MARKED FOR DESTRUCTION
Ofirio was speaking.
"I am sure that nothing has been overlooked," he was saying, evidently in
answer to a question. "The charges of dynamite have been tamped into the
holes, and there are enough of them, fired at the same moment, to wreck
the eastern gate. In any event, it will so injure the delicate machinery
that works them, that they cannot be moved. Portions of it, no doubt,
will be blown into the Canal and block it so effectually that no ship can
pass through. But, leaving that out of the question, if the gate cannot
work, the Canal is put out of commission. It would be a matter of weeks,
perhaps of months, to repair the damage."
"The longer the better, of course," said Namoto, "but we do not ask even
that much of fate. Give us ten days of confusion and panic, with the
Atlantic fleet on this side of the Canal and unable to get through to the
Pacific, and our victory is sure."
"How about the tunnel?" asked Togi, the oldest of the three. "Are you
sure there is no suspicion that it exists?"
"Not the slightest," answered Ofirio. "I came through it myself, last
night, entering it at the masked exit near the locks, and leaving it by
the secret opening in your cellar. Nothing has been disturbed, and the
divers' helmets were in their accustomed place. If the Americans had any
knowledge of it, their soldiers would already be in possession."
"Provided that we can keep the secret until the day of the grand
opening," muttered Togi, uneasily. "You are sure," he went on, "that the
connections are perfect?"
"The wires have been so strung that not one of the charges has been
overlooked," asserted Ofirio, confidently. "There will be no interval
between the explosions. When your finger presses that button, there will
be a roar that will deafen the city and shake the whole Isthmus."
There was a brief pause, and Bert's heart beat so hard that it almost
seemed as though it must be heard. The hideous plot had been revealed in
all its blackness. His face was blanched as he thought of the
possibilities, but he exulted in the fact that, at last, he had definite
knowledge. He knew what was to be done--the destruction of the Canal
Gate. He knew how it was to be done--by an electric current sent
through the wires to the concealed explosives. He knew when it was to be
done--on the opening day of the Canal.
In his mind's eye, he could see the progress of the plan that had been
conceived and carried on with such infernal cunning. With the patience
of moles, they had dug an underground tunnel, extending from Namoto's
mansion to within a short distance of the locks. The mention of the
divers' helmets gave him a clue to the way in which the holes had been
made and the dynamite inserted. No doubt they had taken advantage of
stormy nights, lowering themselves into the water at a distance from the
locks and then slowly groping their way toward them. The wires had found
a conduit in the tunnel, and ran directly to the library of Namoto. His
index finger was indeed the finger of Fate, that expected to write a
record of disaster to the United States. One pressure on a button would
send the electric current surging through the wires, and the great Canal
would, for a time at least, be put completely out of commission.
But, after all, this was not an end in itself. It was only the means to
an end. It would be mere vandalism to cripple the Canal, simply for the
sake of inflicting damage. Besides, the injury could be repaired, and,
in a short time, all traces of it would have vanished. There must be an
object for all this enormous toil and risk. What was it?
Namoto had spoken of the Atlantic fleet not being able to get through to
the Pacific. "Ten days of panic and confusion." Why was it so
imperative to prevent the warships on this side from joining their
comrades on the other? Naturally, to keep the Pacific squadron weak and
less able to resist attack. Then, an attack was planned. By whom? Who
could attack us from the Pacific side but Japan? And when? Within ten
days. And again Allison's words sounded in Bert's ears like the knell of
doom: "Perhaps at this very moment a Japanese fleet is on its way to the
Pacific slope."
With a sinking of the heart, Bert reflected on the vast number of
American warships now at Colon or hastening there. The government had
planned to make a great demonstration of naval strength, in order to
impress the nations of the world. For this purpose, many had been called
home from European stations. Some of the most formidable dreadnoughts
building at the navy yards had been rushed along in construction, so as
to be manned and launched for the great review. Others, which naturally
belonged to the Pacific squadron, but had been in the drydocks for
repairs, would in the ordinary course of things, have been despatched
before this around the Horn, to join their brethren in the Pacific. But
since the opening of the Canal was so near at hand, it seemed unwise to
steam ten thousand miles, when, in a little while, the same result could
be attained by traveling fifty. Thus, from various causes, at least
three-fourths of the American navy was on the Atlantic side. If it could
be kept there, the Japanese could attack the remnant in the Pacific in
overwhelming force. Then, with these captured or destroyed, the Japanese
vessels could bombard San Francisco and Seattle, land their troops from
the crowded transports, and gain control of the whole western coast of
the United States. It was an imperial idea--boldly conceived, broadly
planned, patiently developed, but--and Bert thanked God--not yet
executed.
