Gutenberg · e01.org

← catalogue

The Hero of Panama: A Tale of the Great Canal

by F. S. Brereton · English · Gutenberg #41767 · 589,501 chars · public domain (US)

The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Hero of Panama: A Tale of the Great Canal
    
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online
at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States,
you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located
before using this eBook.

Title: The Hero of Panama: A Tale of the Great Canal

Author: F. S. Brereton

Illustrator: W. Rainey


        
Release date: January 3, 2013 [eBook #41767]
                Most recently updated: October 23, 2024

Language: English

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/41767

Credits: E-text prepared by sp1nd, Mary Meehan, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made available by Internet Archive (http://archive.org)


*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HERO OF PANAMA: A TALE OF THE GREAT CANAL ***

Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
      file which includes the original illustrations.
      See 41767-h.htm or 41767-h.zip:
      (https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/41767/pg41767-images.html)
      or
      (https://www.gutenberg.org/files/41767/41767-h.zip)


      Images of the original pages are available through
      Internet Archive. See
      http://archive.org/details/heroofpanamatale00breriala





THE HERO OF PANAMA

A Tale of the Great Canal

by

CAPTAIN F. S. BRERETON

Author of "Under the Chinese Dragon," "Tom Stapleton, the Boy
Scout," "The Great Aeroplane," "Indian and Scout," &c.

Illustrated by William Rainey, R.I.







Blackie and Son Limited
London Glasgow and Bombay
1912




[Illustration: JIM RESCUES PHINEAS BARTON]




Contents


     CHAP.                                              PAGE

        I. A POST OF RESPONSIBILITY                        9

       II. EN ROUTE FOR NEW YORK                          23

      III. JIM PARTINGTON SHOWS HIS METTLE                40

       IV. RELATING TO PHINEAS BARTON                     59

        V. THE WAYS OF THE STEAM DIGGER                   77

       VI. A SHOT IN THE DARK                             95

      VII. THE LAIR OF THE ROBBERS                        114

     VIII. IN HOT PURSUIT                                 133

       IX. JIM BECOMES A MECHANIC                         152

        X. RUNNING THE GAUNTLET                           171

       XI. BARELY ESCAPED                                 192

      XII. AN AMERICAN UNDERTAKING                        215

     XIII. HUSTLE THE ORDER OF THE DAY                    235

      XIV. THE RUNAWAY SPOIL TRAIN                        256

       XV. JAIME DE OTEROS FORMS PLANS                    276

      XVI. THE MAJOR FORMS HIS PARTIES                    297

     XVII. ON THE TRACK OF MISCREANTS                     317

    XVIII. RESCUE BY MOONLIGHT                            337

      XIX. JIM MEETS WITH A SURPRISE                      357

       XX. SUCCESS TO THE PANAMA CANAL                    375




Illustrations


                                                        Page

JIM RESCUES PHINEAS BARTON _Frontispiece_                 46

"STAND AWAY FROM THOSE BOATS"                             32

JIM IN A TIGHT CORNER                                    118

WAITING FOR THE ENEMY                                    150

ATTACKED BY NATIVES                                      212

"JIM TUGGED WITH ALL HIS MIGHT"                          262

THE RESCUE OF SADIE                                      338

"IT'S GEORGE, GEORGE COME BACK TO LIFE!"                 358




THE HERO OF PANAMA

[Illustration: The PANAMA CANAL]




CHAPTER I

A Post of Responsibility


It was one of those roasting days in the Caribbean, when, in spite of a
steady trade wind, the air felt absolutely motionless, and the sea took
on an oily surface from which the sun flashed in a thousand directions,
in rays that seemed to have been lent some added fierceness by the
reflection.

Squish! Squelsh! The ground surf, which was hardly perceptible from the
coast, and scarcely so from the deck of a liner, was apparent enough
from the old tub which wallowed in it. She rolled in a manner that was
sickening to behold, until at times her scupper ports took in water,
then a surge of the ocean would take her in a different direction; she
would dive forward, dipping her nose in the oily sea till the hawser
which had been passed out over her stern, secured to a large anchor,
brought her up with a jerk and tumbled her backwards with her stern rail
awash.

Ugh! It was enough to make a white man groan. Even a nigger would have
been inclined to grumble. But the Chinamen aboard the tub seemed, if
anything, rather to enjoy this rocking. One of them stood almost
amidships, his feet wide apart to preserve his balance, while he gripped
the handle of the pump he was working, and turned it over and over with
a monotonous regularity that seemed to match with his surroundings.

The man, who was barefooted, boasted of the very lightest of clothing,
and wore his pigtail rolled in a coil at the back of his head. Other
protection against the roasting sun he had none. Indeed, to look at him,
he hardly seemed to need it, while the hot blast which came from the
adjacent land passed over him without any apparent effect. Ching Hu was
in his element.

"Nicee place, missee," he sang out after a while. "Plenty nicee and
warmee. Stay long? No? Velly solly."

On he went, turning the handle without a pause, while there crept into
his slanting eyes just a trace of disappointment. He sighed ever so
gently, then assumed his accustomed expression. Not the wisest man in
all the world could have said whether Ching Hu were happy or otherwise.

Just about ten feet from him, sheltered beneath a narrow awning of dirty
canvas, a girl stood on the deck of the small ship, or, rather, she
occupied a projection which overhung the water. Had this vessel been a
liner, one would have guessed that this projection was the gangway from
which the ladder descended towards the water to enable passengers to
come aboard. But here a rapid inspection proved it to be merely a
platform built out from the side, and suspended some eight feet from the
surface of the ocean. From it a clear view of the ship's side was to be
obtained, and, in these wonderfully clear waters, of the sandy bottom of
the lagoon at whose entrance the vessel was moored. And it was upon the
latter, upon the bottom of this heaving ocean, that Sadie Partington's
eyes were directed.

"Ching," she called out suddenly, turning towards him, "I think they'll
be coming up right now. Call the boys."

"You sure, missee? Yes? Velly well."

Ching Hu raised his eyebrows quaintly as he asked the question, and on
receiving a nod from the girl, who at once turned to stare into the
water, he raised his voice and called aloud in a sing-song style which
would have made a stranger laugh. "Tom, Tom!" he shouted. "You comee now
wid Sam. Wanted plenty soon."

A black face popped instantly from the caboose leading to the cabin--a
big, round face, the face of a negro of some thirty years of age. Then
the shoulders came into view, and following them the whole figure of the
man. He stood for a moment or two on the topmost step, balancing himself
against the edge of the caboose, one hand gripping a plate, while the
other vigorously polished it with a cloth. It gave one an opportunity of
thoroughly inspecting this negro, and promptly one was filled with a
feeling of pleasure. It was not because Tom was handsome, for he was the
reverse of that. Nature had, indeed, liberally provided him with nose
and lips, so much so that those two portions of his physiognomy were
the most prominent at first sight. But if his nose were somewhat
flattened and decidedly wide, and his lips undoubtedly big and
prominent, Tom was possessed of other features which counterbalanced
these detractions. His eyes seemed to attract attention at once. They
seemed to smile at all and sundry on the instant, and flash a message to
them. They were shining, honest eyes, which looked as if they could do
nothing else but smile. Then the man's mouth completed his appearance of
joviality; between the lips a gleaming double row of ivories were always
to be seen, for Tom's smile was permanent. The smallest matter was
sufficient to increase it, when the negro's ample face would be divided
by a gaping chasm, a six-foot smile that could not be easily
banished--the prelude to a roar of mirth and of deep-toned, spontaneous
laughter. As for the rest of him, Tom was a monster. Six-feet-three in
height, he was broad and thickset, and beside the dainty figure of Sadie
Partington had the appearance of a veritable elephant.

"What you say, Chinaboy?" he asked, regarding the placid individual
working the pump. "Come plenty soon, eh?"

"Ye-e-s. Missee say now."

"Den dinner be spoiled for sure. Taters boiled to rags ef I wait little
minute. Stew no good ef left on fire for longer dan five minute. Missee,
what you say dey doin'? They ain't gwine ter move yet?"

"Call Sam; you know as well as I do that the stew won't be spoiled. Come
now, they're going to signal."

Sadie turned upon the negro with a frown, then again bent her eyes
towards the bottom of the sea; for the girl was always ill at ease when
the divers were working. Somehow or other, since her brothers had taken
to this particular profession--and she had accompanied them upon their
various trips--she had felt impelled to take upon herself the duty of
watching them at work. She was only eleven now, though tall and old for
her age, and for a year past she had almost daily taken her post on that
tiny gangway to watch the two figures moving in the water below. For
hours together she would be on the deck of this little boat, careless of
the sun and heat, superintending the action of the pump and waiting for
signals from the divers. And to Ching Hu, Tom, and the others her
veriest nod was law. It was useless to argue with her: Sadie had a way
of stamping her small foot which meant a great deal, and set all the men
running to do her bidding. It was, therefore, with some show of alacrity
that Tom prepared to follow his instructions.

"You Chinaboy," he commanded, grinning at a second Chinaman, who
occupied the little galley down below, "yo make sure not boil de taters
too much, and sniff dat stew. Not burn um, or, by de poker, Tom make yo
smile. Yo comprenez what I say? Eh?"

He grinned one of his most expansive grins, and the Chinaman responded
in a similar manner. He jerked his head in Tom's direction, thrusting it
out of the galley door as he did so, and sending his pigtail flying. His
little, pig-like eyes rolled while he brandished an enormous wooden
spoon. "Ling knowee eberyting," he lisped. "See to dinner fine. Hab de
stew beautiful."

"Den yo come along, yo Sam, lazy feller," shouted Tom at the pitch of
his voice. "Whar yo got to, boy? I gives yo de biggest--oh, so yo dare!"
he exclaimed, as a negro came from the after gangway, where a small
ladder led to some of the men's quarters. "Yo's been sleepin'."

Tom held out an accusing finger, and gripped his comrade by the bare
arm; for, without shadow of doubt, Sam's eyes were blinking. He had the
appearance of a man who has just awakened. But the negro shook his head
vigorously.

"Yo let go my arm, Tom, yo big elephant," he said, grinning widely.
"I'se been down b'low fetchin' a bucket o' coal. What yo want?"

"Missie dar order us both; de boys is comin' up."

Tom still gripped the second negro, and playfully lifted him from off
his feet as if he were merely a child, then he set him down against the
ship's rail, while the two at once stared into the water. Truly they
might have been described as brothers, so very alike were Tom and Sam in
appearance. In fact, had their two heads been alone protruding from a
window even Sadie would have been troubled to distinguish between them;
but the similarity ended with the faces. Tom was huge, Sam was barely
five feet in height, and slim in proportion; but he seemed to have
inherited all the dignity which Tom had missed. Merry enough at all
times, Sam was inclined to be a trifle pompous, and of a Sunday, when in
port, his get-up generally was sufficient to open the eyes of everyone
who beheld him. Now, however, his feet were bare, and he wore but a
shirt and loose cotton trousers.

Let us join them at the rail and stare over into the water. Beneath the
oily surface a wide stretch of yellowish-white sand was spread out on
every hand, till it became a greenish tinge, and was finally lost in the
blurr of the ocean; but directly beneath the ship it sparkled in the
sun, while one could easily see the tiniest prominence, the few rocks
existing here and there, and the deep shadow of the ship riding to her
anchors. A derrick was rigged out over the rail, close to the platform
occupied by Sadie, and from this was suspended a long wooden ladder,
with ponderous weights attached to its lower end. Close at hand, through
a sort of stirrup, passed a couple of ropes, while the piping conveying
air to those below ran out over the gangway. It was there, too, that the
smaller signal lines were attached.

As Tom and Sam looked over, their eyes caught the reflection from two
metal objects down below, and very soon the latter became apparent as
the helmets of the divers. They could see the two--for there were that
number at work--seated on a huge boulder, side by side, while within
some fifteen feet of them were the broken timbers and debris of what had
once upon a time been a vessel.

"They've sat like that this past fifteen minutes," explained Sadie.
"Seems that there's nothing to be found in the wreck. They'll be wanting
to be hauled aboard in a minute. There's George moving."

As she spoke, one of the helmets swung slowly backwards, while the eyes
inside peered aloft. Then there came a jerk at the life line. Sadie
instantly responded.

"Coming up," she said. "Get a hold of the tackle, boys."

She still kept her place, superintending operations, while Tom and Sam
together gripped the tackle, and, having pulled gently at first, began
to haul lustily. In a little while one of the divers had reached the
foot of the weighted ladder. At once the tackle was slacked off, while
all watched the man slowly ascending from the depths, dipping deeper as
the swell rolled the ship, and coming nearer the surface as she returned
to an even keel. Then, with a squelch, the top of the shining helmet
broke through the surface, the man reached the rail, and was lifted
aboard. Sadie proceeded at once to loosen the screws securing the helmet
to the rest of the dress, and lifted the huge metal globe from off the
shoulders of the seated man.

