After the first day at the Canal Zone, not one member of Mr. Dalken’s
party had time in which to plan for anything beyond the Canal. Bill and
Bob returned late that first night and reported to their companions at
the Barracks that “Beeg Jo” was on board the White Crest; the officer
who had been rescued and carried back to camp on Johann’s back during
the world war was now one of the officers in charge of the American Post
at Panama. Thus one can readily understand the result of such
information.
All the second day the tourists were entertained by Bill and Bob, and
were shown about the country in touring cars which had been pressed into
service by the eager youths. Not only did the yacht-party see everything
worth seeing at Colon and Cristobal, but they saw more of the country
round about the Atlantic side of the Canal than most visitors do who
land there.
After dinner that night the entire party was escorted to the Hop at
Government Headquarters, where dancing formed the programme of the
evening’s entertainment. The coolness of the air made the dancing all
the more enjoyable, and the visitors declared they had never had such a
pleasant time.
Before the ladies said good-night to return to the yacht the government
men had promised them an aeroplane trip the next morning. Mr. Dalken
demurred somewhat when it was first proposed, but his objections were
soon overruled by the girls who were thrilled at the prospect of going
up in a great army plane.
Finally it was agreed that Mr. Dalken with his two men friends should go
up first and test the safety of the plane. If he felt assured that it
was quite safe for younger persons he would consent to their going up.
The entire party made for the field where the hangars of the two ’planes
were to be seen. One ’plane was a small affair which carried but two
passengers, but the other ’plane was a large one with a capacity for
seven passengers besides the engineer and his assistant.
The air sail of about twenty minutes was completed and Mr. Dalken landed
again upon terra firma. It was his first flight of any distance or
height, and he had enjoyed it thoroughly. He was enthusiastic in his
praise of the manner in which the ’plane had been handled by the
experienced men.
But a sudden darkness swept over the sky and the natives were seen to
scamper off for shelter, while the officers and aeronauts hastened their
guests to the hangars until the squall of rain should be over. It fell
just as it had fallen one day at Jamaica; it came down in torrents for a
few minutes, then the sun shone forth again in dazzling brightness.
The girls were eager to get into the aeroplane and take their trip, but
the pilot looked troubled and shook his head.
“What is the matter, Bill?” asked his companion.
“I don’t like the looks of the sky—we’re not through with the squall,
I’m thinking.”
“I think it would be heaps of fun to be above the clouds when it rains
down here,” ventured Eleanor, coaxingly, to Mr. Dalken.
“You wouldn’t say that if you ever went up while a tropical squall
twisted the plane this way and that,” remarked Bob, who had heard her
speech.
“I’m afraid we shall have to call it off for today, ladies,” announced
the pilot, with evident regret in his tone.
“Well, then, we shall have all the more to look forward to to-morrow,”
returned Polly, pleasantly, but Eleanor was annoyed at the delay.
“I don’t see why the nasty old weather had to come just now and spoil
all the fun!” pouted she.
“As long as we do not advise taking the ladies up to-day, why not come
with us for a visit to our sugar plantation,” suggested Bob.
“What is there to see there?” pouted Eleanor, still angry.
“Well, Bill and I have staked a little cane plantation over there and we
haven’t inspected our property for two weeks. We were so busy practicing
for the ball game, and then you came on the scene. If you’ve never
visited a sugarcane plantation it will prove to be interesting, I’m
sure.”
As nothing else had been planned to take the place of the aeroplane trip
that day, the girls accepted the offer to inspect the small plantation.
Having traveled swiftly over the rich country where so little farming
was done because of the exhausting heat, and the prolific crops of
nature-grown fruits and herbs, the two seven-passenger cars came to a
very pretty place. Bill and Bob who were driving, turned in to a rough
road more like a country lane, and passed acres of cane sugar. The two
young owners pointed with pride to their property, and well they might.
“The man of whom we leased this acreage said he had a yield of from six
to eight tons of sucrose an acre every year. But he had more land than
he could cultivate, hence he leased us this acreage and agreed to keep
an eye on our men and the work, whenever he could. The richness of the
soil and the climate gives the cane grown here an unusual amount of
saccharine to the acre,” Bill explained, as his hearers looked over the
vast fields of cane and admired his ambitions.
“Gee, Bill! I don’t know but that I’ll go in with you boys on sugar
raising. I’m sure I’d like it down here,” said Jack Baxter. “How about
it, Ray, want to go fifty-fifty in this?”
Mr. Dalken laughed heartily. “If Ray knows you as well as I do, he’ll
understand that you fall for every new project placed before you. If
some one caught you in the right mood and told you that your fortune was
to be had in digging a Canal through South America, from the Pacific to
the Atlantic, you’d agree with them and start in to dig. But you’d get
tired of it in a week and shirk the work.”
“Why, Dalky, you slander my ideals!” declared Jack.
“Do I? What about Grizzly Slide and your determination to take up mining
out on the peaks of the Rockies? Then in New York you went so far as to
furnish an apartment for the sake of studying interior decorating,” said
Mr. Dalken.
“Oh, no, Dalky!” laughed Eleanor, quickly. “He never furnished that
apartment for the study of furniture, but only for the study of Polly.”
As this temporary infatuation of Jack’s for Polly had been one of the
amusing incidents of the past year, his friends all laughed merrily.
“Well, Mr. Dalken, no need to worry lest Jack buy out a partnership
share with us, because we haven’t anything to sell. We leased the
plantation on a basis which forbids any one sinking money in the scheme.
If this year’s cane turns out well, and we reap any profits, then we
shall feel like moneyed men—not now.”
