FOOTPRINTS
In spite of the fact that he had been able to get but a few hours’ sleep,
Jack was awake before six o’clock. The noise Mr. Ryder made in the
adjoining room aroused him, and when he realized that the engineer was
getting ready to start for the power plant, he dressed with all speed.
But though they were up early, old Tom Why had been awake fully half an
hour before them as a steaming breakfast testified.
The two did not linger long over their coffee, however, for they were
too eager to reach the station before the day men arrived and tracked
through the cement powder. Indeed, they left the cottage still munching
the last of their meal. The sun had been up two hours, but the mountains
across the river were so tall that its rays were only just getting down
into the broad valley that held Necaxa. Jack’s first view of the place
by daylight pleased him greatly. As Mr. Ryder had said, the country was
wilderness, the only evidence of civilization being the tracks of the
narrow gage railroad and the steel poles that carried the four black
serpent-like transmission lines across the clearing and into the forest
toward Mexico City. Necaxa was completely shut off from the rest of the
world by mountains, the nearest community being a little nameless Indian
village down the river.
However, the lad had no time to gaze at the scenery just then, for in a
few minutes the workmen would be on the way to the plant. Jack and Mr.
Ryder hurried to the side door they had used but three hours before,
and in a few moments they were looking at their recent handiwork. From
one machine to another they hurried, closely inspecting the dust on the
floor, before sweeping it into the pail again. Though they did not expect
to find traces of a nocturnal visit by the mysterious trouble maker they
were keenly alert for every little clue. They inspected each appliance
in the main room but all seemed to be in good order, nor did the cement
powder reveal a single telltale mark. There remained only the small
generators of the exciter sets to be inspected. Jack hurried forward to
brush up the dust about these machines, for the men were already entering
the plant and he did not care to let them know of the trap.
And as he stooped over, his eyes caught the distinct outline of a foot
close to the base of the generator! Another and still another were
discovered close by. He could scarcely credit his eyes. But Mr. Ryder,
who was directly behind him, saw the imprints also.
“By George, we’ve a clue at last!” he exclaimed, leaning forward and
examining the tracks. “They have been made by naked feet too! What do you
think of that!”
“And I’ll be hanged if that isn’t the mark of a scar on the left heel!”
he ejaculated, as he dropped to his hands and knees and scrutinized the
tracks. “Oh, our task is an easy one now! I’ll guarantee to have the
meddler in the hands of the rurales by sundown with this evidence to
work on. But look how they have riddled the exciter!”
As Jack bent closer he too could see the mark of a scar. The foot had
removed the concrete dust completely except for a little ridge diagonally
across the heel. This showed plainly that there had been a sharp
indentation in the flesh at that point. And as the same mark showed in
every other imprint of the left foot there was small room for doubt.
“Well, it looks as if our trap had worked far better than we expected,”
he said jubilantly, as they prepared to obliterate the track by sweeping
up the dust.
“Indeed it did,” replied Mr. Ryder. “Here’s positive proof that the
culprit is a peon, and with this telltale scar to help out it is only
necessary to inspect every peon in the plant and pick out the guilty
individual. We’ll have them lined up immediately.”
Together they hurried out of the station and across to the quarters of
the army officers. The captain in command of the post was on the front
porch of his cottage washing his face in a tin basin when Mr. Ryder
interrupted him. The engineer spoke a few words in Spanish and the
officer hastily reached for a towel, at the same time calling loudly
for an orderly. That individual arrived from behind the cottage as if
produced by magic, and after listening to the captain’s brief orders
saluted and hurried to the barracks building, from the door of which the
soldiers were just emerging in various stages of attire.
He returned presently, to be followed five minutes later by a young
officer in charge of a squad of ten soldiers. Curt instructions were
issued by the commander and the soldiers broke ranks immediately and went
hurrying here and there about the plant, rounding up every peon in sight.
Some of the native laborers protested violently against being hustled
into line along the south wall of the station, for they were afraid that
they were about to be shot, this being the spot where all the executions
in Necaxa were staged. But their protests were of no avail, for the
soldiers took keen delight in hurrying them along with the sharp point of
their bayonets or the flat stock of their guns.
In less than no time two score natives were facing the gray stone wall.
They were a heterogeneous assortment of half-breeds and full-blooded
Indians with ragged garments and hair long and unkempt. None wore shoes
or even sandals.
When every native had been located and the line was complete the soldiers
withdrew a short distance and the captain then turning to Mr. Ryder,
spoke nervously and with great concern:
“Here are they, Señor, maybe now you find them sick mans, yes.”
“Why did he say ‘those sick men?’” asked Jack, somewhat puzzled.
“I told him there was a rumor abroad that one of the peons had leprosy
and that we wanted to find him and put him in a pest house. Though I know
very little about the disease I understand it shows first on the face,
palms of the hands or soles of the feet,” answered the engineer.
“But why did you tell him that?” demanded the lad.
“Well, for the simple reason that I do not care to let any one know what
we have discovered. I think the less said about the scar the easier it
will be for us to catch our man. If we keep it to ourselves he will never
suspect that we set a trap for him. Now for the search.”
Mr. Ryder, Jack and the captain began a tour of inspection. Each Indian
was commanded to lift first one foot and then the other, while Jack and
the engineer scrutinized them closely. The engineer in addition examined
their hands and face as well, though not with as keen an eye as he
watched the feet. The peons all submitted to the inspection meekly, but
it was quite evident from the expression on their faces that they could
not understand the whole proceedings. One by one they were passed and as
Mr. Ryder neared the end of the line his brow wrinkled in a perplexed
frown. Finally when the last man was allowed to go he turned to the
officer in charge of the squad and demanded:
“Are these all the peons there are about the plant? There must be more!”
“No more are here, Señor. But maybe those sick mans you look on is
here in the night men. There are—ah—_diez hombres_,” said the officer
excitedly.
“Jack,” said the engineer, “that fellow may be right. It is possible that
my man _is_ on the night force or he may be a strange peon who gets into
the plant somehow. I think the next move for us to make is to go down to
the Indian village and do some detective work there. Most of the peons we
hire live down there and it is more than likely that we will find the man
with the scarred heel among them.”
“That sounds reasonable,” said Jack, after considering the question. “Why
not go down there while the trail is hot?”
“All right,” said Mr. Ryder, “but let me warn you that we will have to
travel through about five miles of country infested with rebels and, as
you know, they do not look upon any of the white men from the plant with
very great favor.”
“I am willing to take the chance,” said Jack, laconically.
“Very good, only be sure your gun is in working order and your cartridge
belt is full.”