"What luck, George?" she asked impetuously, staring anxiously into his
face, and noticing how tired the man seemed, and how sallow he was. "You
found something? It's going to pay?"

"Not if we work a year at it," came the answer in a dull, despondent
tone of voice. "Help me to get this dress off, Sadie, my dear. I'm
burning in it. I've felt smothered, so hot that I couldn't work down
below. Jim's coming up at once."

The second diver was, in fact, already being hauled up, and anyone who
happened to have watched the first make his ascent from the depths would
at once have remarked the difference between the two. For the diver who
now sat on a box on the swaying deck of the small vessel was bigger
than he who was ascending; at the same time his movements had been far
less active. The one now nearing the top of the ladder clambered up the
rungs with the agility of a cat, in spite of the fact that every foot he
rose made the weights he carried on his back and chest and on his boots
all the heavier. His helmet shot out of the water with a burst, as the
vessel rolled heavily, pulling the ladder up, only to throw it back at
once.

"You hold on dar tight, yo, Massa Jim," shouted Tom, as he leaned over
the rail. "Yo tink dis all a beanfeast. Not so when de ship roll so
much. S'pose yo lose de hold. Buzz! Yo go right down to de bottom and
stay dere fer good. Huh! Come in."

He gripped the extended hand of the diver, hauled the boy aboard, and
promptly seated him on a second box. Three minutes later the helmet was
off, and one had an opportunity of contrasting the young fellow who had
appeared with the diver who had first of all ascended.

The latter was a young man of twenty-five perhaps, and, as we have said,
was decidedly sallow and unhealthy-looking; in fact, natural good looks
were marred not a little by his complexion. But with the one who had
been addressed as Jim it was different. The young fellow was barely
seventeen years of age, and his rosy cheeks displayed the fact that
diving did not disagree with him. Then, too, his voice was so different.
It was crisp and laughing, and anything but despondent; while, when he
had rid himself of his diving weights and of his heavy boots, and was
on his feet, one saw that he was of a good height, held himself well,
and moved with the quick step that one might have expected from having
seen him clamber from the depths of the ocean. But there was concern in
his face when Sadie called him.

"George don't feel over well, Jim," she called out. "He said a minute
back that he was burning hot; now he's downright shivering."

"Fever," said Jim promptly, taking his brother's hand. "Tom, there, just
leave Sam and Ching to haul in the tackle. I want you."

"Sah, what for? De master ill?"

Even his smile was almost gone as he looked at George with eyes which
were startled and wide open, for the happy-go-lucky Tom, so unused to
sorrow or sickness, could tell at a glance that his young employer was
anything but himself.

"Get along and fetch a bed on deck," commanded Jim; "then rig a shelter
over it. Best place it right aft; there's more room, and you'll be able
to pull the awnings over better. George'll stay on deck; it's too hot
down below."

Pulling his diving suit off hurriedly, he helped his sister to disrobe
the sick man; then, with Tom at George's head and Jim at his feet, they
carried him aft and laid him on the bed already prepared. Sadie at once
took her seat beside him, armed with a fan, while the negro, Tom,
hastened to fetch water from the big canvas sack in which it was placed
every day to cool. A strong dose of quinine was given to the sick man,
and thereafter there was little to do but to watch him and tend to his
immediate needs.

"We'll get up anchor and make right off for Colon," said Jim, as he
stood beside his sister, some little distance from the bed. "There's
nothing down there to salve, and we're wasting time and money. Better
get back and see if there isn't another job to be had. This salvage work
ain't paying us at all. We're losing heavily. Guess we'll have to get
back on to the land."

Even he was a little despondent as he spoke, for matters had indeed not
been going well for George, Jim, and Sadie. Americans born, one only of
the three could remember their mother; for she had died shortly after
Sadie's birth. But their father was a constant and pleasant memory to
them all, for he had been with them till six months previously. A diver
by profession, Mr. Silas Partington had managed to save a few dollars,
and had bought up a salvage plant, with which for a while he had done
excellent business. Then he had met with a grave misfortune. He and
those whom he employed had worked for weeks at the salving of a sunken
steamer, and had actually brought her to the surface and commenced to
tow her into shallow water, when an accident had happened. The bulkhead
which they had bolted across the huge rent made in the ship's side by a
collision that had sent her to the bottom had, for some unforeseen
reason, blown out. The air which had been forced into the vessel, and
which had expelled nearly all the water in her, thus bringing her to the
surface, had escaped at once, and down she had gone under the ocean; but
on that occasion she had found her bed in a deep hollow, where diving
was impossible.

"It just broke Father," said George, when describing the thing to Jim.
"He lost heavily. There were weeks of work paid for, besides valuable
plant lost. It brought him down to this."

"This" was the purchase of an old vessel, and the seeking of salvage
jobs along the Caribbean coast. Silas had brought his children with
him--George because he was already a partner, Jim and Sadie because he
could not afford to keep them on the mainland. The cruise along the
coast of Mexico had proved disastrous, for Silas had been blown
overboard during one of those terrible tornadoes which occasionally
sweep the gulf, and George was left to fend for the family--an
undertaking he found none too easy. Jobs were few and far between, and
that wretched Caribbean swell, together with a shifting, sandy bottom,
made salvage work extremely difficult. The coffers of the Partington
family were, indeed, already very empty, and the time was at hand when
the ship must be sold to pay wages. And now George was down with fever.

"It's this hole of a place," growled Jim, as he thought the matter out
that evening. "A man can't work off this fever-stricken coast and escape
it. We'll get back to America. Somehow or other we'll manage to get
work."

Early that evening George again was in a high, burning fever, and needed
careful watching; but as the night wore on he quietened down. During the
first hours of the morning the terrible burning again seized the sick
man, and in a moment, as it seemed, he awoke in a frenzy and leaped from
his bed. Dashing Jim aside as if he were a child, and knocking Sam to
the deck, he leaped over the rail and splashed into the water. In the
dim light they watched him striking out for the shore, and as they
followed in the dinghy they saw him clamber on to the mud banks and
enter the forest. But though Jim searched high and low, and lay off that
pestilential part for a solid week, often repeating his search in the
forest, there was never any trace of his brother. The sick man was
utterly swallowed up by the jungle.

"Dead?" asked Sadie sorrowfully, her young cheeks hollowed by the
trouble.

Jim nodded. "Sure," he said, with emphasis. "Dropped in some corner and
never rose again. There's no manner of use searching further. Sadie
dear, we've got to get ashore and set up somewhere for ourselves. I've
got to be father and brother and everything to you."

That, indeed, was the position of affairs. Sadie was too young to look
to her own fortunes, while Jim was none too old. But an American lad can
make as good a struggle as anyone: Jim swore that he would. He had long
since tried to remember friends of his father's, but had given the
matter up as hopeless. There were only Ching, Tom, and Sam, all three of
whom had been employed on the salvage plant, and were old servants.

"Too poor to help us, anyway," he thought. "They'll easily get
employment, and will go their own way. I'll have to hunt out a job in
New York. I'll take anything that'll give me enough to feed and give a
roof to Sadie. Besides, there's the boat; there'll be a little left for
her when all the wages are paid."

"And I ain't gwine ter be dismissed, not nohow," said Tom, when Jim told
the jolly negro of his plans. "Me and Sam and Ching's been doin' a jaw.
We're a-goin' to hold on to you and missie. We're all a-goin' ter get
work together till you've made a pile fer yerself and can give us
employment. Yo ain't no right ter order us away."

Thus it happened that Jim, having sold the boat and effects at Colon,
went aboard a coaster bound for New York, Sadie and Tom and Sam, with
the Chinaman, accompanying him.

"There's five hundred dollars in this bag," he told his sister. "That'll
keep the wolf away till we've had time to look round. Don't you fear,
Sadie; we'll land upon something good yet, and, who knows, one of these
days, perhaps, I'll make that pile that Tom's always talking about. But
guess it'll want a heap of doing."




CHAPTER II

En route for New York


"Wanted, hands to help in building construction down town, New York."

The advertisement caught Jim's eye as soon as he looked at the newspaper
which happened to be aboard the coaster on which he and Sadie and the
others were voyaging to New York, and fascinated him.

"See here, Sadie," he said. "It'll be just the thing. There must be
heaps of jobs which I could do, even though I have no knowledge of
building. Carrying bricks and so on, you know. There will be good wages,
and the money will keep us going while I look round. Eh?"

"And perhaps there'll be a firm working in the docks round New York,"
ventured the wise Sadie. "Then you'd be able to get a job at diving. I
shouldn't mind there; it isn't as dangerous. This building work would
give Tom and Sam and Ching jobs too."

"Sure!" exclaimed Jim, beginning at once to feel less despondent. Not
that this young American was apt to be downcast for long. But we must
tell the whole truth concerning him. The heavy responsibilities so
suddenly cast upon his shoulders, and the persistent ill fortune of the
family, had somewhat upset his nerves, and robbed him of a little of
his accustomed jollity. Still, with five hundred dollars behind him, and
this advertisement before his eyes, he felt that the far future might be
left to take care of itself; for the immediate prospects were
brightening.

"We'll take the job, the whole lot of us," he said, as they sat on the
deck in the dusk discussing matters. "We'll take a little tenement down
in the working quarters. You'll housekeep, Sadie, and we four will go
and earn dollars. Gee! There's no frightening me. This thing was
beginning to get on top of me, and bear me down; but now, not a bit of
it. I'll win out; one of these days I'll own a salvage plant of my own."

It is better to face difficulties brightly and with full courage than
tackle them half-heartedly. Jim felt all the stronger for his courage,
and paced the deck alone that night with hopes raised, and with full
assurance for the future.

"I'll get a widow woman, or someone respectable like that, to come and
help Sadie keep house," he said to himself. "It'll be company for her
while I'm away. And of course there's her education: she'll have to have
more schooling. We've rather forgotten that she's still only a child,
for she behaves as if she were grown up."

That was, indeed, one of the pathetic items in the history of Jim's
family. His father, Silas, had been pressed as it were into a course of
action which meant a sudden cessation of all home life for Sadie, and
which brought the child amongst grown-up men when she should have been
at school, with some of her own sex about her, and playmates to romp
with. Circumstances had, in fact, acted adversely both for Silas and
his daughter.

"But we'll alter all that," Jim told himself. "Heigho! I'm for turning
in."

He paced the deck once or twice more, then crept down the companion. He
was nearing the bottom, when his progress was suddenly arrested by a
shout.

"What's that?" he wondered. "Came from right forward."

Curiosity caused him to run nimbly up the steps again. His head was just
emerging from the opening when the shout was repeated, while it was
taken up instantly by men above his head, on the bridge of the ship. At
the same moment there came the tinkle of the engine telegraph.

"Port! Port your helm! Hard a port!" he heard the lookout shout from his
post on the forecastle. "Ship ahead! Port your helm!"

"Hard astern, Mr. Dingle! hard astern!" came in steady but sharp tones
from the bridge, then there followed once more the tinkle of the
telegraph. Jim felt the tremble and throb of the engines suddenly die
down; indistinct shouts came to him from somewhere in the interior of
the coaster. Then the engine throbs recurred furiously, as if the ship
were making a frantic effort. Crash!

He was thrown hard against the combing of the gangway, his head striking
the woodwork heavily, so that he was partially stunned. That and the
succeeding jar, as the coaster came end on into the bows of another
steamer, toppled Jim over. He lost his foothold, and rolled down the
steps into the gangway down below. Then he picked himself up, feeling
dazed and giddy, and for a moment held tight to a pillar supporting the
deck.

"A collision," he told himself. "A bad one too--full tilt into one
another. It's shaken the electric light out. Lucky they keep an
emergency oil lamp going."

The temptation to dash up on deck was strong within him, and had he been
alone on the vessel, with none to care for, no doubt he would have
obeyed the inclination. But there was Sadie; Jim was her protector. He
dashed at once towards her cabin, and came upon her at the doorway,
looking frightened.

"There's been a collision, Sadie, dear," he said, endeavouring to keep
his voice quiet. "Guess we may have to move; let me come in and fix
you."

The child was not undressed, fortunately, and Jim at once pushed into
the cabin, groped for one of the cork life preservers which are placed
in overhead racks, and adjusted it to her body.

"Now," he said, "bring a warm coat, and leave the other things. Ah,
here's Tom!"

"Sah; me here, right enough. You's not hurt, nor missie?"

