ON THE WAY.
“What have I got left to live for?” growled Cassidy, looking up into
Bob’s face. “I turned against the best friend I ever had just because
he had sense enough to put a better head than mine in charge of the
_Grampus_.”
“You took to drinking,” said Bob. “That, I think, was at the bottom
of what you did. But I don’t harbor any grudge, and I don’t believe
Captain Nemo, junior, will, either.”
“He’ll never overlook this,” muttered Cassidy, shaking his head. “An’
it was him that pulled me out of the gutter, up there in Philadelphia,
set me on my feet, and done everything possible to make a man o’ me. I
ain’t fit to live!”
“When a man’s not fit to live,” said Bob, tempted to be out of
patience, “he certainly is not fit to die. Look this thing square in
the face, Cassidy, and live it down.”
“But you don’t know all I done.”
“I guess I do, pretty near.”
“No, you don’t. I began plannin’ to do some underhand work, the minute
I heard what the cap’n was going to do for you. Whenever I git a
drink in me, I’m ripe for anything. That’s why I sampled that brandy
I was bringing to the cap’n. I wanted to nerve myself up for what I
was plannin’ to do. I listened to you when you was reading the sealed
orders. I heard it all, and I knew I had something then that was
valuable. As soon as you and Ferral left the _Grampus_, I got away,
too. As I stepped out o’ the sailboat at the landing, this Cap’n
Fingal spoke me. We went into a drinkin’ place by the wharf and we
spilled a lot of rum down our throats. That was enough to set us both
going. I told Fingal what I knowed, and he told me a lot about himself.
He said he’d make it right with me if I could get you disabled so you
couldn’t manage the _Grampus_, and would have to be left behind. That,
as Fingal and I both figgered, would put me in command. It was to
handle you rough, and land you in a hospital, that we trailed you to
the consulate. When we failed there, we come back to the landing, and
Fingal says for me to jump aboard his schooner with him and then lay
for the _Grampus_ up the Izaral. I told Fingal I thought it was the
Rio Dolce, but he laughed and said if you’d read it that way you was
stringing me.
“I was about ready to quit on the business, after what happened at the
consulate, but Fingal got more rum down me, talked about how I’d been
imposed on, and told what a fine thing it would be if we could make you
fail in the work you had come down here to do.
“That kind of pleased me, too. If I could have fixed it so you’d fall
down on the job the cap’n had laid out for you, then, I thought, the
cap’n would think he had made a mistake in not putting me up as boss of
the submarine. Funny how a feller’s idees will git squeegeed that away
as soon as he gets a little grog under hatches.
“Well, anyway, I went with Fingal. We left the schooner at Port
Livingstone, and Fingal told the mate of the schooner to go down to
Barrios and stay there till Fingal joined him. Then we stole the motor
boat and hustled up the river to that outfit of ragamuffins that’s
hopin’ to grab the country and turn it over to another dictator. I
was disgusted with the lot of ’em, and with old Pitou more’n any of
the rest. I wouldn’t go near Coleman, and when our information worked
out, and Jordan and the half-breed was captured, I felt sore enough
at myself; but it was Speake that cut me up the worst. Him and me had
always been friendly on the _Grampus_, and there I was, after betraying
him into the hands of his enemies. Oh, I tell you, Bob, I felt bad
enough to go down to the river and jump in. Then, when old Pitou made
up his mind to send the prisoners down the river in the launch to
another of his hangouts where he thought they’d be safer, and app’inted
me as one of the guards to go with ’em and see that none of ’em got
away, I felt about as respectable as a horse thief. Of course, when you
bumped us on the bottom with the submarine, I couldn’t sink into the
river and never come up; oh, no, I just naturally had to land right
on the deck, without so much as getting my feet wet. I don’t know how
I ever can go back to Belize and look the cap’n in the face. That’s
honest.”
Cassidy’s regret for what he had done was so profound that it made a
deep impression on Bob.
“You’re not a bad fellow at heart, Cassidy,” said he. “Captain Nemo,
junior, knows that, as well as all the rest of us. Besides, it was a
little bit rough to jump a fellow like me over the head of an old hand
like you, and----”
“It wasn’t!” growled Cassidy; “not a bit of it!” He lifted his fierce
eyes. “Think I’ve got the head to do what you done? No, not in a
thousand years! The cap’n knowed what he was about, and I didn’t have
sense enough to see it.”
“Well, you buck up and go to the captain. You didn’t cause any great
harm, anyhow, the way things have come out. The captain will be so
pleased over what’s been accomplished that he’ll overlook a good deal.
I’ll say a good word for you, Cassidy.”
“You will?” demanded the mate incredulously.
“Yes.”
