THE SEARCH
O’Neil after leaving the midshipman went to his room under the
forecastle and hid away the bundle of clothes until nightfall, when he
intended to leave the ship under the cover of darkness.
As soon as he was sure his movements could not be observed, he let
himself over the bow of the battle-ship and silently dropped into the
water; his foreign uniform he carried in a flat roll on his head. He
was a strong swimmer, and in but a few minutes he was standing safely
on the dock. The friendly darkness permitted him unobserved to discard
his sailor clothes, and he soon stood completely disguised in the garb
of a Verazala naval officer.
He started out briskly for the public landing, hired a shore boat and
was soon alongside the “Aquadores.”
The officer on duty greeted him as an old friend, and the boatswain’s
mate was shortly in Captain Garcia’s presence.
O’Neil told his errand as soon as Captain Garcia would allow him
time to speak; the Spaniard was enthusiastic in his reception of the
American sailor.
“And, sir, I knew you would help me catch this man,” he added; “our
young friend is to be tried by court martial, and if found guilty will
be dismissed from the service.”
Captain Garcia showed the anxiety he felt for Phil’s predicament.
“I am always at the service of my American friends,” he declared
immediately; “but how may I help you find this man?”
“He will go by steamer,” replied O’Neil, “and we must find out the one
and drag him off before she sails. If I go alone I can’t do it, but you
are known and they won’t dare stop us, if you are with me.”
“But may he not have sailed already?” questioned Captain Garcia
anxiously.
“I have thought of that,” O’Neil answered decidedly; “he was at the
legation late last night, and there has been no steamer sailing since.
I’ll stake anything that he is still in La Boca.”
Inside of two hours every vessel in the harbor had been visited by the
two men, but they were doomed to disappointment. Craig was not on board
any of them.
Bitterly disappointed they walked disconsolately through the
brilliantly lighted streets of the town; the city was in gala dress,
celebrating the victory won by the government arms. They passed many
soldiers of both armies, arm in arm; their differences were forgotten
already and they fraternized as if they had always been the best of
friends.
O’Neil felt his mission had failed. To-morrow morning at eight o’clock
the court would try the midshipman, and the missing witness was as far
out of his grasp as ever. Where in this great city could he turn to
search for him? Then his thoughts turned to Ensign Lazar; he had gone
to the admiral to obtain permission to go ashore when he went to the
midshipmen’s room. Where would he be in this thickly populated city?
O’Neil felt confident that if he could find him Craig would not be far
away.
The two friends were passing a palatial residence on the Plaza. An
automobile standing at the curb caught O’Neil’s eye, the chauffeur
sitting erect and expectant in the front seat.
“Whose house is that?” he asked, suddenly turning to Captain Garcia.
“The house of one of our most loyal citizens, Señor Mareno,” he
answered; “he is rich and powerful and stands high in the favor of
General Barras. That is his automobile; he rides in it all the time; it
has just been returned to him; it was stolen on the day of the assault
by the rebels from one of his country villas.”
O’Neil stopped suddenly and gazed at the house. Mareno must be there;
the automobile was awaiting him; its gasoline engine was puffing and
ready to propel the heavy car over the streets of the city at a speed
far greater than they could possibly follow.
Captain Garcia’s voice interrupted O’Neil’s cheerless thoughts.
“Our president,” he was saying, “for the loyal work of Señor Mareno’s
firm, La Fitte and Company, during the war, has promised to give the
vast mining concession to it. In these times of rebellion loyalty is a
rare jewel.”
“What did Mareno do?” asked O’Neil in genuine surprise.
“It was he that loaned the government the money to buy the
‘Aquadores,’” Captain Garcia answered proudly. “Our government had no
credit and the company who built the cruiser would not allow her to
leave their shipyard until every dollar of the money had been paid.
The victory of the ‘Aquadores’ at Rio Grande made the rebel cause
a failure, for if they had won and then had blockaded La Boca, the
government must have fallen.”
O’Neil was puzzled; there was more intrigue that his friends the
midshipmen had failed to discover. So Mareno had made himself secure
with both sides.
“If it had not been for you and your companions,” continued Captain
Garcia after a pause, “we could not have won. My crew, as you know,
were green men and were almost mutinous. My officers were half-hearted
and my executive officer I feel sure was in the pay of the enemy. He
resisted my authority from the day we left the United States and when
we sailed from La Boca for Rio Grande, I found a means of leaving him
behind.”
While Captain Garcia was speaking two men came hurriedly out of the
house and got into the waiting machine.
