MATTERS ARRANGED.
Captain Nemo, junior, made an astonishing rally during the night the
_Grampus_ was creeping slowly up the shore of British Honduras. He
awoke from a refreshing slumber, sound of mind and with an optimistic
outlook on life which boded good things for Speake, Gaines, and
Clackett.
The doctor, when he called, shook his hand in congratulation.
“You are doing better than I dared to hope, captain,” said he.
“Can I talk business, doctor?” asked the captain.
“As much as you like. Keep on with the same medicine, Cassidy,” the
doctor added to the mate; “I don’t think we can improve on that.”
As soon as the doctor had gone, Cassidy made a confession which he
had been keeping stored away in his mind for several days. It was a
confession of his treachery toward Bob Steele and the rest of his
mates aboard the _Grampus_ during the other cruise south to rescue the
American consul.
Cassidy did not spare himself, but told the astonishing facts fully and
in detail.
Captain Nemo, junior, listened in pained surprise. For several minutes
after Cassidy finished he did not speak.
“If you’re going to begin drinking again, Cassidy,” said the captain,
“I suppose we ought to part company.”
“I’ve taken my last drink,” declared Cassidy.
“Do you mean it?”
“I do.”
“And Bob Steele, on his way back from the River Izaral, put you back in
the ship as mate?”
“Yes.”
“Well, whatever Bob Steele does is good enough for me. If you were put
there as mate, then you stay there.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Cassidy, shaking his captain’s hand.
At that moment a rap fell on the door. Cassidy opened it, and Gaines,
Speake, Clackett, and Bob Steele walked into the room.
“Well, well, Bob!” cried Captain Nemo, junior, his face brightening
wonderfully at sight of the young motorist, “this is a pleasure, I must
say! You’ve brought the entire crew of the _Grampus_ with you, eh?”
“Not quite all of them,” laughed Bob. “Cassidy was here, taking care of
you, and we left Dick and Carl aboard for an anchor watch.”
“You fellows act as though you had something on your minds,” observed
the captain, giving the three members of the crew a curious look.
“That’s what we have, sir,” answered Gaines. “We have a confession to
make.”
“Confession!” muttered the captain. “This seems to be my morning for
hearing confessions. Well, go ahead.”
Thereupon Speake, Gaines, and Clackett, on their part, told the captain
exactly what had taken place during this second trip to the River
Izaral. Captain Nemo, junior, was dumfounded. Pursing his thin lips,
he leaned back in his chair and watched and listened with the utmost
attention.
“So,” said he cuttingly, when the recital was done, “Bob Steele refused
to take my boat south, in response to the request of this scoundrelly
don, and you locked Bob and Dick in the storage room of the submarine
and went off whether they would or no! And you called Bob out of the
room to fix the motor and keep the boat from going on the reefs; and
you picked up a supposedly shipwrecked crew out of a boat, and the
crew turned on you and captured the _Grampus_; and, with the aid of
Miss Sixty, Bob Steele and his friends recovered the boat, captured
Fingal, Pitou, and some others, and turned them over to the cruiser
_Seminole_--all of which would not have happened had not you, Speake,
Gaines, and Clackett acted in an insubordinate and mutinous manner.
What had I ought to do with them, Bob?”
“They behaved finely during the fighting and while we were running down
the river, past the fort,” replied Bob, “so I don’t think they should
be dealt with very severely, captain.”
“You’re too easy with them, Bob! Look at the trouble they caused you!”
“But see what good luck came out of it, captain. We captured Pitou and
Fingal.”
“That isn’t the best thing that has come out of it, Bob,” remarked the
captain. “The best thing for me is the fact that this mutinous conduct
of Speake, Clackett, and Gaines proves, more than ever, that you are
always to be depended on. You refused to sail away on a wild-goose
chase after listening to a plausible story told by this rascally don,
and----”
“I took a good deal of stock in the story at the time it was told,
captain,” said Bob.
“That may be; but you didn’t let your own desires override what you
conceived to be your duty. There would have been no merit in your act,
for you, if you had not wanted to go with the don, but yet allowed your
idea of duty to me hold you back. I am much obliged to you, Speake,
Gaines, and Clackett, for affording me this added proof that my
confidence in Bob Steele is not misplaced. But, if I ever hear of any
further mutiny on the _Grampus_, there will be something happen which
none of you will ever forget.
“The U. S. cruiser _Seminole_ is in the harbor, and I am positive that
her captain bears some news for me of a very important nature. This
may make it necessary for a call to be made upon the officers and crew
of the _Grampus_ for some further work. I cannot tell yet as to that,
but you’ll receive your orders later. If so it turns out, then your
commanding officer will be Bob Steele. Now leave me, all of you, for
I have both listened and talked too much, and I am beginning to feel
tired. Have the periscope ball and mast repaired, Bob, as soon as
possible, and call and see me to-night.”
As Bob left the house and made his way along the street, he came
suddenly upon Ysabel Sixty, again clad in her feminine clothes and
looking like the Ysabel he used to know of old.
“You did not stay long at home, Ysabel,” said Bob.
“I couldn’t,” she answered. “I wanted to find out what your plans were,
and how long you expect to remain in Belize.”
“That’s all in doubt, as yet. I am to call on Captain Nemo, junior,
to-night, and perhaps he will be able to tell me something about future
plans.”
“I hope,” and there was a tremulous earnestness in the girl’s words,
“that you are not going to leave Belize very soon.”
“I should like to stay here a little while, Ysabel, myself,” said Bob.
Her face brightened. “And if you are here for a while, you will come
often and see me?”
“You may depend upon it,” said Bob, taking her hand cordially. “I shall
never forget this last experience of yours, and how you undertook an
exceedingly risky venture solely to be of aid to me.”
There was a gentleman waiting for a word with Bob, and Ysabel, with a
glad smile, turned away in the direction of home.
“Señor Bob Steele?” asked the gentleman, who had been waiting for
Ysabel to finish her talk with Bob.
“The same, sir,” replied Bob.
“I, my boy, am Don Ramon Ortega, the Spanish consul in Belize. I wish
to beg your pardon for the serious misadventures into which you were
plunged through the unwarranted use of my name by that unmitigated
scoundrel, Don Carlos Valdez.”
“You were not to blame for that, don.”
“Perhaps not, but I feel keenly the trouble which my name--always an
honorable one--has caused you. Some time, when my family return from
Mexico, I shall hope to see you at my home as an honored guest. Will
you come?”
“Certainly, sir, if I am in Belize.”
“I thank you, señor,” said the don; and then, with a courtly bow, he
passed on.
Bob hardly knew whether to laugh or look sober; but when he reflected
on how the rascally Don Carlos had juggled with the Spanish consul’s
name, and used it for base purposes, he felt that perhaps the consul
was right in taking the matter so much to heart.
That evening, Pedro was taken ashore and lodged in the house of
Ysabel’s relatives. The next day he took passage to Cuba, and forever
cut himself adrift from revolutions and the filibusters who foster
them.