A CONFERENCE.
Jim Darlington and John Berwick, the latter the once time engineer of
the Sea Eagle, were on the morning on which our story opened, after an
early breakfast, seated in a secluded part of the rotunda of the
Commercial Hotel, where, safe from possible eavesdroppers, they were
discussing the events of the previous day.
"Well, Jim," asked Berwick, "what comes next?"
"I don't know," answered Jim. "I am just trying to think it out."
"Well, I hope your mind is in better condition than mine," returned
Berwick, "I don't seem to see any way out."
"Then, we must make one."
"I confess it's too much for me," went on Berwick, sitting back
resignedly. "That old rascal of a Bill Broome seems to have made a clean
sweep of it this time. He's got the young senorita safe in his clutches
on the Sea Eagle, and with that sister for a jailer, as far as I can see
he will sail away with her and we can sit here and chew our thumbs for
all we can do."
Berwick was referring to his own and Jim's experiences as related in a
previous book, the "Frontier Boys in Frisco."
"I am not so sure of that," exclaimed Jim, shutting his teeth down with
a snap. "I am not through with that old pirate yet."
"I'm with you there, Jim," agreed Berwick. "I owe him something on my
own account, but I don't see any prospect of an immediate payment."
"If we only knew which way he was going."
"That's a pretty big if," said Berwick.
"Maybe not as big as it looks," returned Jim. "At any rate, I mean to
find out."
"How are you going to do that?"
"I don't know yet, but I mean to find a way."
"I think you will, Jim. Have you no plan in view?"
"None, except to get a boat and follow him. I'd give half a fortune if I
only had Jo and Tom here."
"And Juarez," put in Berwick.
"And Juarez, of course."
"Why not telegraph for them? It would only take a week for them to
come?"
"I'm afraid Broome would not wait for them to get here," answered Jim
with a smile. "Whatever we do has got to be done quick."
"I wonder what he is going to do with the senorita, anyway," went on
Berwick.
"Hold her for a ransom, I suppose," answered Jim. "I've got it!" he
cried, springing to his feet. "Come on."
"What now?" demanded Berwick.
"It's all right," replied Jim, "I'll explain as we go along."
"Glad of it," responded Berwick, "but I'm blessed if I see it."
"Why, you see," began Jim, but as he spoke a bellboy with a yellow
envelope in his hand came up to him.
"Telegraph for yo, sah," he said, handing the envelope to Jim.
"For me!" exclaimed Jim in surprise.
"Yes, sah," replied the boy. "Just done come."
Tearing open the envelope, Jim read the message with an exclamation of
surprised wonder.
"No bad news, I hope," interposed Berwick.
"On the contrary, it's more than good. Just what I was a moment ago
wishing for," replied Jim, handing him the slip. "What do you think of
that? Jo and Tom are actually on their way here. Why, and for what
purpose I don't know, but so it is."
"Of all things!" ejaculated Berwick. "What can it mean?"
"That luck is with us," said Jim. "We will get the Sea Eagle back yet."
"I hope so," replied the engineer, dubiously, "but--"
"Now, John, don't be bringing in any buts," retorted Jim. "Don't you
believe we can do it?"
"Haven't any doubt of it," returned Berwick, laughing heartily at Jim's
impetuous speech. "I was only going to say that Broome is a pretty tough
customer."
"We won't quarrel about that," admitted Jim, with a grin. "He is about
the toughest proposition we have been up against."
"Have you any plan in mind," went on Berwick.
"I think the first thing to do," answered Jim, "is to go and see Senor
de Cordova and learn what he has heard of the senorita."
"Why do you think he has heard anything?"
"If Broome is holding her for a ransom, as we believe, he will send word
to her father as to when and where to send the money."
"That seems reasonable," agreed Berwick.
"I propose to be there, and have a hand in the proceedings."
"Oh, you do! And how do you propose to get there?"
"Can't say yet until I know the when and where of it. It will probably
be in some secluded place where they will expect to be safe from attack,
which will suit us all the better, as we will give them a surprise. If
we can't do any better we will follow them."
"Going to swim after them?"
"It isn't as bad as that," laughed Jim. "I think we will be able to pick
up a boat somewhere that will serve us. The first thing to do is to find
out where they are going."