“That’s Señor Mareno now,” exclaimed Captain Garcia. “I know him well.
He owns most of the steamship lines, and can help us by ordering his
agents to watch for this man when he buys his ticket. I shall speak to
him at once,” and he drew away from O’Neil and stepped quickly to the
side of the machine.
“Good-evening, Señor Mareno,” he said saluting him in military fashion.
“May I detain you but a moment?”
Mareno turned a startled face toward the naval officer.
“What do you want?” he questioned impatiently.
O’Neil saw at a glance that the meeting was inopportune for the
merchant. The sailor edged nearer, his curiosity aroused. An electric
street lamp above them threw their faces in shadow; but there was
something familiar in the figure sitting beside Mareno in the
automobile.
“Mr. Lazar,” he gasped beneath his breath; he reached out and took
Captain Garcia by the arm, almost roughly, and wheeled him about. The
next second the automobile had gone.
Captain Garcia turned on O’Neil, a world of surprise in his face.
“Why did you do that?” he exclaimed. “He surely could have helped us.”
The sailor looked about him hurriedly. So Lazar and Mareno were hiding
Craig. If they would find him they must follow the automobile; but how?
“The man with him was Ensign Lazar,” O’Neil explained to the amazed
captain. “If he recognizes me the game is up. How can we follow them?”
Captain Garcia was still more amazed at hearing this startling news.
Why was Señor Mareno with Mr. Lazar? What part had Señor Mareno in
the plot to convict his young friend, Midshipman Perry? And was he a
friend of the man who had sold the machine guns back to the rebels?
“Come,” he cried much aroused, “there’s an automobile standing on the
next corner, but I fear we can’t catch them; Señor Mareno’s machine is
the fastest in the city.”
As luck would have it they found a waiting machine, and jumping in
Captain Garcia hurriedly gave the order.
“Mariel road, quick,” he cried to the chauffeur.
In a minute they were speeding through the streets and out on the
lonely road to Mariel.
The quarry was not in sight; had they turned off on one of the many
cross streets? This was surely the direction they had taken.
They sped along, O’Neil pressing money into the hands of the chauffeur
to open wider his throttle.
“There they are,” O’Neil whispered triumphantly as a dark object came
in sight ahead. The pursuers were gaining slowly.
The machine ahead was slowing, and O’Neil whispered to their chauffeur
to go on by. They passed Mareno and Lazar as they were alighting from
the automobile and entering a large house by the roadside.
“Mareno’s country home,” whispered Captain Garcia as their machine
whizzed past.
“Then here we’ll find Craig,” replied O’Neil confidently, as he
directed the chauffeur to stop their machine.
Out of sight of the overtaken men they left their machine and went back
on foot. Reaching the house they saw Mareno’s automobile had drawn up
inside the yard and the chauffeur had already made himself comfortable
for a nap.
“They are inside,” O’Neil whispered, “and will be there some time, from
the looks of that man yonder,” pointing to the reclining figure. “We’ve
got to get inside.”
Captain Garcia hesitated.
“This man Mareno is powerful,” he objected. “I dare not force an
entrance into his house.”
They had approached the house from the rear. O’Neil pushed a door
gently; it yielded and the next moment they found themselves in a small
room.
The room was unlighted, but the fire on the hearth illuminated
obscurely their surroundings.
A native jumped up from a couch, rubbing his eyes; seeing the officers
he doffed his hat respectfully.
“Whom do you wish to see, señors?” he asked.
“We are friends of Señor Mareno, who is up-stairs, is he not? We shall
go up,” O’Neil answered quickly in a low voice.
The man seemed to hold no suspicions; he was glad to get back to his
interrupted nap.
“Very well, señors,” he answered.
The two men cautiously walked up the narrow stairs. Reaching the next
floor, they stopped, breathless, to listen.
A sound of voices came from a room in the front of the house.
Captain Garcia was worried. He did not relish his mission; there was
too much at stake for him if Mareno discovered that they had forced
an entrance into his house. In these countries it is but a step to a
prison cell and another to the execution wall where many men are put to
death daily during these revolutions. He was anxious to retrace his
steps, but O’Neil held him firmly by the arm.
The voices of Mareno and Lazar sounded distinctly; they were talking
in loud natural tones, so sure were they that they were alone in this
lonely house.
“I have changed the letter, Señor Mareno,” Lazar was saying; “here it
is: as it reads now your name does not appear and Midshipman Perry’s
name has been substituted. But you must make sure that the minister and
the president never meet, for they might discover the change in the
letter.”
