The river is wide at Para, and there are always dozens of steamers and
trading vessels anchored off the city. This night was no exception.
There was a little group of vessels lying within hailing distance of the
motor boat. The one nearest, perhaps, was the steamer which Frank had
called the _Señorita_, not a large boat, but one having the appearance
of great speed.
There was little stir of life on the river, and Clay watched light after
light go out in the nearby craft with a sensation of loneliness. Now and
then, it is true, he could hear a voice coming over the water, but
usually the words spoken were in an unfamiliar tongue. The air was dry
and warm.
The moon, passing farther to the west, had encountered a bank of clouds,
and was visible only a part of the time. In these darker intervals,
whenever the listening boy heard the rattling of an oar it seemed to him
that the boat in which it swung was stealthily approaching the _Rambler_
with some sinister purpose in the hearts of those within her.
He knew that Frank was not asleep, for he could hear him tumbling about
in his bunk, and more than once he started up with the purpose of
calling to the lad and having the truth of the danger which hung over
him clearly defined, but each time he sat down again, reluctant to press
him on so delicate a subject. His idea was that, at sometime during the
night, something would occur which might give him an inkling of the
threatened danger.
Just before daylight, what he half feared, half hoped for, took place.
During a dark moment he heard the bunt, felt the jar, of a prow against
the side of the _Rambler_. He sat still and listened, his only motion
being that of an arm to bring his automatic revolver into position for
use.
Presently the light boat tipped a trifle to the east, as if some heavy
body or bodies were keeling her over by clinging to the railing which
ran around the deck. Whispered words in Spanish followed, and then the
soft pad of a naked foot on the planks.
Clay’s purpose in remaining inactive at this time and permitting the
intruders to gain the deck was to allow the invasion of the _Rambler_ to
proceed without interruption until the object of the visit was made
known by some unmistakable proceeding. For all he knew the object of the
intrusion might be larceny. In that case he did not wish to take a human
life, as he would be almost certain to do should he open fire with his
automatic revolver.
Presently the footsteps moved in the direction of the cabin door, which
was wide open. The bulk of the cabin could only be outlined in the
darkness, and the creeping figure could not be seen at all. The deck
seemed empty save for himself, only the soft pat-pat of naked feet
showing the presence of another.
The restless tumblings in the cabin had ceased, and Clay was under the
impression that Frank had dropped off into slumber, but in this he was
mistaken. He was already rising to his feet to switch on the light in
the cabin when another light shot out of the doorway like a bullet.
It proceeded from a powerful electric searchlight, held in Frank’s left
hand, and showed a weapon in the right. Straight out of the doorway it
flashed, bringing into the center of a white circle the dusky face and
evil eyes of a native Indian, such as Clay had observed on the streets
of Para that evening.
The Indian was crouching low, his shoulders hunched as if for a quick
spring, and a knife flashed back the light, a knife clutched in his
right hand, already half lifted. The object of the night visit was no
longer in doubt. Clay stepped forward, but quick as he was the Indian
was too active for him.
There was a sudden movement and a splash in the river. When they
cautiously peered over the railing of the deck, a second later, nothing
was to be seen in the water below. Even the boat in which the Indian had
reached the _Rambler_ had disappeared. Frank threw the rays of his light
far up arid down the current, but no bobbing head came within its
circle.
“It is of no use to look for him,” the boy said. “He can swim beneath
the surface as handily as on top.”
“But where is the boat?” asked Clay. “I distinctly heard one strike the
_Rambler_.”
“It was probably taken away at once,” answered Frank. “The Indian was to
do his work on board and take to the river. Lucky thing you were on
guard.”
“It strikes me,” Clay returned, “that I had very little to do with it.
You heard him at first?”
“Yes; I hadn’t been to sleep. I anticipated something of the sort. I
warned you to-night in order that you might be prepared for anything.
There was a short silence, during which both boys turned their heads
toward the _Señorita_, only a few rods away.
“I have a notion that we’ll hear something doing on board our honorable
escort, in a minute,” said Frank, lightly. “They’ll want to know why he
fell down on the pleasant task they set him.”
“You think he came from the steamer?”
“I have no doubt of it.”
They waited and listened a long time, but no sounds of any kind came
from the _Señorita_.
“They are too clever to permit him to return after a failure,” Frank
concluded. “Now you see what you’re up against,” he added. “Are you
ready to set me ashore in the morning?”
“Hardly,” smiled Clay. “We started out together, and we’ll stick
together, if I have my way about it. We’ll get our supplies in early and
be out of sight of Para long before night.”
“If I have my way about it,” Frank said, with an air of determination,
“you’ll leave me behind. It would be a poor return for all your kindness
if I should get you all murdered.”
