your instigation?”
“True.”
“And, finally, you have saved me from certain death.”
“All of which, Senor Americano, gives me occasion to rejoice,” answered
the Cuban, simply.
Hal now managed to get upon his feet. No sooner did he find himself
facing the Cuban than he warmly grasped the latter’s hand.
“I owe you my life and the safety of my money,” cried Maynard,
impulsively. “Yet I never saw you before to-day. Pardon me if such
great friendliness bewilders me.”
“I have done only what any Cuban would do for an American,” was the
quiet reply. “I offer you one more service before leaving you. You were
bound to some ship?”
“The British brig, Emeline Atwood.”
“I know her berth. I will lead you there. Once on board, you should be
safe. Come; I will show you the way, senor.”
“Wait just one instant,” implored Hal. “Ramirez, such friendship as
you have shown to-day is seldom met with. Pardon me if I seek to learn
something about you.”
“There is little to tell,” responded the Cuban. “I love this people
and their island, for I am one of them. I have done, as perhaps you
have guessed, all in my power to serve Cuba. You see, senor, I do not
hesitate to trust you. You will wonder why one of my sentiments is not
in the Cuban army. I will answer that question before you ask it. It
is forbidden to a Cuban to join our patriot army unless he can bring
with him a gun and some ammunition. When I can do that, I shall leave
Havana and take to the long grass where the insurgents, if not as thick
as locusts, are fighting as bravely as lions. Beyond that I can tell
you little, except that I have no living relatives. All have died of
starvation, and my greatest dread is that I shall starve before I am
ready to strike out for the long grass.”
Simple and brief as Ramirez’s statement was, it was the eloquent
account of a patriot who would die for his cause and country, and who
would die with equal cheerfulness, either of starvation in Havana, or
under arms in the field.
There were tears in Hal’s eyes as he heard the simple story.
But Ramirez cut short his reflections by saying:
“Senor, not all of our danger is behind us. If you are going to the
English ship, let me advise you that we should start at once.”
“Just one more question before we go,” interposed Hal. “You spoke of a
gun and ammunition. Can they be obtained here in Havana?”
“When one has the price, senor.”
“And what is that price?”
“Well, if I had twenty-five dollars I could buy a rifle and a pocketful
of cartridges. But, why speculate? Twenty-five dollars is not to be
found.”
“You are right,” responded Hal. “Let us find the brig.”
Ramirez guided him from the wharf and led him down a dark street,
halting every few steps to make sure that they were not being followed.
Of a sudden, the Cuban, every instant alert, dragged our hero into a
doorway.
“Here comes the patrol,” whispered Juan.
Hal listened, yet it was some moments before he could hear the tramp of
soldiers.
“Your hearing is wonderful,” he whispered.
“It is said,” replied Ramirez, “that starvation quickens all the
senses.”
“And you are starving?” uttered Hal, feeling as if he were choking.
“Far from it,” was the answer. “I ate a quarter of a loaf of bread the
day before yesterday.”
“And since----”
“I have had several drinks of water, but it was warm and therefore not
palatable.”
Terrible as this statement was, it was made quietly, without the least
trace of a desire to parade misery.
Tears glistened in Hal Maynard’s eyes. He was about to speak when
Ramirez cut him short by whispering:
“I find that this door behind us opens. That is fortunate, for
otherwise we would perhaps be captured.”
Silently both moved into the hallway. Trying not even to breathe, they
listened as a score of Spanish regulars or volunteers marched by.
Only a few yards further on they heard the command halt. Then followed
a dialogue between an officer and a belated pedestrian.
It was soon evident that the latter could not give a satisfactory
account of himself, for they heard the officer break in sharply:
“Enough! Step in between the files. You shall tell the rest of your
story at the Prefatura.”
Tramp, tramp! sounded the squad, marching on again. Ramirez listened
until long after Hal had heard the last footfall.
Then the door was opened once more, and the pair stole out to the
sidewalk.
“We are safe,” breathed Ramirez. “Walk quickly for a minute, and you
will be aboard your ship.”
A prediction that was realized, for, without further mishap, they
reached the wharf and walked its length.
“Who comes here?” growled a gruff voice.
Hal’s heart gave a jump at sound of the old, dear, familiar English
tongue.
“We are friends. I am an American,” he replied, stepping in advance. “I
wish to speak with the captain.”
“You’ll find him on board, sir,” replied the sailor, more respectfully.
“I must leave you, senor,” whispered Ramirez, adding, when he saw Hal’s
look of surprise: “The money that you intrusted to me I left with
friends. Do not be uneasy. In twenty minutes you should see me back.”
Before Hal could grasp his hand to wring it, Ramirez had glided off in
the shadows.
“Of all the true hearts in the world,” gasped Maynard, admiringly.
“Will he come back? I wish I were as sure of heaven!”
Without a doubt regarding Ramirez, our hero turned and went aboard the
brig.
Only three words of introduction were needed to secure a warm grasp
from Captain Blodgett’s hand:
“I’m an American.”
“And left behind, eh?” demanded the captain. “We sail at midnight;
Norfolk; there’s plenty of room aboard.”
“May I speak confidentially with you, sir?” asked Hal.
“Of course.”
They conversed in low tones by the rail for ten minutes. After that
they turned, looking shoreward.
At length, Ramirez appeared. No sooner did he reach the wharf than he
struck into a trot that did not slacken until the Cuban reached the
Atwood’s deck.
“Your money, senor,” announced the breathless messenger.
Diving under his jacket, he produced a bag.
“To my belief it has not been opened. Nevertheless, senor, you will
do me a great favor to count the money, and thus acquit me of all
suspicion.”
“At your request only I do so,” answered Hal. “Captain, may we use the
table in your cabin?”
“In more ways than one,” was the hearty answer. “Follow me below,
gentlemen.”
There, upon the table the bag was opened, the money poured forth.
Not much time was required in the counting. Two thousand dollars was
restored to the bag. The balance, sixty dollars, Hal stowed away in his
own pockets.
“My own money,” he announced. “Ramirez, how can I ever thank you for
all your honesty and goodness?”
“Since your people have been our friends for three years,” came the
reply, “it is enough for me to know that I have served an American.
And now I must take my leave of this vessel.”
“I also,” replied Hal, rising.
“You?” echoed Ramirez, amazed, while Captain Blodgett looked gravely on.
“Certainly,” rejoined Hal; “I am going with you.”
“With me, senor? Where, may I ask?”
“To the long grass, if you will take me.”
“You? Santa Maria! Do you mean, senor, that----”
He paused, utterly bewildered, but Hal Maynard finished, quickly:
“Ramirez, I saw a man when I met you. I am anxious to prove my own
manhood. I offer myself as a recruit to fight Spain!”