“I have arranged that,” answered Mareno. “As soon as the fleet leaves,
which will be to-morrow, the president will telegraph to Washington for
the minister’s recall, giving the reason that he is unsatisfactory to
the government.”
“Good,” Lazar’s voice replied; “then you have nothing to fear, unless
General Ruiz might tell of your share in the rebellion.”
“Ah,” Mareno’s voice had a glad ring, “he knows nothing. Juarez
alone knew of my support, and he is dead; he was the agent in all my
transactions.”
“Very well; I shall deliver this letter in person at the palace this
evening,” Lazar said, “and then we must put this man on board the
steamer. I don’t believe he will live to reach Mexico.”
Captain Garcia knew nothing of the letter, but from the trend of the
conversation between the two conspirators he saw that the much trusted
Mareno had done something which Lazar was endeavoring to cover up for
him. He dared not ask O’Neil; even a whisper might be heard.
“What is the name of the steamer?” Lazar added. “It is now after
midnight. At what time will she sail?”
“It is the ‘Mercedes’; one of our own ships,” Mareno answered; “she is
scheduled to sail at daylight and her first port will be Vera Cruz,
Mexico; her captain need know nothing except that the sick man is to be
landed there.”
“Can’t she sail as soon as we get this man on board?” Lazar asked
eagerly. “I shall breathe freer when he is on the high seas. My
enemies have resources and the sooner we get this man away the less
danger there is for me. The court meets at eight o’clock, and without
this witness my friend Midshipman Perry must be convicted.”
[Illustration: _THE DOOR OF THE ROOM OPENED SUDDENLY_]
“That can be easily arranged,” Mareno agreed at once. “She has already
cleared the custom-house and can sail whenever I give the word.”
O’Neil glanced at Captain Garcia’s face. The light through the transom
of the room in which the conspirators were shone dimly on his strong
face. O’Neil was fairly startled at its expression. He feared that
upon hearing the course which his enemy would pursue, Garcia might act
precipitately, and spoil the plan.
“Come,” the sailor whispered, grasping the captain’s arm, “we must go.”
But the naval officer could not be moved. He reached in his pocket and
drew out a silver-mounted revolver, and took a step forward toward the
door of the room.
“You’ll spoil everything,” O’Neil whispered hoarsely.
The door of the room opened suddenly and a flood of light shone out in
the hallway. Lazar stood on the threshold, his face turned backward
over his shoulder; he was talking to Mareno behind him.
“Craig is up-stairs, is he not? I shall get him and join you
immediately,” he said.
O’Neil was terribly anxious. If their presence were discovered, the
conspirators would change their plans. The light seemed to fall
directly upon himself and Captain Garcia. How could Lazar fail to see
them?
Lazar passed the eavesdroppers so close that it seemed to O’Neil
detection was a certainty. What should he do? He dared not lift his
hand against his superior officer. His long training in the navy had
taught him what terrible consequences would be the result of such a
rash act. He held his breath tightly and drew Captain Garcia closer
against the wall. The door swung shut and the hall was again in partial
gloom. Lazar’s footfalls could be heard ascending the stairs.
“We’ve got to get out,” he breathed in relief as he half dragged his
companion down the steps.
They left the house by the way they had entered; this time they were
not observed, for the caretaker of the house was fast asleep.
Reaching their automobile they got in and waited for their enemies to
leave the house.
“What does it mean?” Captain Garcia asked excitedly. “What is this
letter?”
O’Neil explained how Mareno had informed the minister that Ruiz’s
attack would be on Tortuga Hill. How the midshipmen had discovered him
in the house of Juarez where the stolen arms were stored, and how the
minister had written a letter to General Barras telling from whom the
information came.
“A clever plot indeed,” cried Captain Garcia. “Mr. Lazar has changed
this letter clearing Señor Mareno and putting the guilt on Midshipman
Perry’s shoulders, and Señor Mareno has induced the president
meanwhile, before the arrival of the letter, to ask the Washington
government to recall the minister. My inclinations were as an officer
of our government to arrest Señor Mareno for treason.”
“That would have defeated us,” answered O’Neil. “They wouldn’t have
submitted without a fight and I couldn’t have raised my hand against
Ensign Lazar.”
“I can hardly believe that Señor Mareno is a rebel,” declared Captain
Garcia excitedly; “if so, why did he buy the ‘Aquadores’ for General
Barras’ government?”