"Not a scratch, Tom. Just take Sadie right up on deck and stand beside
her. That Sam?"

In the dusk outside there was a second figure, and behind that another.
The faithful negroes, and Ching Hu, the Chinaman, had rallied at once to
their youthful master.

"Me, in course," cried the little Sam. "Guess this here's a collision.
But we ain't got no cause to mind; not at all, not at all, missie."

"Get life belts, put them on, and then go on deck," said Jim shortly.
"Sadie, take charge of this bag of dollars. I'm going up to see what's
happened."

Conscious that he had done all that was possible, and that Sadie was now
in excellent hands, he turned and made for the companion, directing Tom
to take the whole party on deck, and wait for him near the companion.
With a few active steps he was there himself, and able to look about
him. There was a slight sea fog enveloping the ship, through which, a
hundred yards away, shone the lights of a steamer. Shouts came from her
deck, while her siren was blowing frantically. On board the craft on
which he himself stood there was also considerable noise and confusion.
A couple of lights were swaying right forward, and running there Jim saw
that a man was being slung over the bows in a rope's end. Right aft,
where were quarters for steerage passengers, there was the sound of many
voices, shouts, and hoarse cries of alarm, and once the shrill shriek of
a woman.

"How'd it happen?" he asked one of the deck hands standing near him.

"How do most of these here things happen, siree?" came the answer. "This
here fog did it. The lookouts war bright enough; but reckon the two
ships jest bumped clean into the same course, and didn't see one another
till their bows was touchin'. We're holed badly, I'm thinking. You take
my advice, and get hold of your traps."

Jim leaned over the rail, and stared at the man swinging in the rope's
end. The lantern he carried showed a huge rent in the bows of the ship,
while the sound of rushing water came to his ears.

"Six feet by five, down under the water line, mostly," came from the
man. "You'd better be slinging me over a sailcloth or something, or else
the water'll fill her."

"They'll never do it," thought Jim, staring at the rent. "I've been
enough on board ships to know what this means. I'll get back and see
that Sadie's safe."

He ran back to the companion, where he discovered his friends seated on
the hatchway.

"Tom," he said, "come along below with me. We shall have to take to the
boats, and the sooner we've food with us the better. Lead along to the
galley."

"Purser's store, sah; I knows very well. You say we gwine ter leave de
ship."

"She's holed badly; she's bound to founder, I guess."

"Den de Lor' help us!" groaned Tom. "You listen here, sah. Forty
Spaniard workmen living aft. Dey play de dickens. Dey fight for de
boats. Not like dat at all. Tom say dat dere be trouble."

The mention of the men who had taken passage aft caused Jim some amount
of perturbation. He had noticed them as he came aboard, and it was
because of their presence on the ship that he had taken passage for
himself and Sadie amidships.

"I'd have gone steerage with her had it not been for those dagoes," he
had told himself. "There's little enough money to spare nowadays for
luxuries; but they're a rough crowd, and I wouldn't like Sadie to be
amongst them."

It had followed that he and Sadie had taken berths amidships, while Tom
and Sam and Ching had, as a natural course, got places aft. Jim
realized, now that Tom reminded him of the fact, that the Spaniards on
the ship might prove a greater danger to them than the foundering of the
vessel.

"Guess they're a rough crowd, and likely to lose their heads," he said
aloud. "Let's get some food quick, Tom, and then see what's happening.
We'll keep close together."

They ran along the alley way towards the purser's store, and, finding
the door closed, Tom burst it in with a mighty heave from his shoulder.
Jim snatched one of the hanging oil lanterns, and together they made a
hurried survey of the contents.

"Here's a sack; hold it open, Tom," commanded Jim.

He ran his eyes round the shelves, then, without hesitation, pitched
tins of preserved beef, of milk, and of other foodstuffs into the sack.
In little more than a minute it was full to the neck.

"Get ahead," said Jim promptly. "I'll bring along this cask."

He stuffed a metal cup into one pocket, and hoisted a small cask of beer
on to his shoulder. Had he been able to make a careful selection he
would have sought for water; but in an emergency beer would do as well
as anything, and already he knew that time was very limited. Indeed the
ship had already a bad list on her; she leaned so much to one side that
walking was difficult, while she was down at the head so that his return
to the companion was made uphill. But in a little while the two arrived,
panting, at the top of the companion, Tom bearing the lantern with him.

"Holy poker! but dere's the duce of a row aft, massa," sang out Sam,
seeing them arrive. "I tink dem men is trying to put out de boats."

"How many are there?" asked Jim quickly.

"Seven, I tink. One just here; the others aft. Not like de noise dem
scum make."

Jim had never been aboard a vessel under similar circumstances, and had
therefore never experienced the confusion which follows a collision. He
had read of such affairs, and had marvelled at the wonderful coolness
and discipline maintained in some cases. Then he had heard of very
opposite results, where men had lost their heads, and where they had
fought, each for his own individual safety, as if they were wild beasts.
Remembering the class of individual who had taken passage aboard this
coaster, he could not help but wonder whether discipline would be
maintained on this occasion. The shouts, the babel of sounds coming from
the stern, seemed to indicate the opposite.

"See here, Tom," he said, when he had listened for a while. "You and
Ching will stay right here by this boat, taking care of Sadie. Just give
a look to the tackle, swing her out, and put all the grub on board. Best
put Sadie there also. Sam and I'll get along right now to see what's
being done. The captain maybe'll want some help. Those fellows along
there appear to be fighting like demons."

"Den you git along, sah. Me and Sadie'll be all right. Ching Hu, yo
Chinaboy, jest you hoist dat cask aboard, and mind yo don't let um
tumble."

That was the best of the huge negro; he could be depended upon to keep
his head, while his devotion to Sadie was without question. Jim felt no
qualms as to his sister's security as he dashed forward again, Sam close
at his heels. A minute later he met a little group coming towards him
swiftly. It was the captain of the vessel, with his two officers, and
some half-dozen men.

"It's a case with us," Jim heard him say as the group came to a halt.

"She'll be down in half an hour, and that don't give us too much time to
get ready. Mr. Jarvis, jest hop down to the engine room and tell 'em all
to come up. Quartermaster, guess you'd best make a round of all the
cabins; there's time for that, and we want to see that no one's left.
You others had best come along with me: we've got to fix those fellows
aft. They tell me they're fighting like rats to get the boats out. We'll
have to stop 'em. Glad I am there's so few women aboard. What about the
young lady amidships?"

"She's safe, Captain," broke in Jim at once. "I've put her in charge of
one of my negroes and the Chinaman. She's been placed in the boat by the
companion, and we've got food and drink there also. I'm ready to come
along and help you aft."

There was a lantern swinging in the captain's hand. He lifted it coolly,
for there was no trace of flurry about this solid-looking man, and
closely scrutinized Jim's features.

"Gee!" he exclaimed, reaching out to shake his hand. "You're the sort of
chap a skipper's glad to know. You've seen to the safety of the sister,
as is only right, and now you come along shoulder to shoulder with us.
Guess there'll be bad trouble back there."

"Guess there will," answered Jim. "They're fighting, if one can judge by
the noise."

"Jest like tigers, and they'll take some quelling. Look here; get a hold
of anything handy and don't stand no nonsense. We can't afford to take
lip from any of those Spaniards. Ef a man shows a knife, lay him flat on
the deck. Come along."

He led the way swiftly along the deck, and the handful of men with him
followed closely, picking up any likely weapon as they went. Jim
possessed himself of an axe handle. It was long, and moderately heavy,
while sufficiently tough to withstand any blow. He swung it up over his
shoulder and took his place beside the captain and his mate. In a minute
they had arrived at the rail from which one overlooked the small waist
of the vessel, where the steerage passengers were accommodated. An oil
lamp hung from the boom, which was housed in its crutches over the
waist, and the feeble rays served to show what was happening. There were
a couple of boats on either side of the deck, and about these a seething
mass of men fought. Without knowledge of the sea, having no idea how to
swing the boats out, and no order or method, the result of the frantic
efforts of these foreign workmen had been disastrous in one case at
least. One of the boats hung suspended from the tackles, while its stern
washed in the water below, spars and oars and sails having been tumbled
out of it. The other three still hung in their davits, and had been
hoisted by the tackles from the crutches placed between their keels and
the decks. As the captain and his men arrived, some of the men below
were tugging at the tackles, while others were cutting the canvas
covers of the boats adrift with their knives. In one corner of the waist
of the ship three women were huddled, two men being engaged in a
desperate fight within three feet of them.

"Down below there!" bellowed the captain. "Stand away from those boats."

[Illustration: "STAND AWAY FROM THOSE BOATS"]

He might have spoken to a party of dead men for all the effect his words
had. The frantic individuals down below seemed not to have heard them.
They still went on with the work of preparing the boats, though it was
clear to everyone that, what with their eagerness and their utter
selfishness, the hoisting out, if left to them, would end only in
disaster.

"Down below there, you dogs!" shouted the captain. "Stand away there!
Fall in in the centre of the deck."

He repeated his words in Spanish, for a skipper who sails those seas
soon acquires a considerable vocabulary; but his orders fell upon deaf
ears only, and all the while time was flying, the ship was settling, the
moment when she would founder was drawing dangerously nearer.

"Guess we've got to fix 'em in our own way," said the captain, turning
on his little party. "See here, we'll get down this port ladder, beat
the men back from the two boats there, and then tackle the others. Jest
keep close together, and ef there's opposition don't be too gentle. This
ain't the time for gentleness; they'll understand hard knocks when there
ain't anything else that'll knock sense into their silly heads."

He led the way promptly, looking in the feeble rays of his own lantern,
and that suspended from the boom, a regular commander. With his
clear-cut but anxious features, his peaked beard and short moustaches,
this skipper gave one the impression of power, of coolness, and of
courage. Indeed he was just the sort of man required in such an
emergency, for he inspired his followers with confidence, and took his
post at their head as a matter of course. The mate slid down the ladder
immediately on his heels and Jim took the whole flight in one bound.

"Now," said the captain.

"Lummy! Dis someting like, dis am," murmured Sam, his eager little face
looking up into Jim's. The diminutive negro had armed himself with an
enormous stake which he had discovered in some odd corner, and he
flourished it. There was a little grin on his face, while his sharp
teeth flashed. In fact, in one brief moment, the negro, who had always
worked so well and so quietly, who had never displayed any pugnacity or
traces of excitement, had become an altered individual. There was a
something about him which seemed to say that fighting was a pursuit
which pleased him, that he was longing for the fray. But by now the
whole party was gathered in the waist. The captain led them to the port
boats, flinging aside all who stood in his path. In fact, to clear the
Spaniards into the centre of the deck was no difficult matter. They were
so absorbed in their task that they were taken by surprise. But a moment
or two later, when they found a group of resolute-looking men lined up
between them and the boats, which seemed to be their only hope of
safety, the frantic people became furious and desperate.

"Two of you men just see that the tackles are free and all ready for
hoisting," said the captain, his eye on the passengers. "We've got
trouble to meet here, and when it's over we shall want to get the boats
out precious slippy. Ah, you would, would you?"

In the short space of time which had elapsed since he had come to the
waist the fury of the Spaniards had risen perceptibly. It wanted only a
maddened leader now to turn the whole pack upon the captain and his men;
and, in a trice, the man made his appearance. A huge fellow, with
glittering ear-rings, whipped something from his belt and snarled at the
captain. Then, with a shout as if he were a maddened beast, he dashed
forward, a huge dagger held before him.

"I've got more of that for the likes of you," said the captain, stepping
swiftly forward and meeting the man with a terrific blow from his fist.
Indeed the Spaniard turned a half-somersault, and landed with a thud on
the deck. But his mates were too desperate to notice his discomfiture;
they came at the little band in a mob, and in a moment Jim and his
comrades were fully engaged. A little active man bent low and ran in at
our hero, while the latter caught the glint of something bright in his
hand. Crash! The staff with which he had provided himself fell on the
Spaniard's head and sent him sprawling. Bang! Sam's ponderous weapon
missed the mark at which it was aimed and struck the deck heavily. Next
instant the negro was locked in the arms of one of the attackers and was
rolling with him on the decks.

But Jim had no time to watch him, nor opportunity of assisting, for the
horde of men threw themselves on him and his comrades furiously. One
managed to come to close quarters with him and struck with his knife;
but the blade did not reach his person. A quick leap to one side saved
him. Then the staff swung downwards and the man collapsed.

"A rare blow, lad. A rare one!" shouted the captain. "Boys, we'll be
moving forward."

