A long blast from the whistle of the _Yucatan_ broke the stillness of
late afternoon.
Mr. Willing, Colonel Ashton and Dick, who were peering shoreward from
the deck of the steamer with straining eyes, looked anxiously at each
other.
"What can be detaining them?" exclaimed the former.
"I am sure I don't know," returned Colonel Ashton. "They probably will
be here in a few minutes."
A boat put off from shore; it was the last of the _Yucatan's_ small
craft, which had been awaiting the return of late passengers. It was too
far away for the watchers to identify those aboard it.
Mr. Willing breathed a sigh of relief.
"I guess they are coming at last," he said.
The three watched the approach of the boat eagerly. At last it came
close enough to make out the occupants. There was not a woman aboard.
Cries of alarm issued from the lips of the three watchers. At the same
moment there came another blast from the steamer's siren.
"They are not in the boat!" exclaimed Dick. "What shall we do?"
Mr. Willing did not stop to reply. He hurried toward the bridge where
Captain Anderson stood, ready to give the signal to up-anchor
immediately the small boat was hoisted aboard.
Mr. Willing, closely followed by Colonel Ashton and Dick, rushed up to
him.
"Captain!" exclaimed Mr. Willing. "My daughter and the colonel's
daughter and Mrs. Sebastian are still ashore. They are not in the last
boat. What is to be done?"
The captain turned the matter over in his mind.
"We should be on our way now," he replied at last. "I am afraid we shall
have to go without them."
Mr. Willing let out a roar of protest.
"No you don't!" he cried. "You can't go and leave my daughter behind
like that."
"Well, what would you have me do?" asked the captain.
"Wait!" was the reply. "Wait for them!"
The captain looked at his watch.
"It's five thirty now," he said. "I shall wait until six thirty."
With this the others were forced to be content.
"If they haven't come then, we'll have the captain set us ashore," said
the colonel.
The passengers from the last boat came over the side, and Mr. Willing
questioned them eagerly. None had seen any sign of the missing ones.
Dick, gazing over the rail, uttered a cry and pointed across the water.
A boat was putting off from shore and coming toward the steamer.
"I guess they are coming at last," said Colonel Ashton. "I'll read Mabel
a lecture when she gets here."
As the boat approached closer it became evident that it had but a single
occupant; and as it drew still nearer, that the occupant was a young
native.
Captain Anderson hailed him through his megaphone.
"What do you want?" he shouted in Spanish.
"Message for Señor Willing!" came the reply.
Five minutes later, bowing and scraping, the boy put a message into Mr.
Willing's hands.
The latter tore it open quickly and his eyes devoured the words in a
moment. Then he gave a cry of rage.
"What's the matter?" asked Colonel Ashton and Dick in a single voice.
For reply, Mr. Willing read them the contents of the letter--a demand
for $20,000 if the girls were ever to be seen again.
Mr. Willing and the others rushed again toward the captain on the
bridge. The captain read the letter gravely.
"I wish I could help you, sir," he said at last. "But it is impossible.
I must get under way within half an hour.
"Hey! Where you going?" This last to the native boy who had suddenly
leaped into the water, climbed into his boat and was making off toward
the shore.
"Get him!" cried the captain to his first officer.
One of the _Yucatan's_ boats put off and gave chase.
But the distance was too great to overtake the fugitive, and it was soon
apparent that he would make his escape.
"If we had laid hold of him we might have learned something," said
Captain Anderson. "He knows where the girls are. But it's too late now."
"What can we do?" demanded Mr. Willing anxiously.
"My advice," said the captain, "is that you stay behind and put the
matter in the hands of the American consul. He can tell you better what
to do than I can."
"Where did the message say to leave the money, Willing?" asked Colonel
Ashton.
Mr. Willing passed him the letter.
"Nine o'clock, southeast corner San Francisco street, Tuesday. Check
payable to Miguel Martinez will do. Come alone," read the colonel.
"H-m-m, must have lots of confidence in themselves if they can use a
check."
"Now gentlemen," said Captain Anderson, "the best I can do is to set you
ashore. I must get under way immediately. I'm sorry, but I have my other
passengers to think of."