“That’s easy to see now,” answered O’Neil with a superior smile;
“didn’t you say your executive officer was mutinous and your crew were
all green men?”
The naked truth dawned on the unsuspecting naval officer.
“You mean that Mareno believed that on our arrival in La Boca the
‘Aquadores’ would fly the rebel flag,” cried the naval officer, aghast
at the depth of the treason of which Mareno was the instigator.
“Certainly,” O’Neil replied; “he thought it was as good as buying her
for the rebels and a better and easier way. Even when you went after
the rebel ships at Rio Grande, he was sure you’d be licked, and before
he could get news of the fight he spread the report that she’d been
sunk.”
Captain Garcia was stunned at the extent of the conspiracy.
“Then I owe you and your companions much more than I dreamed,” he cried
putting his arm affectionately on O’Neil’s shoulder. “That explains
why their two vessels seemed so eager to give us battle. They thought
we would prove an easy victim.”
O’Neil nodded.
“But now, Captain Garcia,” he exclaimed earnestly, “you’ve got your
chance to repay us.”
“Myself and everything I can command are at your service,” the Spaniard
gratefully replied.
“Then here’s my plan,” O’Neil explained hurriedly: “they’ll put Craig
in that machine and take him to La Boca; then on board the ‘Mercedes,’
and we can’t stop them. She’ll get away and then we’ll follow her in
the ‘Aquadores’ and bring Craig back. Isn’t that easy? Will you do it?”
“Willingly,” the captain exclaimed delightedly. “You are a clever man
to have thought of this. Fortunately I have steam up in my vessel and
as soon as we get on board we can be under way.”
It seemed hours to the anxious men before Mareno’s machine moved
slowly up to the door; its headlight cutting through the darkness
illuminating brightly the courtyard in front of the house.
“They are going at last,” whispered O’Neil. “What time is it?”
Captain Garcia took out his watch and glanced at its face.
“It’s after two,” he answered; “they have been in there two hours.”
The automobile in front of the house moved swiftly toward them. As it
reached the machine in which our friends were awaiting it speeded up
and tore past them. O’Neil looked closely; the curtains were drawn, and
he could see nothing within.
“What does that mean?” questioned Captain Garcia in amazement. “They
are going to Mariel.”
“It means my plan is no good,” cried O’Neil despairingly. “Mareno has
had the ‘Mercedes’ sent to Mariel and they’ll put him on board her
there.”
“Quick, man,” cried Captain Garcia as he watched Señor Mareno’s machine
fade in the distance. “What shall we do?”
O’Neil was in deep thought. Did he dare attack these men and take Craig
forcibly away from them? It would mean a prison for him.
“Follow them,” he ordered sharply, “for all you’re worth. I’ll give you
ten pesos if you catch her before we get to Mariel,” he cried to the
chauffeur.
Their automobile bounded ahead and rushed along the dark road. Mile
after mile was eaten up by the steel monster. The anxious men peered
ahead hoping to see the dark form of Mareno’s machine, but the suburbs
of Mariel were reached and their enemies were still invisible.
“If we catch ’em,” rasped O’Neil, “we must seize Craig by force; it’s
our last chance.”
Captain Garcia was delighted. That had been his plan from the first.
“I’ll swing for it if Mr. Lazar recognizes me,” O’Neil muttered, “but
the fun’ll be worth it.”
The black smudge in the road ahead of them slowly took shape out of the
darkness. The anxious seekers breathed easier, as they looked to their
weapons.
“Bring her alongside,” O’Neil ordered the amazed chauffeur.
The man did not relish this hazardous undertaking on a rough and narrow
road, but the sight of the sailor’s revolver gave him the courage to
steer his machine abreast of the fleeing automobile ahead of them.
“Hold there!” Captain Garcia shouted firing his revolver to emphasize
his order; “we want to speak to you.”
The other machine immediately slowed and the two cars were soon
motionless side by side on the road.
It was but the work of a second for our two friends to leap out of
their car and throw back the curtains of the other car. O’Neil, with
his automobile goggles concealing the upper part of his face, advanced,
his revolver in front of him covering the occupants inside. Captain
Garcia covered with his revolver the trembling chauffeur.
“They are not here,” O’Neil gasped; “they have tricked us again.”
O’Neil was in despair. Captain Garcia’s watch showed it was nearly
three o’clock. Their enemies had surely gone to La Boca hours ago and
had used this automobile to delay them until they could get Craig
safely on board the ship and away from the harbor.
“They knew we had followed ’em,” O’Neil exclaimed. “That native wasn’t
as sleepy as we thought.”