But the command was easier to give than to obey. Not all the efforts of
the little party could make an impression. It seemed as if the captain
would be defeated in his efforts to control the boats. But suddenly
others arrived on the scene. It was the engine hands, headed by an
enormous negro. Was it wonderful that Tom should itch to join in the
fray? He had seen his mistress into a place of safety and had left Ching
to guard her. Then, realizing that instant victory in this struggle
could alone save everyone on board, he had led the engineering staff
down the companion.

"By de poker! not stand quiet and 'low boats to be hoisted out," he
bellowed, forcing his way to the front. "Not 'bey de captain and help
when de ship sinkin'. By de poker, but dis not go on! Yo, what yo
doin'?"

He seized a man who rushed at him, as if he were merely a child, twisted
him round till his feet were in the air, and threw him back at his
comrades. Then, smiling all the while, he rushed at the attackers,
regardless of their knives, striking them down in all directions.

"Hooray! Now, boys," shouted the captain, "that darkie's done it for us
fine. Beat 'em back; there's still time to mend matters."

Bunched together, and led by Tom, the little party threw themselves upon
the Spaniards, striking right and left remorselessly. And in the space
of a few seconds they had borne them back as far as the bulkhead, above
which was the poop.

"If some of you men don't drop those knives precious quick I'll know
why," commanded the skipper.

"By de poker--yes! Tom know why, yo bet!"

The huge negro strode in front of all, his big fists doubled, his head
thrust forward as if he were a bull about to charge. His eye fell upon
the rascal who had begun the attack, and who, meanwhile, had recovered
his senses. There was a dagger in the villain's hand, and Tom did not
fail to see it. In a trice he had pounced upon the man.

"What yo not obey for?" he demanded wrathfully. "Yo not hear de cap'n
say yo to drop all knives? By de poker, but in two seconds yo sorry yo
ever born! Yo drop that knife."

There was no disobeying such an order. Tom seized the Spaniard, gripped
him with both powerful hands, and shook him till the man's head
threatened to fall from his shoulders. Then he turned and grinned at the
captain.

"Ready now to do as yo order, Cap'n," he smiled. "S'pose yo say fall in
half here and half dere, get ready to haul on tackle. Dey ready to do as
yo say."

"George, you're a real treasure! You're a brave man, Tom. Jest get 'em
ranged up in order, and quick with it. Young sir, I'll be obliged ef
you'll help him."

He nodded to Jim, left three of the men to stand by him, and at once
turned to the boats. As for the Spaniards, Tom's huge frame and the
prowess he had already displayed seemed to cow them. They obeyed his
orders with alacrity, and were soon ranged up in two lines. By then
their aid was wanted.

"Yo jest get to dem tackles yo in dat row," commanded Tom. "Haul when
you told. If one ob yo try to get into de boats before I say yo can, me
carve yo into little pieces--so."

He brandished an enormous knife, which he had picked up from the deck,
and showed his teeth. The result might have been anticipated, for the
passengers who had been fighting like a pack of beasts but a few moments
before were absolutely cowed. They would rather face drowning than the
anger of this terrible negro. It followed, therefore, that, now that
they were helping in the task, the boats were swiftly swung out.

"Put the women aboard this one," said the captain. "We'll lower them
with the boat. The others can go down by a rope ladder; it's smooth,
thank goodness, or things would be worse. Now, lads, quick with it; she
won't swim much longer."

Riot and fury had now been replaced by order and calm method. One by one
the boats were lowered, passengers entered, and a crew was placed
aboard. Moreover the purser and his men found time to make a raid on the
stores, so that each boat was victualled. As for Sadie, she and Ching
sat in the boat lowered from amidships, and waited anxiously for her
brother and the others. Presently they came, the captain being the last
to step over the rail. By then the decks forward were awash, while the
stern of the vessel was pitched high in the air. Her propeller was
plainly visible, lifted clear of the water.

"She'll plunge in a few moments. Best get clear away," said the captain.
"The other ship, I hear, is foundering also. We'll have to stand by till
morning. Is everyone with us?"

The answer had hardly left the mate's lips when there came a cry from
Sadie. Her finger shot out, and in a moment all saw the object which had
attracted her attention. It was the figure of a man standing on the
sinking steamer. Instantly a groan escaped the captain.

"Couldn't risk going back for him," he said; "he must swim for it."

"But he's disabled; he's the man with a broken arm," sang out Jim. "He
couldn't swim if you paid him to."

"Can't help it; I've the boat's crew to think of," declared the captain,
shaking his head sadly. "That ship's on the point of diving; we're too
close as it is. If I go nearer we risk the lives of all, your sister's
into the bargain."

"A fact," cried the mate emphatically. "The skipper's saying only what's
true."

"Ah! I thought she was going then!" shouted one of the crew aboard the
boat, seeing the steamer lurch suddenly. "'Tain't more'n a matter of
seconds."

"Then I'll chance being in time; I'm going for him."

Jim tore off his coat, and kicked his shoes away. Before they realized
his intentions he had stepped on to the gunwale, and had plunged head
foremost into the sea.




CHAPTER III

Jim Partington shows his Mettle


"Come back, lad," shouted the captain, as Jim's heels disappeared
beneath the surface of the ocean. Then he rose quickly to his feet, and,
gripping the gunwale of the rocking boat with both hands, he stared
through the gloom at the sinking ship, and at the solitary figure now
clinging to the rail amidships. Indeed the unhappy individual who had
been accidentally left on the foundering vessel showed that he was in
almost as frantic a condition as had been the Spanish workmen, when
fighting in the waist for possession of the boats. He was waving the one
arm which was uninjured vigorously, and as Jim set out in his direction
he was seen to throw one leg over the rail, to clamber with difficulty
upon it, then to sit there holding desperately, and looking as though
every movement of the ship would cast him into the water.

"She's a going! Gee! did yer see her lurch then? My, I thought she was
under!"

The deck hand who had shouted the words threw up his hands in the
direction of the steamer, and turned a pair of startled, staring eyes
upon her. There was good reason for his alarming observation, for at
that moment the foundering vessel rolled heavily from side to side, as
if she found her position irksome. Then she dipped her nose still deeper
into the ocean, kicking her stern clear of the water till ten feet of
her dripping keel were visible, and until her decks were at such a steep
angle that none but an acrobat could have retained his position on them.
Indeed the unfortunate individual clinging to the rail was swung from
his insecure seat, and, falling backwards, crashed on to the deck and
slithered down it till one of the bridge pillars arrested his progress.

"Holy poker, but dat near shave, I guess! Massa Jim, what yo doin' dat
for? Yo's mad! Yo's goin' to drown yo'self!" shouted Tom, rising to his
feet so rapidly that his huge bulk set the ship's boat rocking
dangerously.

"Drown himself! He's jest committing suicide! I tell you, he's bound to
go under," growled the captain, who, if the truth had only been known,
felt himself so strongly impelled to leap into the sea and help in this
foolhardy but gallant effort at rescue that it was only by exercising
the greatest self-control that he was able to hold himself in check.

"If I wasn't skipper I'd do it," he cried. "But it would be a fool's
game. Besides, I've got to remember that I'm in charge of this
expedition."

Meanwhile Jim's head had burst from the surface of the water, and the
plucky lad was forcing his way towards the sinking vessel with powerful
strokes. He gave no heed to the shouts and calls of those behind him,
not even when Sadie, beside herself with anxiety, rose from her seat in
the stern of the boat and shrieked to him to return instantly.

"I'll do it, or go under," he told himself grimly. "A sinking ship ain't
going to frighten me. Guess a chap couldn't float out there in safety
and see a man drowned before his eyes, especially a man that's unable to
fend for himself."

Though the water dripped into his eyes from his hair, and made seeing
difficult, he, too, had observed the terrific lurch which the foundering
vessel had just given; and if he had had any doubts as to her true
condition they were instantly set aside by the mass of her stern
elevated in such an ungainly manner into the air.

"Aboard there!" he shouted; "jump over into the water. She is going
down."

Thanks to an oil lantern which still hung amidships, below the bridge,
he could see the man for whose rescue he was striving, and as he thrust
his way strenuously through the water he watched the injured passenger
pick himself up on hand and knees and struggle towards the rail. He
wedged his feet against a stanchion supporting the latter, and as Jim
arrived within a few yards of the vessel, the man was again endeavouring
to clamber over the rail.

Then there came, of a sudden, another sluggish lurch. The ship appeared
to shiver throughout her framework, and rolled heavily from side to
side. A moment later her bows rose rapidly from the ocean in which they
had been submerged, while the stern regained almost its normal position.
It looked, in fact, as if she were making one last gallant effort to
float upon the surface. But again she rolled heavily from side to side,
till her decks were slanting at a sickening angle, greater indeed than
that to which Jim and his mates had become accustomed when cruising to
the south along the Caribbean coast.

"By de power, but dat terrific, dat 'nough to shake de life out of
anybody," muttered Tom, whose eyes all this while had been staring into
the gloom, endeavouring to follow every movement of his young American
master. Indeed, so acute was the vision of the dusky giant that details
were visible to him, and to Sam, his diminutive brother, which others
aboard the boat had no idea of. "Lummy, but Tom not like to see dat ship
shake herself so! She go down with a bust in one little moment, and
den--and den, what happen to Massa Jim?"

The very thought of the disaster which would follow drove the negro into
a condition almost of frenzy. His eyes bulged from their sockets and
looked as though they would tumble from his head. A whimper from Sadie
set Tom's honest heart throbbing and palpitating. It was real pain to
the fine fellow to know that his little mistress was in trouble. That
and his own courageous, impetuous nature made it impossible to stay any
longer inactive in the boat. Every muscle in his body trembled, while
his breath came quick and deep.

"I's goin' ter help!" he shouted. "Nebber yo fear, missie; soon hab
Massa Jim back safe and sound."

With that he floundered overboard, causing the boat to rock once more
till her gunwale dipped beneath the oily surface of the ocean, a mass of
water flooding the interior instantly. His head had hardly bobbed up in
view again when there came a sudden exclamation from Sam, and a moment
later the little fellow had slipped away to help his dusky brother in
his gallant task.

"Jemima! But if that don't take it!" bellowed one of the crew of the
boat, looking himself as if he were about to follow. "Every mother's son
of 'em'll go down. That ship'll suck 'em under sure. Ain't we going
nearer?"

In his eagerness he seized an oar, banged it into the rowlock, and
proceeded to bear upon it; but a stern order from the captain at once
arrested the movement.

"Belay there!" he cried sharply. "I ain't going to risk the lives of all
aboard for those in the water. We're too close to that ship by a long
way, much too close to my liking. Drop another oar in there, Macdougal,
and pull us away a bit. Harvey, jest get to at bailing; she's taken a
bit of water aboard. Miss Sadie, it's the right thing we're doing. It'll
help them best in the end."

But there was mutiny in the eye of Macdougal. In the excitement of the
moment the eager fellow could not in his own mind differentiate between
the safety of those aboard the boat and those who had plunged into the
water.

"What's that?" he growled. "Go farther away! Desert them as is wanting
our help! Wall, if I ain't jiggered! We calls ourselves white men,
and----"

"Stop!" commanded the skipper sternly. "Get down on that seat and pull,
Macdougal. You're a fool, I'm thinking. Jest remember that I'm your
skipper still, and taking orders from no one. I'm working in the
interest of all."

"Aye, aye, sir. Macdougal, get to at it!" growled the mate, scowling at
the sailor, and clenching a pair of brawny fists. Not that this officer
was really angry with Macdougal. In his heart of hearts he rather
admired the man; but discipline was discipline, and the skipper had many
a time proved his own courage and discretion. Still, even his persuasion
did not make of the sailor a willing man; for the moment Macdougal was
obedient, though mutiny and smouldering anger flashed from his eyes.

Meanwhile the sinking vessel had displayed another series of erratic
movements. That sickening roll from side to side had been replaced by a
gentle pitching fore and aft, and as the seconds fled swiftly by, the
pitching had become slowly and almost imperceptibly greater. Then,
suddenly, the vessel tossed her bows into the air till her watermarks
were visible to those swimming in the ocean. But it was only for a
little while. The bows came down again with a heave, which sent her
forecastle beneath the surface, till she looked as though she were in
the act of plunging to the bottom. Up she came again, displacing a huge
mass of water, and raising a wave which spread quickly across the sea
till it reached the boat hovering at a distance and rocked it. She
canted heavily to port, showing the whole of her length of deck, and
with such a violent movement that the passenger aboard was flung clear
of the rail right out into the water. Then souse went her bows once
more, raising the stern like a pinnacle into the gloom which surrounded
everything.

"Yo grip him and get away back, quick as yo can," bellowed Tom, his
mouth almost submerged, his powerful arms bearing him swiftly to help
in the rescue. "I's close behind yo, Massa Jim."