These thoughts had passed through his mind with lightning rapidity. But
now, the plotters had resumed their talk. This time, it was Togi who
spoke.
"I would that the time were set for to-night," he said. "The present is
in our hands. The future is uncertain. Fortune is fickle. Fate has its
whims, its bitter jests. All is ready. One pressure on that button, and
before ten seconds have passed, the work is done. Is it wise to wait,
Namoto?"
Bert scarcely dared to breathe, while he waited for the answer. It was
long in coming. Namoto seemed wavering. Togi had spoken truly. The
present moment was his. The future was on the "lap of the gods."
Perhaps, in obedience to the mysterious laws of mind, the very presence,
though unknown, of Bert, just outside the window, made him sense dimly
some crouching danger. But the moment of indecision passed, and he
answered, slowly:
"It cannot be, Togi. We must wait. We have waited nearly three years.
Surely the gods of Japan will not desert us in the next two days. There
are many reasons for waiting, but here are two:
"The shock must come at just the right moment. It will be tenfold more
paralyzing, more panic-breeding. When bells are ringing, when crowds are
cheering, when America is exulting, when the world is watching--at just
that instant the blow must fall. The power of the unexpected is
irresistible. The enemy's fall will be more crushing, and Japan will
loom up, a sinister image of dread, that will fill the whole horizon.
"Then, too, with every hour that passes, our fleet is drawing nearer.
From all quarters of the compass they are converging. Of course, they
will not form a compact squadron, until the news is flashed to them that
the Gate has been destroyed. Then they will unite for the last great
rush upon the Coast."
"I should think," ventured Ofirio, "that so many Japanese warships in one
part of the Pacific would be noted by merchant ships and reported to
their governments. Do you not fear that suspicion may be aroused before
you are ready?"
"Not so," answered Namoto. "Our Naval Department has shown the utmost
care and caution. For a year past the vessels have been sent to various
ports along the coast of Japan. In every harbor they have lurked, one
here, another there, at Nakodate, Miyako, Nagasaki, Noshiro, Ohama, and
others. Some have been reported in the naval bulletins as drydocked.
Others have been sent, in ones and twos, on missions of courtesy or
diplomacy to China, Australia, and other countries bordering on the
Pacific. So adroitly and innocently has this been done, that not even a
rumor is current in any foreign cabinet that anything is afoot, and even
the masses of the Japanese themselves do not know what their government
is doing. But all the commanders have had definite orders so to time
their departure from the various ports as to meet at a given parallel
within a day or two of the time set for the opening of the Canal. That
parallel is between Hawaii and San Francisco, barely two days distant
from the latter. Steam is up, the magazines filled, the guns shotted,
the plan of campaign worked out to the last detail. Like hawks, they are
hovering within easy reach of each other, ready for the signal. The
moment I press this button, the wireless will flash the news across all
the continents and all the seas. Then the captains who smashed the
Russians at Port Arthur and in the Sea of Japan will turn their vessels'
prows toward arrogant America, and within forty-eight hours our guns will
be thundering at her western doors."
A dull glow crept into his sallow cheeks and his eyes blazed, as he saw
in vision the victory of his beloved Nippon.
"But there," he said, as though repenting his outburst of enthusiasm, so
foreign to his habitual reticence and self-control, "they will do their
part. It only remains for us to do ours. I will not keep you longer
to-night, Ofirio," he went on, by way of dismissal. "Report to me
to-morrow at the same hour for final instructions."
He pressed a bell, and a servant, bending low, ushered the Cuban out into
the night.
But Togi still lingered. The lines in his face had deepened. His long
experience had taught him how often the cup is dashed from the lips as
one makes ready to drink. The reaction and depression that come to one
when, after tremendous toil and strain, his plans await fruition, held
him in their grip. It is true, those plans seemed faultless. Nothing
had failed in their calculations. The mechanism was working without a
jar. But this very perfection was in itself ominous. Perhaps, even
then, fate was preparing to spring upon them and lay their hopes in
ruins. And again his eyes turned longingly toward the button, the
lightest touch on which would shock the world to its center.