In a second they were inside their machine and were speeding back along
the road.
Reaching the villa of Mareno, they alighted by mutual consent and
boldly entered the house by the rear door.
The native was dragged from his bed and under the terrifying influence
of a loaded revolver at his head confessed that Señor Mareno and two
companions had gone on foot nearly three hours ago, and that they had
been told of the presence in the house of the two naval officers.
“We can catch her yet,” Captain Garcia declared stoutly as they sped
back to La Boca.
In the course of what seemed ages to O’Neil, but was in reality but a
half hour, they were on board the “Aquadores.”
As the cruiser steamed out of the harbor, O’Neil heard with a sinking
heart the bells strike on the men-of-war at anchor. It was four o’clock
and the escaping vessel had over three hours start. He had lost. The
court would meet in four short hours and Midshipman Perry would be
adjudged guilty.
Swiftly the “Aquadores” steamed to the westward. Captain Garcia and
O’Neil on the forward bridge watched with failing hopes the gray of
dawn spread on the eastern horizon behind them. The sea in front was
unbroken. Their prize was not in sight.
Swiftly the cruiser plowed her way through the tranquil sea, but
swifter yet the hands of the clock moved around its fatal dial. The sun
appeared on the horizon out of a molten sea.
As the gloom slowly melted, the eager sailor, straining his eyes to
discover the vessel he hoped the increasing light would soon reveal,
sighted the black hull of a steamer but a few miles ahead.
“We’ve got her!” he cried joyously, then he turned with apprehension
and saw the hands of the clock stood at six. “Stop her with a shot!” he
pleaded. “We need every minute.”
Captain Garcia gave a hurried order and a six-inch shell soared in the
air, raising a column of water close to the merchantman.
“That did the business,” O’Neil exclaimed as the merchantman stopped
and ran up Verazalan colors at her gaff.
In a few minutes the “Aquadores” was hove to near the “Mercedes” and
Captain Garcia and O’Neil were quickly rowed to the intercepted vessel.
They climbed to the top of the sea ladder, where the merchant captain
met them.
“You have a sick man on board,” Captain Garcia began in a tone of
authority; “we want to take him back with us immediately. Do you
understand?”
The sailing master gave the naval men a look of inquiry and amazement.
“We have a man who is very ill; he was brought on board by Señor Mareno
just before we sailed,” he answered. “This is irregular,” he added,
more boldly.
“You are on the high seas,” Captain Garcia retorted savagely. “I alone
am responsible for my actions. Take me to this man.”
The merchantman was not in his employer’s secret, but he readily saw
that these officers were defeating his intentions. Fear of Mareno
made him hesitate. But he knew he was at their mercy; a glance at the
formidable cruiser close by assured him of that.
“Come with me,” he said gruffly, leading them to a stateroom on the
lower deck.
There O’Neil saw a sight that wrung his heart. Craig’s emaciated form
lay on the bed; his feverish eyes wide with a terrible fear as he
recognized the boatswain’s mate, in spite of his foreign uniform.
The petty officer walked over to his bedside and looked down at him
compassionately. He put his hand almost affectionately on his hot brow.
“You must come back with us, Craig,” he said determinedly; “you’ll not
be harmed. Don’t kick; we’ve just time to get back to clear Mr. Perry.”
The sick man cringed and turned white with terror. A fearful shaking
took hold of his thin form.
“I dare not,” he pleaded in a terrified whisper. “They’ll send me to a
penitentiary for my crimes.”
“Don’t take on so,” exclaimed O’Neil in exasperation, as he saw the
precious minutes slipping away. “A hospital is where they’ll send you.”
He beckoned to Captain Garcia and together they lifted the almost
exhausted man from his bed; he struggled feebly, but soon realized he
was only wasting his strength.
They carried him down into the boat and aboard the “Aquadores,” which
was soon heading at top speed back for La Boca.
O’Neil did his utmost to cheer the dejected machinist, who lay tossing
miserably, brooding over his imaginary troubles.
“You just tell the truth, Craig,” O’Neil counseled, “and you’ll not be
harmed. Mr. Lazar will not be in it if you tell your tale to the court.”
O’Neil saw with sinking hopes that it was eight o’clock; the court had
met and the “Aquadores” was nearly half an hour away. If she were too
late in bringing this important witness, none but the President of the
United States could grant a reprieve to the condemned midshipman.
“But do your best, Captain Garcia,” he urged. “If luck is with us we
may save him yet.”