But he might have shouted to a log of wood for all the use his words
were. Jim heard not a syllable of his warning, for his eyes and all his
attention were fixed upon the injured man who had been thrown from the
vessel. He reached him in the course of a few seconds, and turning him
upon his back supported his head.

"I'm fine," he heard the man say faintly. "This arm of mine don't give
me no more than a dog's chance of swimming. You clear off, young chap.
You've the right stuff in you, there ain't a doubt; but I'm fine. Don't
you get worrying."

The last words were almost cut off by water lapping into his mouth. The
huge wave raised by the sudden lifting of the vessel caught them both,
and for a moment the two were hidden from sight by a mass of surging
green foam. Jim kicked frantically, bearing himself and the man to the
surface. Something struck hard against his chest, and, gripping at it
with the one hand he had free, he swiftly realized that fortune had been
good to him, for it was a buoy, cast loose by the injured passenger
himself but a little while before, and now swept to hand at a most
opportune moment. He looped his arm over it, and, slipping the other
deeper down, hugged the man closer, drawing his head well up on to his
own shoulder.

It was as well that he had made this hasty preparation, for, of a
sudden, the ship beside which they floated soused her bows deep again,
and slid farther beneath the surface. She seemed to hesitate, to make
one other effort. There came a loud explosion, accompanied by the sound
of splintering and rending wood. Air gushed from a mighty aperture which
had made its appearance at the point where but a little while before the
Spanish passengers had been fighting so frantically; then she plunged to
her bed in the ocean. Swift as a dart she shot beneath the surface,
leaving in her wake a swirling whirlpool, a twisting vortex into which
everything--splinters of wood, spars, and human beings--were sucked with
alarming swiftness, and with such force that none could resist it. So it
happened that Jim and the passenger once more disappeared from the ken
of those who were watching so eagerly.

How frantically Jim kicked; how desperately he clung to the buoy and to
the man at whose rescue he aimed. The swirling water bearing them both
down beneath the surface of the Caribbean in the wake of the vessel
almost tore them apart in the course of that desperate struggle.

At one moment the pull on the buoy was so intense that he felt as if his
arm would be dragged from its socket. An instant later a recoil of the
waters swept it back against his face with such violence that his jaw
was all but broken.

"Done for," he thought. "I can't stand much more of this. My lungs are
bursting, my head feels as if it will explode."

The sound of seething, gushing water deafened him at first, but when he
had been a little while immersed the thunderous notes, so distressing a
moment ago, seemed to become lessened in intensity. The buzzing was
now, if anything, rather pleasant, while his mind, acutely active but a
second before, became blissfully content, as if absorbed in paying
attention to that curious singing in his ears. But if he himself were
unconscious of other things, nature still urged him to struggle on for
existence. Jim had no idea of the frantic kicks he gave, of the grim
force with which he clung to the man and to the buoy. Then something
revived his senses and caused his wandering wits to take notice of his
surroundings. A breeze blew in his face, while someone shouted in his
ear. He opened his eyes, and in the gloom that pervaded everything made
out the grinning features of Tom.

"Yo's dere, den; yo's safe," he heard the negro exclaim. "By lummy, but
dat extra near squeak, so I tell yo! Let go ob de man. Me take him for
de moment. Yo puffed, blowin' like an engine."

Jim was exhausted; his breath was coming in quick, painful gasps. He
could not spare any for an answer, and, indeed, had so little strength
left in him that he did not even resent Tom's movement to take the
injured passenger from his care. Instead, he clung to the buoy, fighting
for air, wondering vaguely exactly what had happened.

"Yo hang dere quiet and easy," said Tom, one hand on the buoy and his
muscular arm about the half-drowned man. "Yo puffin' like a grampus now,
but in a little bit yo be better, not make such a noise, have plenty
strength again. Den take de man and swim back with him. Tom only come to
look on and see dat all well."

It was like the gallant fellow to make light of his own adventure, to
stand aside now that he was sure that Jim was safe, so as not to rob him
of the honour which would follow. Tom was indeed a very honest negro, a
man with a wide, big heart, which held a large corner for Jim and his
sister. He grinned in Jim's face, then suddenly turned and looked over
his shoulder.

"By de poker, but here someone else!" he muttered. "Who dar? We's safe
and sound. Yo hab no cause to worry."

"And I ain't worryin'," came a well-known voice through the darkness. "I
comed along here jest to see what's happenin'. Is Massa Jim right and
well?"

A growl burst from Tom's lips as he recognized the voice, and at once he
turned a pair of blazing eyes upon the culprit who had dared to follow
him.

"Dat yo, Sam?" he demanded. "Den what fo yo dare to leave de missie? Yo
get back right now, or by de poker, me knock you into twenty cocked hat!
What fo yo jump overboard and risk gettin' drowned?"

The question brought a gurgle from the jolly little Sam. He laughed
outright beneath the nose of the irate Tom, and, reaching the buoy,
clung to it for a moment or so before he deigned to reply.

"Yo's one great big donkey, yo am, Tom," he roared, shaking with
laughter. "Yo tinks yo de only man allowed to jump into de water; but
dat not so. De young massa place yo in charge of de missie, and yo no
right to leave. Me knows dat; me comes along right out here to haul yo
back. Yo one great big blackguard."

To the astonishment of Tom and Jim the little fellow burst into violent
sobs, though his words had conveyed anything but an idea of sorrow. Sam
shook from the top of his woolly head to his shoeless toes, and set the
buoy rocking. Big tears coursed down his cheeks, though the water
dripping from his hair almost cloaked them, and when he tried to speak
again he gulped at the words and failed to express them. It was, in
fact, a strange if comical procedure, and for the moment Jim's muddled
condition did not help him to arrive at the meaning. But he grasped the
truth a moment later, for Tom helped him.

"Yo--yo one little rascal, yo!" he heard the huge fellow exclaim, though
there was no anger in his voice, no resentment for the words which Sam
had hurled at him. Rather there was a strange trembling which denoted
friendly feeling, accompanied by a sudden gripping of hands between the
two darkies which seemed to say that they were perfectly agreed. Then
Jim gathered the full meaning of Sam's tears, of Tom's magnanimous
action. It was joy for his, Jim's, safety that had set Sam howling, and
the tears coursing down his cheeks. It was that same feeling which
induced Tom to overlook the high-flown language of his small brother and
grip his hand so warmly.

"You're just two great grown-up babies," he laughed across at them. "You
seem to imagine that no one can do anything without you, that I'm like a
piece of china, liable to break on the smallest occasion. See here, Tom
and Sam, shake hands. Guess you're both of you white right away through
from head to toe. I owe you both a heap for coming out after me; but
mind what I've said--I ain't a piece of china. Guess I'm old enough and
ugly enough to look after myself."

Tom grinned back at his young master and hung to the buoy for a while,
still clinging to the hand he had offered. Then he dropped it, moved to
the farther side, as if to place himself in a position of safety, and
presently made his reply.

"Sah," he said, "p'raps you old enough, as yo say, p'raps no. Ugly
'nough: yes, I tink so. Yo's ugly 'nough to do one ob de stupidest tings
as ever I seed. What fo yo jump into de sea like dat and swim toward a
ship dat was sinking? S'pose she drag yo down? S'pose yo neber come up
agin. Who den take care of missie?"

Even behind his fun there was a deal of truth. Who indeed would be left
to care for the sister? But Jim had come up again, and, feeling better,
he promptly made his presence felt.

"Jest swim back quick," he commanded Sam, "and tell 'em we're all right.
Tell 'em to come along. We'll hang to the buoy. Now, Tom, set to
splashing with your legs. There'll be sharks about here, and they're
extra fond of darkies."

Tom paled for a moment under his dark skin and looked the reverse of
comfortable. Then he laughed uproariously, shouted to Sam to hurry his
departure, and promptly did as Jim had ordered. For it was as well to be
cautious: both knew that sharks abounded in that corner of the Caribbean
Sea, and some of the brutes might very well be in the vicinity. They
kicked continuously, therefore, till the boat came up with a rush, and
they and the injured man were lifted aboard.

"Young man, you can jest give me a grip of yer hand," cried the skipper
of the foundered vessel when all were safely in the boat, stretching
across to the triumphant Jim. "I guessed when you came up alongside us
on the ship, telling me that you had fixed matters for your sister, and
were ready to help us out with the trouble those Spaniards were giving,
that you had got stuff behind you--the right sort of stuff, too. Then
you tackled the hounds in proper style, so that I knew I had a man with
me; a man, siree, not jest a boy. But this last thing's better than all.
Guess this gentleman owes you a life. Guess he'll be for ever in your
debt. Young man, I'm pleased to have met you."

It was a glowing tribute to our hero's courage, and he went crimson from
the top of his dripping head to his stockinged toes as he listened to
the words. Not that anyone could tell, for the gloom shrouded
everything. However, Sadie, sitting beside him, clinging to his arm as
if loath to part again with her protector, guessed his pleasure, while
her own courageous little heart felt as if it would burst with pride.

"I'm glad you did it, Jim," she whispered, "though I was terrified. And
Tom and Sam were really brave; they are so devoted. Can you believe, I
had the greatest difficulty to keep Ching with me? He hates swimming, as
you know, but he was very nearly following."

"Brave, honest fellows!" answered Jim with a gulp, for such devotion
touched him. "They are, indeed, true friends to us."

However, he had no time for further conversation; for now that the
captain had given his decision on events so recent, the mate and crew of
the boat were determined to make their own voices heard.

"A right proper thing to have done: wish you was my own son," declared
the former. "Shake, young man. It's a treat to meet one who's a true
American."

"One of the very right sort," growled Macdougal, still trembling with
excitement. "See here, young feller, I've nigh lost a job through you. I
was for kicking up a rumpus direct against the old man's orders. Chief,
I'm main sorry for them words and looks; but there's a time when a man
has to kick. I thought you was funking."

"Funking!" exploded the mate, though the captain sat rigidly in his
place, making no response. "Him funking! The man you and I have sailed
with these past three years and never known to fail us. You guessed that
the chief who led us against those Spaniards was funking! Gee! I've a
mind to smash your head in with this oar."

There was real anger in the voice. The mate was furious, and his huge
doubled fists showed that he was ready for anything; but the skipper
quickly quietened him.

"Belay there, Mr. Jarvis," he said in his ordinary tones. "Macdougal's a
fool, as I've already told him; and if he never knew it before he does
now. I'm not afraid of anyone's criticisms. There's a motto I'm always a
believer in. It runs: 'By their works shalt thou know them'. Guess I've
never done a thing to allow any man to think I was funking. Macdougal
was too excited to be responsible for his thoughts; it's just the man's
bluntness which has made him tell us so honestly. But take the lesson to
heart, Macdougal; keep a clear, steady head always and it'll carry you
through heaps of difficulties. Watch the men you work with, and get to
know all about them: moments of excitement aren't the times for coming
to conclusions. Now let's get on to other matters. How's that
gentleman?"

"Fine," came in shaky tones from the bows of the boat in which the
rescued passenger had been laid. "Guess I know everything. I've been
lying here these last few minutes wondering whether I was alive or dead,
and what had been happening. Is that the skipper?"

"It is, sir."

"Then allow me to say that you've as fine a crew as ever I set eyes on.
It wasn't their fault that I was left aboard the ship. The collision
knocked me silly, and guess I lay away there on the decks out of sight;
but I never reckoned you'd have men aboard ready to take such risks to
rescue a passenger. That young chap who swam out for me wellnigh went
down with the vessel. I held my breath as we went under till I thought I
should bust. And all the time I could feel him holding tighter to me and
kicking. Gee, he's a full-blooded lad! He's got pluck if you like. And
those coloured men come close after him. When I'm feeling better, guess
I'd like to take a grip of their hands."

It was evident that he considered Jim to be one of the crew, and his
gallant action undertaken in the course of duty; but the captain
undeceived him.

"That young chap's a passenger like yourself, sir," he said. "And the
darkies are ditto. I allow that you have every reason to want to thank
them; you owe them your life. But let us see to the other vessel; this
affair has taken her wellnigh out of my head."

The oars were dipped in the water, and the boat was slowly rowed in the
direction of the twinkling lights which showed the position of the other
steamer. She had sheered off to some distance, but as the boat
approached her it became clear that her condition was not so desperate
as had been imagined.

"She's listing badly to port and is down at the head. You can tell that
easily," declared the experienced captain. "We'll row right alongside
and I'll go aboard. You come too, Mr. Jarvis, and we'll take that young
man there."