"That does seem to be advisable," returned Berwick, "if we expect to be
there."
"Now, don't be sarcastic, old chap," replied Jim, good-naturedly. "You
know what I mean. Of course, all our plans must be based on that."
"All right, Jim," agreed Berwick, "but how do you propose to get that
information?"
"Ask Senor de Cordova."
"Don't believe he will tell you," said Berwick laconically.
"Why not?"
"Well, if he has had word from Broome, he has probably been warned not
to say anything about it."
"I hadn't thought of that," admitted Jim, "but still I think he will
tell us. It fairly makes me wild when I think of that girl in the hands
of those ruffians."
Jim clenched his hands as he vowed to himself that it would go hard with
them if any harm came to her.
"Same here," responded Berwick heartily.
Jim was pondering deeply, and sat gazing through the windows.
"Do you know where to find the Senor?" Berwick went on a few minutes
later.
"I suppose he is stopping at the Palace. That is where we saw them the
other day."
A few minutes walk brought them to the hotel, where, on inquiry, they
learned that the Senor had been stopping there, but that he had gone
away that morning.
"No, he did not say where he was going," the clerk informed them. "He
went away on horseback and his man on another mount."
"Then he will probably return to-day?" suggested Jim.
"Who knows?" the clerk answered with a shrug of his shoulders. "No, he
did not say where he was going or when he would be back. No, he hasn't
given up his room. If it is anything of importance about which you wish
to see the Senor, you might interview his lawyer, Mr. Reynolds at No. 10
Court street, who, perhaps might know where he has gone."
"Were they his own horses?" went on Jim.
"Couldn't say," replied the clerk. "Perhaps the porter can tell you. He
went for the horses, I believe. Here, Pedro," calling the porter, who
was standing nearby, "you got the horses for the Senor this morning,
didn't you?"
"Si, Senor," answered the porter, a swarthy Mexican.
"Where did they come from?" asked Jim.
"From Ross and McLanes," replied the porter. "The Senor told me to tell
them to send around the best horses they had in the stable, no matter
what they cost. They were mucho hermosa, very handsome. He paid for them
right down. Never questioned the price."
"Sorry I can't give you more information," added the clerk, "but I think
if you want to find the Senor, you had better see Mr. Reynolds."
"Thank you," replied Jim. "We will go there."
"Hem!" commented Berwick when they were on the street again. "We didn't
find out very much."
"I don't know," answered Jim. "At least we have found that he has heard
from Broome."
"How do you make that out?"
"He went away unexpectedly or he would have made more preparation, and
he left no word where he was going or when he would be back, which shows
that he was going on some secret mission."
"You are probably right," admitted Berwick, after a moment's thought.
"We won't be able to get any information from him."
"But we may get something from his lawyer," replied Jim cheerfully. "He
probably knows where he has gone."
"What shall we do to get there, walk or ride?"
"Better ride, I think," said Jim, hailing a cab. "We haven't any time to
lose."
It was only a short distance, and in less than fifteen minutes they were
in the office of Mr. William Howard Reynolds, who was better known to
the shady side of San Francisco than he was to the reputable inhabitants
of the town. The office was in an old, rather dilapidated building, not
far from the city hall.
"Mr. Reynolds is in," so the clerk in charge of the outer office
informed them, "but is particularly engaged at this time. If the
gentlemen will be seated, I will learn if Mr. Reynolds will see them."
Going into an inner office, he returned a moment later to say that Mr.
Reynolds was very busy, and that he would not be able to give them any
time unless their business with him was of importance.
"Tell him," directed Jim, "that I wish to see him on a matter of much
importance to Senor de Cordova."
The clerk, a man of about forty, with an expressionless face, except for
a cunning twinkle about the eyes, took the card Jim handed him, and
again disappeared into the inner room.
At this moment Jim, who was standing by the windows looking upon the
street, happened to glance down and caught a glimpse of the familiar
figure of Captain Broome, who had apparently just emerged from the
building.
"I wonder what he was doing here," muttered Jim to himself.
"Who? What?" asked Berwick.
"Sh!" whispered Jim, "I will tell you later."
"Mr. Reynolds will see you for a few minutes," announced the clerk,
holding open the door to the inner office for them to pass through.