“Well, that’s a heap more’n I deserve.”
“You’ll be the mate to help us back to Belize. I’m in charge until we
get there, and I order you to go below and go on duty.”
“Orders is orders, I reckon.” Cassidy hoisted himself up and followed
Bob to the tower hatch and down into the periscope room. The room was
fairly crowded, and a roar of delight went up at the sight of Bob.
It died away suddenly as Cassidy showed himself. A glitter came into
Speake’s eyes as he regarded the mate.
“Better lock Cassidy up somewhere, Bob,” suggested Jordan.
“Yes,” grunted Speake venomously, “or tie his hands and feet an’ throw
him overboard.”
“You’re wrong in your drift, friends,” said Bob quietly. “Cassidy is
a good fellow at heart, and Fingal twisted him around his fingers. I
haven’t any fault to find with Cassidy, and he’s going back to Belize
as mate of the _Grampus_.”
“Well, that’s playing it kind of rough on some of the honest men that
stood by the ship!” protested Dick.
“Vat a foolishness, Bob!” exploded Carl. “Dot feller come pooty near
being der finish of you.”
“Better think that over a little, Bob,” suggested Jordan.
“Him planty bad man,” said Tirzal, climbing up into the tower in order
to do his steering from the lookout.
“If he stays, mate, I resign!” snapped Speake.
“No, you don’t, Speake!” answered Bob. “I’m master of this boat until
we get back to Belize. Cassidy’s mate, and you’re in the torpedo room.”
“You see how it is, Bob,” muttered Cassidy.
“It’s as I want it, Cassidy,” said Bob firmly, “as far as Belize.”
“But, look here,” began Speake, disposed to argue the point, “here’s a
man, holdin’ the responsible position of mate, as goes----”
“Forget that for a while, Speake,” interrupted Bob, “and remember the
number of times Cassidy’s pluck and friendship have been a help to all
of us. Put all the fine things Cassidy has done into one side of the
scale, and this one black mark in the other, and there’s still more
than enough left to entitle him to our confidence.”
“I’m obliged to you, Steele,” said Cassidy. “I’ll go on as mate as far
as Belize, and then the cap’n can settle the matter as he thinks right.
Just now, though, I’m tired and I guess I’ll go to the torpedo room and
take a rest.”
“All right,” said Bob. “You go to the torpedo room, too, Speake.”
Speake hesitated, then followed Cassidy out of the room.
“You’re a queer jigger, Bob Steele,” remarked Jordan.
“But he’s right, all the same,” said Coleman.
“Oh, yes, Jerry,” Jordan interposed, grinning, “you stick in your oar!
You’re sort o’ chesty for a chap who’s been stowed away in the jungle
with revolutionists for a couple of weeks or more, eating mule meat,
and making all kinds of trouble for the state department of your native
country! How’d you get run away with, in the first place?”
“That was too easy, Hays,” laughed Coleman. “I came across from the
Pacific to Port Livingstone, and while I was there, the revolutionists
gobbled me.”
“I believe you said they’d treated you well?”
“The best they could. I played poker with Pitou, and I learned, before
I had been two days in the rebel camp, that it wasn’t safe to beat the
general. As long as I allowed him to beat me, I was treated to the best
he had. Whenever I beat him, my rations--even the mule meat--were cut
down.”
Coleman turned to Ysabel, who had been sitting quietly by.
“I’m mighty glad, little girl,” said he, “that you are able to get
clear of Pitou and Fingal.”
“So am I, Mr. Coleman,” answered Ysabel. “If it hadn’t been for Bob
Steele I’d be still in the camp.”
“Bob Steele again!” laughed Coleman.
“Always Bob Steele!” chimed in Jordan, with a quizzical look at the
youth.
“He iss der feller vat does t’ings, you bet,” declared Carl.
“Let’s hear about what happened while Speake, Tirzal, and I were away
from the boat,” suggested Jordan.
“Not now,” answered Bob. “I’m hungry, whether the rest of you are or
not. Speake,” he called through the tube leading to the torpedo room,
“see if you can get something in the way of breakfast.”
“Aye, aye, sir!” answered Speake heartily.
For some time the _Grampus_ had been heaving and tossing in a way that
made it difficult for those in the periscope room to keep their seats.
Bob took a look into the periscope.
“Ah!” said he; “we’re out of the river and heading for Belize.”
“And glad I’ll be to get back there,” remarked Jordan, with
satisfaction. “You’ve made me a lot of trouble, Coleman.”
“I seem to have made a lot of you a good deal of trouble,” returned
Coleman, “and I’m mighty glad I’ve ceased to figure as an international
issue.”
“We all are, for that matter,” said Jordan.