He motioned to Jim, and, having put his helm over, so directing the boat
alongside the steamer, he called to one of the hands in the bows to hold
to the companion ladder which had been dropped over her side. Casting
his eyes about him, Jim was able to pierce the gloom to some extent, and
became aware of the fact that a number of small boats were also lying
off the vessel. In fact there were at least seven of them. Another
remarkable fact was the silence which pervaded everything. A little
while before there had been a deal of shouting, and some amount of
confusion, no doubt; but now everything was orderly.

"Fine discipline," remarked the skipper. "The chief of this boat got his
passengers away first of all, and then set to work to repair damages.
Guess he hadn't mad Spaniards to fight. Come along, please."

He scrambled on to the companion and ran nimbly up the steps. A tall man
met him when he reached the deck, and introduced himself as the captain.

"You're chief of the ship that's foundered?" he asked.

"I am," came the rejoinder. "We were badly holed, and there wasn't a
chance from the very first. Then we had a horde of mad Spaniards to
fight: the hounds lost their heads and struggled for the boats. After
that we found, when it was too late to go near the ship, that one
passenger had been left aboard; but we saved him, thanks to the pluck of
a passenger. Now, sir, I'm sorry for this collision. We'll not discuss
it now; the courts ashore will deal with the evidence. I've come along
to see how you fared."

"And thanks for the kind thought, sir," came the answer. "Reckon the
question of who's to blame can be dealt with as you say. I congratulate
you on the way you managed to come out of a difficulty. I'd have sent
along; but then, you see, I wasn't sure that we weren't foundering too.
There's a hole as big as three rum casks punched in our bows, and you
can see that we've shipped no end of water; but our water-tight
bulkheads were closed right away and that's saved us. We've the
carpenters at work this instant, and as soon as they've plugged the gap
with planks and oakum we'll be able to put matters a little more
shipshape. Our pumps are just holding the water now; when the gap is
plugged we shall gain on it. I reckon to have my passengers aboard in
half an hour; you'll bring yours along, and welcome."

Half an hour later, in fact, found Jim and his friends, together with
all the passengers and crew of the sunken steamer, aboard; while some
twenty-four hours later the port of Colon had been reached.

"And here we have to start right off again," said Jim, discussing
affairs with his sister. "That five hundred dollars will have to be
drawn upon for clothes and other things, seeing that we lost everything
with the ship. It'll mean I shall have to be quicker in getting a job
when we reach New York. But don't you fear, Sadie; somehow I've a notion
that our fortune is about to improve. Things are looking brighter."

They watched the steamer slowly berthed, and then made for the gangway.
Bidding farewell to the skipper and the crew, with whom they had become
most friendly, they were about to make their way ashore when the man
whom Jim had rescued accosted them.

"I've fixed rooms for you all," he said. "You'll not disappoint me, will
you? I've a house away up on the hill, and there's heaps of room."

"But--but we're going on direct for New York," cried Jim, astonished at
the proposal.

"No doubt, sir; no doubt. But then there don't happen to be a steamer
for a week, and Colon's a bad place to rest in. You'll oblige me by
coming. I ain't had a chance, so far, of thanking you and the others for
what you did. You'll surely give me a chance to get to know you better.
Come and stay for a week till the steamer puts into port."

It may be imagined that Jim eagerly accepted the invitation, and,
accompanied by Sadie, Tom, Sam, and Ching, took up his quarters with
this new friend. Not for a moment did he guess that this week's delay
would make a vast change in his future. His eye at the moment was fixed
on New York, where he hoped to make that fortune of which he had
laughingly spoken. He never imagined for one instant that the Isthmus of
Panama would detain him, and that there he would join his compatriots,
the Americans, and with them would take his share in that gigantic
undertaking, the Panama Canal.




CHAPTER IV

Relating to Phineas Barton


Phineas B. Barton was in his own way an extremely pleasant and jolly
man, but he required a great deal of knowing. He was moderately tall,
clean shaven, as is the typical American of to-day, fairly good-looking,
and about forty years of age. When he liked he could be voluble enough,
but as a general rule his conversation was chiefly noteworthy by its
absence; for Phineas was undoubtedly prone to silence and taciturnity.

"It's like this," he explained to Jim; "I'm boss at the present time of
the foreign labour we employ on the Panama Canal works, and guess I have
to talk most all the day when I'm at work. So a fellow gets used to
keeping his mouth shut at other times, so as to rest his jaw. Glad
you're coming out to my quarters."

He had thanked Jim quietly and with apparently little feeling for his
action in plunging into the sea to save him when the steamer foundered,
and after that had said not a word. But that did not imply that Phineas
was ungrateful. It was not in his nature to employ many words; he had
decided to show his gratitude in other ways. It was for that reason, no
doubt, that he had invited our hero to his house. And, now that the
whole party had disembarked, he proceeded to lead the way.

"Got any traps?" he asked.

"Not a stick," Jim answered. "We're here as we stand up."

"Then transport isn't a difficulty. It's nine miles to my quarters, and
the railway will take us there quick. There's cars going one way or the
other most always; come along to the terminus."

Jim and his comrades had no idea of the work which was going on on this
narrow isthmus of Panama, therefore the reader may imagine that he was
intensely surprised, once he and his friends had left the one-storied
dwellings of Colon, to find human beings seething everywhere. Bands of
labourers of every colour were working along the route where the canal
would open into the Caribbean, while heavy smoke and the rattle of
machinery came from another spot farther on.

"Where we're getting to work to cut our locks," explained Phineas,
nursing his broken arm. "It's there that I broke this arm of mine two
weeks ago. I was fool enough to get in the way of a dirt train, and of
course, not having eyes itself, it shunted me off the track with a bang.
That's why I was on my way back to the States; but guess that holiday'll
have to wait. I'm keen to get back to work."

From the open car in which the party was accommodated he pointed out the
various features of the isthmus, and in particular the works of the
canal. And gradually Jim gathered the fact that this undertaking upon
which his country had set its heart was gigantic, to say the least of
it.

"No one knows what we're doing save those who've been here," said
Phineas, a note of pride in his voice. "Back home there's folks ready
enough to criticize and shout that things aren't being done right; but
they ought to come right out here before opening their mouths. You've
got an idea of the canal, of course?"

Jim reddened. To be truthful, his own struggle to make a way in this
world had occupied most of his attention. He was naturally interested in
all that concerned his own country, but even though so near to the
isthmus he had never been farther than Colon when the ship put into
port, and whilst there had merely observed rather a large number of
policemen, both white and black. Of the huge army of workmen engaged in
the canal enterprise he had not caught a glimpse.

"It's an eye-opener, this," he admitted. "I had no idea there were so
many men, or so much machinery, though if I had thought for a little I
could have guessed that there must be a bustle. As to the scheme of the
canal, I haven't more than the vaguest idea."

"And I can't give you much information here. We'll want to get aboard an
inspection car and run right through. That'll be a job for to-morrow.
We'll have the inspector's car, and run along to the other side. But,
see here, this canal's the biggest thing in canals that's ever been
thought of. The Suez Canal don't hold a candle to it. The Kiel Canal is
an infant when compared with what this will be when it's finished.
There's fifty miles, or thereabouts, of solid dirt between Colon and
Panama, and America has decided to get to at that dirt and cut a way
clear through it, a way not only big enough to take ships of to-day,
but to take ships of to-morrow, ships that'll make the world open its
eyes and exclaim."

The very mention of the work made Jim gasp. He asked for particulars
promptly. "It'll take a heap of time, I expect," he said. "Reckon a
canal a mile long and fifty feet wide by thirty deep isn't dug in a
day."

"Nor hardly in a year. But we're not digging all the way," explained
Phineas. "America has selected what is known as the high-level canal;
that is, she's not just digging a track clear through from Atlantic to
Pacific, a tide-level canal as you might call it, for there are
difficulties against such a scheme. To begin with, there's a tide to be
reckoned with at Panama, while this Atlantic end has none; which means
your water level at the Pacific side is different from that at the
Atlantic. Then there's river water to be contended with. This isthmus
gets a full share of rain, particularly near the Atlantic, and the
rivers get packed with water in a matter of a few hours. Well, you've
got to do something, or that flood will swamp your canal, wash away your
works, and do other damage."

"Then the high level has fewer difficulties?" asked Jim.

"You may say so, though the job is big enough in all conscience. Shortly
put, it's this. We begin the canal by dredging in Limon Bay, right here
beside Colon, and cut our dirt away, in all for a matter of just over
seven miles. Then we build three tiers of double locks, which will take
any vessel, and which will float them up in steps to the 85-foot level.
Once up there the ship steams into a huge lake where there's dry land
to-day. We get that lake by damming the Chagres River right there before
us, at Gatun, throwing the water back into a long natural hollow, and
when the work is finished we shall have a body of water there
four-fifths the size of Lake Geneva. Anyway, it'll allow a steamer to
get along under her own power till she arrives at the other end of the
lake at Obispo. Even then she uses her own power, though she has to slow
down. She enters what we call the Culebra cut, just nine miles long,
where we are burrowing our way through the hills. That's one of the
biggest of our jobs. You'll be interested when you see it. We've a small
army of men at work, and rock drills and steam shovels are going all
day, while dirt trains travel to and fro more often than electrics in
the New York subway. Then comes a lock at Pedro Miguel, and another at
Milaflores, which let our ships down to Pacific level. Way down at that
end we've a lot of dredging to do to clear the below-sea track of the
canal."

Indeed it was no wonder that Phineas found it a matter of impossibility
to describe the gigantic, herculean task which America has undertaken.
Moreover, it may be forgiven our hero if he failed, in such a short
space of time, fully to comprehend what was being done. A canal was
being fashioned, that he knew well enough, and now Phineas had given him
a rough idea of its direction, and of the methods to be employed to
obtain a waterway from one ocean to the other. The rest had necessarily
to be left to the imagination, and to the moment when clear plans of the
works could be studied.

"But you know a bit about it, and that's good for the present," said
Phineas. "I'm not going to give you a bad headache right off by throwing
more particulars at you, though I fancy you'd be interested to know just
one or two items."

"And those?" asked Jim, by no means bored with the description. In fact,
like any healthy youngster, he was intensely interested in this canal,
and was burning with impatience to see all the machinery employed, the
methods used by the engineers and their staff to bring about the various
works. "I'd give something to see the lake," he admitted. "Almost as big
as that of Geneva? Gee! That's a whopper."

"You may say so," agreed Phineas, again a tinge of pride in his voice.
"There'll be somewhere about 160 square miles of water in that lake, and
a fleet will be able to lie to in it. Those locks at Gatun, which are to
be double--one for steamers going up, and the other for ships coming
down--will each give a usable length of 1100 feet, which is a good 300
feet longer than any ship yet afloat. They'll be 110 feet wide, and have
a minimum depth of 41 feet. Put that all together, and remember that
when the gates of the locks are shut, and water allowed to come down,
the biggest battleship yet heard of will be lifted solid just about 32
feet, and then warped on into another lock as like the last as two peas.
In less than an hour we'll raise a ship up to our high-level canal from
the Atlantic, and we'll do it, sir, as easy as you lift rowing boats
down on the rivers."

Phineas went hot at the thought of the undertaking, and, looking at him,
Jim could see that the man was filled with a huge pride, with a
tremendous fixity of purpose, the courage and tenacity to push on with a
labour which his country had begun, and which the honour of the nation
demanded should be brought to a satisfactory conclusion. And in a little
while Jim understood that there was not a white employee engaged on the
isthmus who did not dream of the day when the canal would be opened,
when their own countrymen, some of whom at this moment were ready to
discount their labours, would be amongst the keenest admirers of the
finished task.

"But guess it's time we thought of the house," said Phineas, dragging
his attention away from the works before him. "I've a shanty way up the
hill there, with a housekeeper to look to it for me. She'll take care of
Miss Sadie."

They descended from the car and slowly trudged up the hill. Then Phineas
gave them a welcome to his home.

"Looks cool and nice; don't it?" he remarked, as they ascended a flight
of steps leading on to a wide veranda. "I can see you looking at my
windows, young man. Well, we don't have any out here. A chap gets to
live without them easily enough. There's just copper gauze right round
the veranda, and the same over the window openings. Most days it's so
hot one doesn't think of their absence. And if a cold spell comes, one
can easily put on something warmer. Now we'll get along in and feed. Ha,
Mrs. Jones, that's you again! You didn't think to see me back so soon,
till I telephoned from Colon. This is Miss Sadie, and this is Jim, the
young man who rescued me. We're just hungry, so we'll come right in if
things are ready, and Tom here, and Sam, and Ching can get round to the
kitchen. You'll find 'em useful boys."