“Promise me that you will make no attempt to leave us without my
consent.”
“But——”
“Will you promise?”
“Yes, but you don’t know what is ahead of you if I remain on the boat.
We are going into a wild and lawless country, and——”
“I understand. See! It is getting light in the east. There will be no
further trouble to-night, so we may as well go to bed.”
“I’m afraid I won’t be able to sleep,” suggested Frank.
“Then sit here and watch,” Clay advised, “and remember, old man, I hold
you to your promise!”
“You may trust me!”
The voice was low and steady, and Clay knew that the boy meant just what
he said, so he went off to bed and slept until nine o’clock. When he
came out on deck, rubbing his eyes, all the boys were there save Alex.
Case and Frank, mindful of Clay’s wish to get away as early as possible,
had attended to getting the supplies on board, and the _Rambler_ was
ready to set her nose against the streams leading to the Amazon. Clay
learned all this while preparing his breakfast.
“But where is Alex?” he asked.
“He is still on shore,” replied Case. “I told him not to go away, but he
rushed off when I was away. Now we’ll have to go into the city and get
him out of some scrape.”
“You are mild in your prophecy of evil this morning,” laughed Jule.
“Ordinarily you would have had him hung, drawn and quartered for trying
to rob a bank.”
Case hung his head and smiled at the reference to his failing.
“Well, he ought to be here,” he said.
“I should think you would go out of business as a prophet,” laughed
Jule. “All your prognostications fail. See! This one fails, for here
comes Alex now. What is that he is carrying?”
“Looks like a large Brazilian monkey,” replied Frank.
“And the kid has an escort, at that!” roared Jule. “Just see the mob
chasing after him!”
“That is a dog he has,” Case exclaimed, looking at the advancing boy
through a glass. “If it isn’t a half-grown, white bulldog. I’ll wash
dishes for a month. Must be heavy!”
“Well,” Clay grinned, “Alex is making a try for the running record, if
it is heavy. Look at him cover the ground!”
“Better say, ‘How that boy did run, than here he lies!’” hummed Jule.
“I guess he’s got good cause to run,” Clay observed. “Looks to me as if
that mob meant business. You don’t suppose he stole the dog, do you.
Case? Why doesn’t he put him down?”
“Just like him to steal a dog and get the boat held up here for a
month,” Case answered. “Then the rainy season will come on, and we’ll
not enjoy the trip at all.”
The boys all laughed heartily at this new manifestation of Alex’s
failing, and the boy turned away from them and jumped into the little
row-boat, now ready for the rescue, attached to the prow.
“Here!” shouted Jule, “don’t go off that way! I’m going with you. You
can’t fight that mess alone.”
But Case was pushing off, and the next instant was rowing with long,
steady strokes toward the pier down which Alex must pass to reach the
river front.
The next minute Frank, who had planned to go in the boat, was in the
water, headed in the same direction. The race on shore was now drawing
to a close.
Clay called out to Case not to leave the boat, but to hold it ready for
the pursued youngster to leap into, but this was unnecessary, as Alex
reached the end of the pier before the boat could be forced there. Frank
was swimming like a duck in the water, but was slowly being swept down
stream.
Alex turned for an instant and faced a collection of a score or more of
disreputable-looking men and boys who were dashing down the pier after
him. Then he lifted his face with a grin, gave out a long “Whoop” of
defiance and took to the river.
He still held the dog in his arms as he leaped, and, Alex being obliged
to loosen his hold in order to swim, that thoughtful animal immediately
clawed his way to the boy’s half submerged shoulders and set up a howl
which was as plainly a request for sympathy and assistance as could be
imagined.
“Hang to the pup!” called Jule.
But the dog, showing intelligence beyond his years, seemed to realize
the insecurity of his perch and sprang for the boat, now advancing
swiftly toward the swimmer. The mob on the pier drew up at the very edge
of the water and contented itself by showering both boy and dog with a
volley of broken bricks and clubs. Case caught the dog as it struck the
rim of the boat and drew it inside.
By this time Alex was within reaching distance, and was assisted in, his
clothing torn and dripping. Once in the boat, he turned toward his
pursuers, placed his thumb on the end of his nose, and swung his four
fingers derisively in the air.
“Come on in!” he shouted. “The water’s fine!”
A mixture of blackguard English, Spanish, and Indian, accompanied by
another volley of bricks was the only answer. Then, having expressed his
indifference to the attacks of the mob, Alex turned his attention to
Frank, who was soon drawn out of the water. The dog was the first one on
the deck of the _Rambler_.
“Start her up,” Alex grinned. “There’s more coming.”