As the cars drove on to visit the large plantation of the man who had
leased the small one to the soldier boys, the latter explained that cane
took about twelve months to mature; then after the first cutting another
crop came on; the second crop was called ratoons. Sometimes it was
possible, weather and cane both agreeing, to cut a third crop.
From the plantations Bill and Bob drove their guests to the big mills
where the grinding was done. The cars passed several huge stand-pipes
which were filled with water from artesian wells. This water was carried
over the plantations in pipes and at regular intervals there was an open
flume. Into the conduit the water was emptied daily and this form of
trough carried the necessary moisture down the rows of cane to which it
gave the stipulated quantity of water. All this work was regulated by
automatic appliances easily handled and kept in order.
Bob now explained the method of planting cane. “They do not use seed,
you know. The stalk is cut into sections of about two feet in length and
these pieces are dropped into furrows and covered with soil.”
At the mill the visitors saw great piles of cane: some being cut, some
being stripped, and some being piled upon great flat trucks all waiting
to be taken to the freight cars which would carry them to the boats at
Panama or at Colon.
The noise made by the great machines as they crushed, rolled, or poured
the sugar from the cane, made conversation impossible. Bill next led his
friends along beside the carrier which constantly moved the cane through
the trough to feed the crushing machine. At the other side of this great
machine the sweet juice poured forth in torrents.
The next process was that of pumping the cold juice into hot pans and
then boiling the contents by steam. The skimming and liming work, and
finally the feeding into the drying pans by means of coils of pipes,
proved interesting but very tiresome because the heat of the mill was
suffocating to the Northerners. Late in the afternoon the cars sped back
to Colon and the two young planters were induced to stay to dinner on
the White Crest.
“To-morrow we will take you up in the ’planes and have you enjoy a long
ride, your last day at our Post,” remarked Bob at dinner.
“I feel perfectly safe in permitting the girls to go after having been
up and seeing for myself how careful you boys are,” replied Mr. Dalken,
graciously.
“I never thought I would enjoy a ride in the air, as I have always felt
timid about going up in a ’plane,” said Mr. Fabian. “But I am so
thrilled by the trial that I want Mrs. Fabian to try it.”
“No, thank you, sir! I am quite satisfied with good old Mother Earth,”
laughed his wife.
Thus it happened on the following day that the two older ladies in the
party preferred to stay down, but Mrs. Courtney and the girls, together
with Jack and Ray, went forth to meet the aviators on the plain where
the government hangars stood. They had two ’planes waiting and ready for
the sail. A large seven-passenger machine and a smaller one which held
the pilot and two others.
Into the large ’plane went Mrs. Courtney and Nancy Fabian and Ruth
Ashby, after them went the two young men, Jack and Ray. At last the
pilot Bob and his mechanician got in. Bill with Polly and Eleanor got in
the small ’plane.
As the two aeroplanes began to ascend, Mr. Dalken called out: “Don’t go
far! And don’t remain away more than half an hour!”
Those left behind stood and talked with a few of the army men who had
accompanied Bill and Ray to the field. But after waiting for half an
hour and no signs of returning ’planes could be seen or heard, the men
said they thought Bill and Bob had descended near Panama in order to
treat their company to afternoon tea.
Soon after this Mr. Dalken heard the faint far-off sound of a motor in
the air, but no sight of it could be seen. Finally a speck was visible
in the sky and in a short time the large ’plane descended upon the
field, but not one vestige of the smaller one.
“Why!” exclaimed Bob, after he had assisted the ladies to get out of his
’plane. “Aren’t the others back yet?”
“No, did you miss them?” asked Mr. Dalken.
“I don’t know which direction Bill went. We tried to keep up with them,
but that little ’plane is a hum-dinger for speed and it soon outstripped
us. The last we saw of it was when it was speeding over Miraflores
lock—right after that it disappeared and we saw no more of it. I flew
over the same place but it was not there.”
“I hope nothing happened to them!” ventured Mrs. Courtney anxiously.
Before the group could decide upon any action, the sky suddenly clouded
over again and the rain began to empty the rest of its water upon the
section where the most damage might be done. Hence the aeroplane was
rushed into its hangar and the storm-stayed visitors hurried into the
empty hangar usually occupied by the small ’plane.
It was almost six o’clock when the rain ceased and permitted the
tourists to return to their vessel. Jack and Ray went to the barracks
with Bob because they were invited guests to dinner that evening.
Seven o’clock rang and darkness began to fall, yet no word had come from
the absent aviators and every one began to worry over what might have
befallen them.
“If we do not hear from them within the hour I shall go after them. The
trains will probably run to Panama all night, and I will go there first
and start a general search,” said Mr. Dalken.
The rain had ceased entirely now, and the night settled down, but no
word or return of the absent girls. Then Mrs. Courtney took Mr. Dalken
aside and made a suggestion.
“Suppose you accompany me to the telegraph station at Colon? From there
we will send out wires to all the small and large stations on the line
of the Canal. We may hear from some one in that way, and should we not
get any favorable report you can go on to Panama.”
With a few words of explanation the two then left the White Crest and
made their way to the station at Colon. Here they asked many questions
of the telegraph operator and found out that there were many places all
along the Canal where the stranded aviators might have secured shelter
during the storm and also for the night.
But Mrs. Courtney said she would feel better if the messages were sent
broadcast in order to reach some one who would reply. Hence they began
to fill out the blanks for the man to use. Just as they had decided what
to write, the instrument in the office began to click.
“I think this wire is from your two girls; is your name Mr. Dalken, from
the yacht called the White Crest?” asked the man.
“Yes, yes! what do they say?” exclaimed Mr. Dalken anxiously.