The widow who looked to Phineas's affairs was a pleasant woman, and gave
our hero and his sister a real welcome. As to the negroes, though she
looked at them askance at first, she rapidly found them a blessing. For
Tom installed himself as butler unasked, while Sam carried dishes to and
fro. Ching settled down to the work of washing up the things as if he
had been brought to the isthmus for that very purpose.

"All of which just makes things slide along as if they were oiled," said
Phineas with a glad smile, as he lolled on his veranda afterwards.

"See here, Jim, them boys of yours can go along helping Mrs. Jones while
you're here; but of course, if they were at work on the canal, they
would have their own quarters along with the other coloured men. Pity
you're not staying. Where do you go after New York?"

It was a leading question, and Jim explained his position frankly.

"I don't complain," he said, "but we certainly have had our share of ill
fortune. First Father lost his money, then his life. Afterwards my
brother went off his head with fever, and was lost in the forest way
down there below Colon. I've got to find work other than diving."

"You've done a bit of that, then?" asked Phineas.

Jim nodded. "A lot," he said. "But I'm not really skilled."

"You've handled tools and machinery?"

"Many a time; Father made me learn from the very beginning."

"See here!" cried Phineas suddenly; "you're after a job, and look to
earn dollars. Well, there are dollars to earn here for a good man. Try a
spell on the canal works. We've vacancies almost all the while, for men
get tired of the job, while others fall sick. Then there's every sort of
work, to suit the knowledge of everyone. Of course white men have the
pick. They're skilled men, and naturally enough they get posts of
responsibility. Some drive steam navvies, others rock drills, while some
are powder men, and place the charges which we fire every night after
five. At the locks there's pile driving and concrete laying, with white
men to run the engines or supervise. As to diving--well, there may be
some of that, but it's the land we're chiefly engaged with."

The temptation to accept the proposal right off was strong, and Jim
found it difficult to keep from answering. Then he suddenly asked a
question.

"There's my sister," he said. "I suppose Tom and the others could easily
get work, and so stay here; but this place hasn't the best of
reputations for health. I must look after her."

"And she'll be as well looked after here as anywhere," said Phineas
eagerly. "We're high up out of the valley, the house has lately been
built, while that yarn about the health of the isthmus is old history.
We've changed all that. An American army surgeon, with others to help
him, discovered that yellow fever was given by a particular form of
mosquito. Well, he set to work to find where that mosquito lived and
bred. Then he formed a sanitary corps, drainage was looked to, scrub
cut down, windows barred by copper gauze. And we've fixed that mosquito.
Yellow fever is now unheard of on the isthmus, while there's very little
malarial fever. The canal zone, particularly in these high parts, is as
healthy as New York. Come now."

"I agree to stop if she cares to do so," cried Jim suddenly, for there
was an eagerness about the man before him which captivated him. It was
clear, in fact, that Phineas was anxious that Jim should stay; and since
he promised work, and stated that no harm could come to Sadie from
residence there, why, if matters could be arranged, Jim made up his mind
he would stay. Perhaps here he would find the means to cut the first
steps in that flight which was to lead to a revival of his fortunes.

"Then here's a plan," said Phineas. "I'm real glad you'll stay on here,
for I want a companion. I lost my wife five years ago, and by rights
should be living way over there in one of the hotels the American
Government has built for its employees. But I chose to have a house
alone, and at times it's lonesome. You'll stay along with me, and
Sadie'll have Mrs. Jones to look after her. There's a Government school
a quarter of a mile away, with plenty of boys and girls going. As for
the darkies and the Chinaman, I can't promise anything at present.
Depends on the work they have to do; but I've an idea I could make that
fellow Tom extra useful."

Exactly what was in the mind of this American official Jim could not
guess. He went to bed that night with a feeling of exultation to which
he had been a stranger for a long while, for Sadie had taken to Mrs.
Jones, and was delighted at the thought of remaining.

"Why trouble to go along to New York?" she asked him, in her wise little
way, when he asked her what she would like. "This place is glorious. The
view from the house is really magnificent, and there's no loneliness
anywhere. Look at the works going on, with thousands of men. Then Mrs.
Jones tells me that there are a number of boys and girls, so that I am
sure to have companions. You can earn good wages here, Jim, and perhaps
rise to a position of responsibility."

"Rise! that I will!" our hero told himself, for he was bubbling over
with enthusiasm. "I've myself alone to look to, and I'll work and make
those in authority over me see that I'm trustworthy. I'll show 'em I'm
not a skulker. Wonder what job I'll get?"

It was at an early hour on the following morning that he was up and out,
only to find Phineas abroad before him.

"That you, youngster?" he sang out cheerily, seeing Jim. "I've been down
to the office of the Commission doctor, who's fixed this arm for me. The
man who saw to it aboard the ship that brought us in hadn't too much
time, for there were others who'd been injured by some of those
Spaniards who'd been fighting. In consequence I had a bit of pain last
night; but I'm easy now. Let's get some breakfast, then you and I'll be
off."

An hour later found the two down at the point where the dirt trains were
already dumping their contents, and just where the huge Gatun dam was to
be erected, so, standing on an eminence, Jim was able, with the help of
his friend, to follow in a logical manner the plans of the American
engineers. For he could look into the long, winding hollow along which
at that moment flowed the tributaries of the Chagres River.

"It's just as clear as daylight," said Phineas, his face aglow, for
anything to do with the Panama Canal warmed him, so great was his
enthusiasm. "Away there below us, where you see two rivers coming
together to form what is known as the Chagres River, you may take it
that the level of the land is just a trifle above that of the sea, and
of course the water on this isthmus has found the lowest level possible.
It could not get away to the east because of the hill, and west here,
where we are, there's another. So that water just flows out between
them, the hills themselves forming, as it were, the neck of a bottle.
Well, we're just putting a cork into that neck. We're erecting a dam
across the valley between these two hills which will be 7700 feet in
length, measured across the top, while its base measurement will be 2060
feet."

"Enormous!" exclaimed Jim. "But surely such a tremendous mass is hardly
necessary?"

"What! with 164 miles of water behind it? Young sir, let me tell you
that there'll be a clear depth of water of 80 feet all along this end of
the lake we're forming. A body of water like that exerts terrific
pressure, and to make that dam really secure against a fracture, to make
an engineering job of it, as we should say, the dam ought to be
constructed of masonry built right into solid rock. But there ain't no
rock, more's the pity."

"None?" asked Jim. "Then you won't be able to use masonry?"

"Right, siree! But we're going to fix the business, and reckon, when the
dam's finished, nothing'll move it. Listen here, and jest look away
where I'm pointing. There's an army of niggers and European spademen at
work along the line the dam's to follow. They're working a trench right
across, 40 feet down into the soil. Those engines you can see smoking
along there are driving sheet piling of 4-inch timbers 40 feet down
below the bottom of that trench. When they have finished the job of
piling, the trench'll be filled chuck up with a puddled core of clay
that'll act like a sheet anchor."

"And so hold the dam in position," suggested Jim.

"Just what I thought you'd say. No doubt that puddled core will help to
hold the huge mass of earth that we're going to dump around it. But
we're working that piling in and making the core for another purpose
also. With a huge body of water in this hollow there'll be a certain
amount of soaking into the subsoil--seepage we call it. It might loosen
the ground underneath our dam, and so cause the thing to burst; but with
a 40-foot trench, filled with a puddled core which'll stop any water,
and this extra 40 feet of piling--just 80 feet of material
altogether--we stop that seepage, and at the same time kind of fix a
tooth into the ground that'll hold the weight of New York city."

The whole thing was gigantic, or, rather, the scheme of it all; for the
reader must realize that Jim and his friend were looking down upon an
unfinished undertaking. But those smoking engines and the army of men
at work were an indication of the enormous labour and skill required in
the erection of this Gatun dam, itself only one item in the numerous
works of the canal, though, to be sure, one of the vastest. In fact,
When Jim learned that from base to summit the dam would measure no less
than 135 feet, and would be 50 feet above the level of the water in
Gatun Lake, there was no wonder that he gasped.

"It just makes a man scratch his head," laughed Phineas. "And sometimes
it makes one inclined to swear, for there's folks in the States who
can't cotton to what we're doing here, and who wonder why there are so
many men employed and so much money being spent. They seem to think that
the canal ought to be finished in a matter of three or four years."

"Then the sooner they come out here and see for themselves what is
happening the better for everyone," cried Jim indignantly. "That dam
alone will take a vast amount of time, I imagine."

"Then you come along down here, sir, and I'll show you a work that's
just as gigantic."

Phineas took our hero to the western end of the trench across which the
dam would lie, and there caused him more astonishment. For here another
army of labourers was employed in delving, while enormous steam diggers
tore huge mouthfuls of earth and rock away from the sides of the cutting
that was being made to accommodate the double line of three locks which,
when America has completed her self-imposed undertaking, will raise the
biggest vessel ever thought of to the surface of the lake above, or will
drop her with equal facility down on to the bosom of the Atlantic.

"There's those steam navvies," observed Phineas, halting in front of one
and surveying it reflectively. "A man who runs a machine like that can
earn good dollars, and there's competition for the post. Say, Jim, how'd
you care to try your hand at it?"

The very suggestion caused our hero to hold his breath. It was not that
he was frightened by the mass of machinery; it was merely the novelty of
the work. He stepped a pace or two nearer before he answered, and
watched closely what happened. A young American, only a few years older
than himself, sat on a seat beside the gigantic main beam of the digger,
his head within a few inches of the flying gear wheels which transmitted
movement, while right beside him, fixed to the base of the steel-girded
beam, was the engine. One hand was on the throttle, while the other
operated a lever. Down came the huge bucket attached to the secondary
beam, the chains which supported it clanking over their stout metal
pulleys; then the hand operating the lever moved ever so little, the
chains tautened, and the hardened-steel cutting lip of the digger bit
into the bank which was being excavated. Deeper and deeper it went.
Glug! glug! glug! the machine grunted, while the tip of the main steel
girder, where the hauling chains passed over it, bent downwards ever so
little. A shower of broken earth burst over the edge of the digger, a
faint column of dust blew into the air, while the engine gave forth
another discordant glug. Then up came the huge bucket, crammed to the
very top with debris, the whole machine shuddering as the strain was
suddenly taken off it. But the man remained as composed as ever. He
touched another lever, causing the apparatus to swing round on its axis.
Almost instantly a movement from his other hand released the trigger
holding the bottom of the huge earth receptacle in place, so that,
before the machine had actually finished swinging, the huge mouth of
this wonderful invention was disgorging its contents into a dirt car
alongside.

"Fine!" cried Jim delightedly. "That's a job I should like immensely,
but I guess it requires a little training."

"Practice, just practice," smiled Phineas. "See here, Jim; this arm of
mine has started in aching again. How'd you care to stay along here and
have a lesson? That young chap's a friend of mine, so there'll be no
difficulty about the matter."

It may be imagined that Jim eagerly accepted the offer. He was keen
enough to accompany Phineas on his promised trip right along the canal
works, but already the sight of all that was happening round about Gatun
had been sufficient for one day, while the huge machine before him and
its cool and unruffled operator fascinated him.

"Gee! nothing I'd like better," he cried.

"Then come along." Phineas at once went close up to the machine, and at
a signal from him the operator brought it to a rest.

"Howdy?" asked the young fellow. "Getting in at it, Mr. Barton?"

Under the tan which covered face and arms there was a sudden flush of
pride which an ordinary individual might well have passed unnoticed.
But Jim was slowly beginning to understand and realize something of the
spirit that seemed to pervade every member of the whole staff engaged on
the isthmus. For there was no doubt that the completion of the canal was
a pet object to them one and all, an undertaking the gradual progress of
which filled them with an all-absorbing interest. Each mouthful of dirt,
for instance, which this steam digger tore from the ground and shot from
its capacious maw into the earth trains was a little more progress,
something further attained towards that grand and final completion to
which all were sworn.

"Howdy? Say, Harry boy, this here's Jim. You've heard of that little
business we had on the way to New York?"

The young man nodded, and regarded Jim critically. "Wall?" he asked
curtly.

"He's the lad that came along after me when I was left aboard the
foundering vessel."

The one who had been addressed as Harry dropped his hands from the
levers, swung round on his seat the better to gaze at our hero, and,
still with his eyes on Jim, replied to Phineas.

"I read it in the paper," he admitted. "How did it happen?"

Phineas promptly gave him the narrative, Harry meanwhile keeping his
eyes on Jim. Then, when he learned that our hero had decided to stay on
the isthmus, and seek work there, he climbed out of the narrow cab
bolted to the side of the digger, dropped lightly to the ground, and,
walking straight up to Jim, held out his hand.

"It's men we want here," he said pleasantly. "Guess you're one. Glad to
shake hands with an American who's done a good turn for my friend
Phineas. What job are you after?"