Mr. Willing acknowledged the justice of this.
"Give us ten minutes to get some things together and a boat to set us
ashore then," he said.
The captain consented, and Dick and the two men hastened to their
cabins, where they gathered what few belongings they could.
"We'll have the captain dispose of the rest in Frisco," said the
colonel. "We'll get them when we get there."
This the captain agreed to do, and ten minutes later the three were
rushing shoreward in the steamer's powerful gasoline launch. Immediately
they clambered out, the launch put back to the ship.
"Reckon we had better go straight to the consulate, colonel," said Mr.
Willing.
"Right. But how are we going to find it?"
"I'll try some of these natives. Some of 'em must speak English."
After two unsuccessful attempts, Mr. Willing was successful in his
quest.
Half an hour later they were in the presence of the American Consul, Mr.
Edwards, to whom they explained the matter.
"What are they, a band of robbers?" asked Dick.
"I should say they are probably revolutionists," replied the consul.
"The situation here is peculiar. All factions are at war with each
other. The latest so-called patriots are followers of Carranza, and I
happen to know are without funds. If they can't pay their men they will
lose them. I wouldn't be surprised if they were the ones who had
captured your daughters."
"Well, what are we going to do about it?" demanded Mr. Willing.
"To tell the truth, there isn't much we can do. Officially, I am
powerless. The United States hasn't recognized the Carranza faction, and
for that reason I cannot call on its agents officially. However, I can
pay a personal call upon Señor Jorge Hernandez. He may know something."
"Then let's get busy at once," cried Dick.
"I don't suppose you care to pay this ransom, Mr. Willing?" asked the
consul.
"I'll pay it if I can't get my daughter back any other way. If she is in
danger I shall pay it anyhow."
"I am sure that she is in no danger of violence," returned the consul.
"They would not harm an American at this crisis. All they will do is to
hold her in the hope that eventually you will pay. I would advise
against paying the ransom at once."
"I shall follow your advice, sir," said Mr. Willing. "You know more
about these brutes than I do."
"Then we shall call on Hernandez," said the consul. "Come."
He called a cab, and all were soon at the home of Señor Hernandez, who
Consul Edwards explained, was one of the foremost of the revolutionists
in western Mexico.
Señor Hernandez received them cordially, and expressed surprise at the
story Mr. Willing related. He even called his wife into consultation.
"If our party is concerned in this matter I am not aware of it," he told
them. "I shall make inquiries, and if I find it is true, someone shall
pay dearly."
"Oh, some of your fellows have captured them all right," declared Dick
angrily. "I wouldn't be surprised if you know all about it."
"Sir!" exclaimed the Mexican, drawing himself up.
"Mr. Stanley!" exclaimed the consul. "You forget yourself!"
Even Mr. Willing and Colonel Ashton apologized to the Mexican for Dick's
outburst.
"Say no more about it, señors," was the suave reply. "Youth is always
hot-headed, you know."
"I didn't say it because I am hot-headed," declared Dick. "I said it
because I mean it."
Hernandez gazed at the others with an air of wounded dignity.
"If I am to be insulted, I shall not continue the interview longer," he
said.
"The boy meant no harm, señor," said the consul. "He is just angry,
that's all."
"Then, I shall speak more with you if he is excused," was the reply.
The consul looked at Dick.
"You had better go outside," he said. "You have already made trouble
enough."
Dick was on the point of making an angry retort, but checked himself.
"Very well," he said. "I shall wait for you without."
He left the room, and went out on to the street, where he stood gazing
first this way and then that while he waited for the appearance of the
others.
A man swung sharply past him in the darkness. Dick was caught by the
other's erect carriage, plainly that of a military man.
"Too tall for a Mexican," muttered Dick. "I'll have a look at him."
He followed. Under a dim street light half a block away the man paused
to light a cigar. The flare of the match lighted up his features.
"Von Blusen!" exclaimed Dick. "I'll bet he is mixed up in this in some
way. I'll follow him."
Taking pains to avoid being discovered, he set out on Von Blusen's
trail.