MOTOR MATT'S FORBEARANCE.
"What's all this? Jupiter! Two webfeet sailing into one lone-handed
youngster! And he seems to be holding his own pretty well, at that. Let
go, you!"
With that, Jordan wrenched Cassidy away and flung him heavily against
one of the veranda posts.
The stranger, scowling and nursing a bruise on his chin, was gathering
up his blue cap. Cassidy, panting and wheezing, was leaning against the
post and glaring wrathfully at the consul.
"That man," said Matt, pointing toward the mate, "is Cassidy, second in
command aboard the submarine. He takes it hard because Captain Nemo,
Jr., placed me in charge, and he came ashore without authority. Who the
other fellow is I don't know, but I presume it is some trouble maker
the mate picked up."
"Trouble maker is right," went on Jordan. "That describes the rascal to
a t, y, ty. I know him. He's Fingal, master of a shady schooner called
the _North Star_, an all around bad one, and the authorities in a dozen
ports in Central America will tell you the same. We'll land him in the
skookum house. And as for Cassidy, it's against regulations for an
officer to attack one who outranks him. We'll put _him_ in the cooler,
too."
The consul was about to call some one from the house with the intention
of sending for an officer, when Matt interposed.
"I don't want to do anything like that, Jordan. These men have been
drinking."
"That's no excuse."
"But Cassidy, when he's not half-seas over and got a fancied grievance,
is a good fellow. He has proved that to me a hundred times. Besides,
Captain Nemo, Jr., thinks a lot of him."
"Well, he can't think much of the captain," answered the consul dryly,
"or he'd pay more attention to his orders. What do you want to do with
the two men?"
"Let Fingal go about his business, if he has any. As for Cassidy, he
can go back to the submarine and give his brain a chance to clear.
After that he'll see things differently."
"I know my rights," snapped Cassidy, shuffling around belligerently,
"and I'm going to hold out for 'em. I've been mate of the _Grampus_
ever since she was launched. And now that the old man's laid up, I
ought to be master. This here Motor Matt hasn't been on the submarine
more'n two weeks, put together."
"Did you hear Captain Nemo, Jr., say that Motor Matt was to be put in
charge of the craft?" queried Jordan.
"I heard it, but----"
"Did the rest of the crew hear it?"
"Yes, only they----"
"Everybody understands the situation, then?"
"I guess they do, if----"
"Then this is a case of all cry and no wool. You're making a fool of
yourself, Cassidy, let alone showing mighty poor taste. Motor Matt is
showing a whole lot more forbearance than I'd ever do, in the same
circumstances. You made an attack on your commanding officer----"
"I don't admit he's that," broke in Cassidy fiercely.
"Nonsense, man!" cried the consul, out of patience. "You'd admit it
quick enough if you wasn't drunk."
"What business you got buttin' into this, anyway?"
Jordan pointed to the flag.
"This is a patch of American soil right in the middle of a foreign
country," said he. "That flag is yours and mine, and I'm here to adjust
just such differences as this between my fellow-countrymen. Motor Matt
is captain of the _Grampus_, and you've heard his orders. If you and
Fingal don't clear out, I'll call a policeman and have the pair of you
taken to the lock-up."
Fingal edged away toward the veranda steps. As he drew close to
Cassidy, he muttered something. The mate gave a thick response, and the
two lurched down the steps and out of sight along the walk.
"Fingal," said Jordan, after watching the two out of sight, "is setting
the mate up to act as he's doing. His influence is bad, particularly as
the mate appears to be a good deal of a numskull without much reasoning
ability of his own."
"He has always been a first-rate hand," returned Matt regretfully, "up
in his duties and entirely reliable. This sudden move of his is one of
the biggest surprises I ever had sprung on me."
"That's the way with some people. Give 'em the idea that they've been
imposed on, and they're just weak enough in the head to make all sorts
of trouble. If you've got the rest of the crew with you, though, it
will be easy enough to take care of Cassidy. However, if he wanted to
he could make lots of trouble for this expedition."
"I'll see that he doesn't do that. If he shows a disposition along that
line, I'll have him locked in the torpedo room. Why he ever came here
and set upon me like he did, is a mystery. I guess it was because he
was too drunk to know what he was doing."
"That's an easy way to explain it," was the consul's sarcastic comment.
"On the other hand, he may have come here with the expectation of doing
something to you that would make it necessary for you to be left in
Belize with Captain Nemo, Jr."
"No," answered Matt firmly, "I can't believe that."
"You're altogether too easy," proceeded the consul. "If you were hung
up here with a couple of fractured ribs, or a broken arm, Cassidy would
be the only one left to command the _Grampus_."
Matt shook his head.
"Cassidy isn't a brute," said he. "I'd like to know, though, why this
chap, Fingal, is putting in his oar."
"He's got an axe to grind. Drunk or sober, Abner Fingal always has his
eye on the main chance."
"Who is he?"
"He's a Yank, from somewhere up in Maine, but he's been in these waters
so long he's about half Spanish. Crooked as a dog's hind leg--that's
Fingal for you. Sometimes he hoists the flag of Costa Rica, sometimes
that of Nicaragua, and now and then the cross of St. George, but no
matter what colors he sails under he's the same old sixpence. Too bad
Cassidy fell in with him. But there's no use of our wasting any time on
those fellows. We've got the job of our lives ahead of us, and we've
got to get the work started. Any arms aboard the _Grampus_?"
"I thought you said there wasn't to be any fighting?"
"I hope there won't be, my lad, and we'll do everything possible to
avoid it, but there's always a chance of being slipped up in our
calculations. How's the submarine armed?"
"There's a Whitehead torpedo in the torpedo room."
"We'll not use any torpedoes. If there's a scrap, it will be on the
land and hand to hand. Any rifles or ammunition aboard?"
"None that I know about."
"Then I'll bring a few guns, merely to be on the safe side. You'll
attend to the other equipment?"
"About all we'll need is a barrel of gasoline. I can pick that up and
have it taken off to the boat."
"I'll come aboard, bringing this pilot I was telling you about, and
the rest of the plunder, along toward evening. We'll drop down the
coast to-night and start for the rendezvous of the revolutionists
in the morning. It will be well, I think, to go up the river with
the _Grampus_ submerged. In that manner we shall be able to hide our
approach. However, that is something we can settle later. If you----"
The consul paused, his eyes down the street.
"Well," he muttered, "here comes your friend, Ferral, and he appears to
be in a tearing hurry. I wonder if anything has gone wrong with Nemo,
Jr.?"
This thought was uppermost in Matt's mind as he sprang to the top of
the steps and watched Dick running toward the consulate along the
street.
"What's up, Dick?" he asked anxiously, as his chum came close. "Is the
captain all right?"
"They're bringing him on a stretcher, and the doctor thinks he'll be
all right in a few days," Dick answered. "It wasn't that that made me
clap on all sail, matey, but something else."
"What else?"
"Why, Cassidy. As we were coming ashore with the captain I saw the mate
pulling off to a schooner that was anchored half a mile t'other side
the _Grampus_. There was a chunk of a man with him in a blue cap and
coat. They were aboard the schooner when we hit the landing, and before
we started for town, the schooner's anchor was tripped and she was off
down the coast with every rag of sail hoisted and drawing. What does
that mean? What's Cassidy up to?"
Matt was astounded. Turning blankly on Jordan, he saw that his face was
clouded and ominous.