Namoto noticed the direction of his glance and smiled.
"Be not impatient, Togi," he said. "Soon now the hour will strike that
marks the beginning of a glorious era for our loved Nippon."
"Glorious, yes," answered Togi. "Whether we win or lose, it will be
glorious. Our soldiers will know how to fight and die for their country,
as they have always done, and even if defeated they will not be
dishonored."
"Dream not of defeat," protested Namoto. "Let not that word of evil omen
pass your lips. To doubt may draw down on us the frown of the gods."
"But America is a great country, and her people, too, are brave.
Besides, they are as the sands of the seashore for number."
"So was Russia great, and yet we beat her to her knees. We hurled back
her armies and we crushed her fleets. So will we do to this haughty
country, that sneers at us as an inferior race. America has had no real
war for fifty years. She has no veterans left. We have hundreds of
thousands who have had their baptism of fire on the field of battle. Can
their raw volunteers face the seasoned warriors of Japan? Their regular
troops are but a handful and are scattered all over the country. Before
any real force can be brought against us, we will have subdued all the
country west of the Rocky Mountains. Then will come negotiations. As
the price of peace, we will wrest from her Hawaii and the Philippines,
and Japan will be the unquestioned mistress of the Pacific."
"But before this can be done," objected Togi, "will not the Canal be
repaired, so that the rest of the American fleet can pass through and
attack us?"
"No," replied Namoto. "Our first care will be to seize the Canal at the
Pacific end and blockade it. The ships can only come out one by one, and
they would be an easy prey to our vessels awaiting them in overwhelming
force. We would be like cats waiting at the door of a mouse trap. If,
on the other hand, they abandoned this and sailed around the Horn, it
would be a matter of many weeks before they would reach us, and then they
would be strained and weather tossed and uncoaled. Then, too, the
Pacific squadron will have been destroyed, and we will have the advantage
in ships and guns. If, on the way, they attacked Japan in retaliation,
our fortifications, backed by our land forces, would hold them off."
"They could land no troops and would have to content themselves with a
harrying of the coast that would amount to nothing."
"Our plan is perfect," he went on; "everything has been provided for.
But all depends on the blocking of the Canal. If, by any chance, it
should fail, the campaign would be abandoned. Our navy is not yet large
enough to match itself against the combined naval strength of America.
We can only win by dividing the enemy, and beating his squadrons, one at
a time. If the Atlantic fleet gets through to the Pacific, at the
opening of the Canal, our labor of years will vanish into nothingness.
The ships will return quietly to Japan by various, routes, and the
government will be ready to deny that any such plot ever existed. If you
and I are charged with the plot, our country will calmly disown us and
leave us to our fate.
"And we would gladly meet that fate for Nippon's sake, would we not,
Togi? We would go to our death with banzais on our lips. It is sweet
and glorious to die for one's country."
"We are prepared in any event," said Togi. "If we succeed, your yacht is
waiting in the harbor ready to carry us home more swiftly than any can
hope to follow. If we fail--" He made across his breast the sign of
hari-kari--the Japanese form of suicide.
"If we fail," agreed Namoto, solemnly, "our home will be with the
immortal gods."
He reached out his hand, and Togi grasped it firmly. For a moment they
looked into each other's eyes. Then with a murmured word of farewell,
the elder man turned and glided from the room.
Left alone, Namoto rose and strolled restlessly about. Then he
approached the window, beneath which Bert lay hidden.
For a while he stood there motionless. Then he leaned out to catch the
refreshing breeze. Bert tried to make himself as small as possible, and
pressed close against the house. Namoto's eyes, glancing carelessly
about, suddenly fell on the crouching figure.
Startled, he drew back, a cry shrilling from his lips. Like a flash,
Bert straightened up, leaped through the open window, and the next
instant his hands had closed about Namoto's throat. Down to the floor
they went with a crash.
But the mischief had been done. The cry of Namoto had carried beyond the
room. The door burst open and a horde of retainers rushed in. There was
a stunning blow on the head, a shower of sparks streamed before his eyes,
his grasp relaxed, and Bert felt himself sinking, sinking into a
fathomless abyss.