Jim told him promptly, while he exchanged his handshake vigorously; for
he liked the look of this young American, and took to him instantly.

"I'm not sure yet exactly what job I'll ask for," he answered. "Guess
I'm ready to take anything that's going; but I was wondering whether
you'd give me a lesson on the digger."

"Know anything about engines and suchlike?" asked Harry sharply.

Jim nodded. "Guess I do," he said, with that delightful assurance so
common to the Americans. "I've handled engines of many sorts,
particularly those aboard ship; and for some months past I've been doing
diving."

"Git in there," said Harry, motioning to the cab, "I'll larn you to work
this plant inside an hour or two. Then all that's wanted is jest native
gumption, gumption, siree, spelt with a big G, 'cos a man ain't no good
on these here chugging machines unless he can keep his head cool.
There's times when the digger pulls through the earth quicker than you
can think, and when, if you didn't cut off steam, you'd overwind and
chaw up all the chain gear. Then the lip of the digger may happen to get
hold on a rock that wants powder to shift it, and if there's steam still
on, and the engines pulling, you're likely as not to break up some of
the fixings, and tip the whole concern over on to its nose. Hop right
in; Mr. Barton, I'll see to this here Jim till evening."




CHAPTER V

The Ways of the Steam Digger


To say that Jim could not have been put into better or more capable
hands is to tell only the truth. For Harry, the young American operating
the steam digger, was one of those eager, hard-working fellows who
strive their utmost, who are not satisfied unless they make the very
best of a task, and who, given a machine of great power, cause it to
produce the biggest results possible, consistent with proper management,
and who, unlike some, do not curtail its strength, and limit its output.

"You jest hop up there inside with me," he said, wiping the sweat from
his forehead, and tilting his broad sombrero hat backwards a little.
"It'll be close quarters, you bet; but when a chap's learning a job he
don't kick at trifles."

Jim obeyed his orders with alacrity. He clambered up into the narrow
cab, which was merely a metal framework bolted to the huge, sloping
steel girder which may be termed the backbone of the leviathan digger,
and seated himself upon a hard wooden seat barely wide enough for one
person. Just above his head was a toothed wheel, with another, very much
larger, engaging with it. Beside him, causing him to start when he
touched it, for it was very hot, were a brace of cylinders, with a
lever adjacent for operating the throttle. Right overhead was a roof of
split and warped boards, which helped to keep away the rays of the sun;
for on this isthmus of Panama the heat is fierce at times, and extremely
enervating.

"But, bless you, we don't notice it," said Harry, swarming up after him,
and seeing that he had noticed the shelter. "Most all of us wear a big
hat. In fact you can say as every white man does. Them dagoes don't;
they seem to like the sun, same as the Spaniards. Seen anything of 'em,
mate?"

Jim nodded. "Not much," he admitted. "There were a few aboard that ship,
and they didn't impress me much. They lost their heads and fought like
wild beasts."

"Aye, that's them all over; but they're good 'uns to work once they're
set to at it, and know you won't put up with any nonsense. I don't
suppose there was ever a part where gangs of them Spaniards works better
than they do here, and gives so little trouble. Now and agin there's a
rumpus, and the police has to intervene; but it ain't often. See 'em
over there."

Jim had been so occupied with his inspection of the giant digger that he
had hardly had eyes for his surroundings; but as Harry pointed, he swung
round in the cab and surveyed the scene. It was remarkable, to say the
least of it. Right behind him lay track on track of metal rails, all
running direct towards the Atlantic, and the majority of them on
different levels. They seemed to hug various gigantic steps, by which
the sides of the huge trench in which the digger was situated ascended
to level ground. Hundreds of cars were on these rails, with a little,
smoking engine at their heads, and a half-closed-in cab behind. Gangs of
European and black labourers were disposed here and there, some breaking
up rocks obstructing the tracks, others carrying lengths of double rail
track bolted together in readiness to be placed in position, while yet
again others were engaged in pouring a liquid into trenches at the side
of the cutting. Jim looked puzzled, and Harry laughed outright as he
caught a glimpse of his face.

"Gee! It do amuse me when strangers come along," he cried. "Guess this
here's an eye-opener. Any fellow can tell what we're doing, and why
we're doing it, except the reason for those men and the stuff they're
pouring into the trench. Say now, what's it for?"

Jim could not even hazard a guess. It was inexplicable, and seemed,
indeed, to be an idiotic proceeding. His face must have shown his
thoughts, for Harry burst into a loud guffaw, though, unconsciously,
pride again crept into his tones as he answered.

"Guess you ain't the first as thought there was madmen about," he said.
"But all that stuff being put into the trenches is jest part of this
almighty scheme. Without it we wouldn't be able to work; for that's a
gang from the sanitary corps, and guess they're nosing round most every
day. It's their particular job to see as there isn't a place where a
mosquito can breed, or where water can easily lay. Ef there's a spot
made in purpose to carry away water, same as that 'ere trench, where
some of it's bound to lay, why, they spreads kerosene along it, and no
self-respecting mosquito'll go near that stuff. It's a terror to 'em.
Guess this Panama zone, stretching five miles either side of the canal
line, fairly gives them insects the pip, it's that unhealthy for 'em. As
for us, we lives in comfort, and goes on living, which can't be said for
others who was here before us. But jest get a grip of that throttle
lever, and don't be skeared. Keep cool all the time, and when I cry
'stop', jest jerk it off. She'll come up short jest as ef she was alive,
and that's something, seeing as this is a hundred-ton digger. She's able
easy to cut her way into well over a thousand cubic yards of dirt in an
eight-hours day, and can sling some six hundred double horse loads into
them trucks. But we ain't dealin' with horses here. It's machines all
the time, machines, and men, I guess, to drive 'em."

It was grand to hear the fellow talk; unconsciously a glow crept into
Jim's face. To think that he, by the movement of his ten fingers, and by
the use of his own brain, could control such work, and then to remember
that every little task accomplished was setting his country nearer the
day of triumph. For triumph it must be: America, in spite of the
croakings of a few, cannot and will not fail. She may experience
setbacks; but she will prevail in the end. Her native determination and
the grit of her workers will compel her.

"You can jest see how we're moving," said Harry, placing a hand on a
second lever. "This here digger's set up on a truck heavy enough to take
it, with its boiler right away at the tail end of the truck, to
counterbalance the stuff we're lifting. We're on rails, as you can see,
with a second track beside us that holds a spoil train, as we calls the
trucks into which we chucks the dirt. Right clear afore us is the
ground we're digging, and you're jest going to take a bite fer yerself.
Watch that digger."

Jim cast his eyes upon the huge bucket with its steel cutting lip placed
at the end of a secondary beam slanting downwards from the lower part of
the main steel girder. Huge chains ran from the upper edge to the tip of
the girder, and, as Harry gently pushed his lever, the chains ran out
clanking, and the bucket descended till it bumped on to the ground. It
was now at the foot of a broken and steep slope some eight feet in
height, at the summit of which was the first of that series of big steps
ascending to the top of the lock cutting, and accommodating rail tracks.
Indeed a spoil train was crunching along it as he looked, while on half
a dozen others trains were to be seen. As to the sloping bank itself, it
ran on directly till it came to a dead end, where an army of men were
engaged in erecting the lake-end wall of the lock. Behind, it dwindled
into other banks, and was lost in the distance.

"Where we started, I guess," said Harry, following his gaze. "First the
dredgers got to work, then the steam shovels. You see, we cut deep down
in the centre first of all, and then take a step out at either side.
Then, while diggers get to work to cut other steps we go deeper again in
the centre. But let's get at this here bank. That bucket's drawn the
chains out by its own weight. This here lever controls a brake, and I
can stop the bucket at any point; but it's there, ready for digging.
Give her steam, and gently with it. Be ready to cut off if I shout."

Jim moved his lever ever so gently. The proposition was so new to him
that he felt somewhat timid of the results; but Harry was as calm as
ever. He watched the cutting edge of the bucket dig deep into the bank,
while Jim, watching it also, cast an eye upward at the chains where they
passed over the tip of the girder. Chug! chug! chug! they went, while
the massive beam trembled; but nothing could stop the irresistible
course of the digger. The bucket sheared its way upward through the
soil, and in a very little while had accomplished the whole height of
the bank; then, its work done, it shot upward, causing the machine to
shiver and shake.

"Cut her off," cried Harry, and obedient to the word Jim shoved the
lever over.

"Now take a grip of this here lever I've been holding, and pull it to
you. Give her steam."

Clank! clank! clank! Jim felt the gears engage as he shifted the lever,
and once more opened the throttle of the engine. Now he experienced a
new and altogether delightful sensation; for the huge mass of machinery
to which the cab was bolted, and which was situated on the front of the
heavy truck carrying the whole apparatus, swung round easily, the loaded
bucket well in front and overhead. Harry grinned: it amused him to watch
the delight on his pupil's face. But this was not the moment for
allowing his attention to become distracted. He kept a careful eye on
the bucket, and, a moment later, just as it began to swing over the dirt
truck placed on the side track, he pulled a rope, and with a loud
clatter the bottom of the bucket banged open and the dirt fell into the
truck.

"Stop her!" he shouted, and Jim at once closed his throttle. "This is
the boy that works the shutter for us. See here; pull it and give her
steam. Watch those two arms to which the bottom of the bucket are
bolted. This here gear just overhead works 'em and closes them over the
trigger. Gee! If you ain't working this here like an old hand. Now watch
it. That bucket's closed, and you've always to remember to close it
afore you swing the machine back again to its work, 'cos the edge of the
bottom comes low down and would foul the truck. That'd mean a bust up.
Now, round with her. Stop her; get a hold of the brake lever and let her
drop."

Confused at first, because of the multiplicity of movements, in an hour
Jim was quite at home with the machine. True, he made errors; for
instance, he forgot that very important movement to close the bucket,
and, as a consequence, though he missed the side of the truck he nearly
ripped off the head from a negro. But Harry was there to supervise, and
a quick movement on his part arrested the machine.

"Hi! What fo you gwine kill me, yo?" shouted the negro, who had been
untouched, as it happened. "Yo take care ob that great big playting ob
yours. Not here to dig niggers. Not like hab de head knocked off."

Harry roared. "It's only Joe," he shouted. "He's been as near a blow
afore now, and loves to make the most of it. See here, Joe," he
bellowed, "I ain't a-goin' to have my machine broken against that 'ere
hard head of yours. I'll have to be warning the foreman overseer to
shunt yer."

That brought a grin from the negro. He showed his teeth, and shook his
fist at Harry; but Jim knew his meaning well enough. The big fellow was
just like the rest of his people--just a big, strong, healthy baby, who
saw the fun in everything, and, if there were no fun, manufactured it
promptly.

"I's gwine to break yo into little pieces," he said, clambering on to
the cab and poking his face within an inch of Harry's. "Yo say I hab
hard head? Lummy! Me hab hard fist as well."

"Git out!" shouted Harry, striking at him with the slack end of the rope
that commanded the bucket trigger.

"Who's he?" demanded Joe, nodding at Jim, and suddenly changing the
conversation.

"Him? Why, Jim, of course. Saved Mr. Barton."

"Den I knows him."

To Jim's astonishment the negro stretched out a hand and shook his
eagerly. Then he explained the situation. "Know Tom and Sam," he said.
"Dey down here now, seein' tings. I show dem round. Tom mighty
impressed: he tink yo work de digger better'n Harry."

That brought an exclamation from the latter, while Joe jumped down from
the machine just in time to escape the swing of the rope. But his words
were true; close beside the digger were Tom and Sam.

"By de poker, but yo run him well!" shouted Tom. "Me's watched yo dis
last half-hour. Seems to Tom as ef yo soon have a job in the diggin'."

To the huge fellow everything that Jim did was well done, everything he
attempted was sure to be accomplished; and never for one moment did he
tire of watching his hero. But Jim had his lesson to learn, and for
another hour held to the work. By that time he had filled a whole spoil
train, and had watched another shunted into position.

"Ready to fill like the last," said Harry. "That's the proposition that
jest beat us at first. There wasn't enough trucks nor locomotives to
begin with, and not enough tracks, so these fine diggers wasted half
their time; but we've fixed it a while since. Soon as a train's loaded
it's pulled back, while an empty spoil train crosses the switches
behind. That comes over another switch just behind the digger, and so
right on alongside, the last truck just in position for loading, the
first 'way ahead. Then, as you've seen for yourself, we move along, a
few inches after every dig, filling the trucks as we go."

"And then?" asked Jim. "What happens? Where is the dirt taken? Who
unloads the trucks?"

"Gee! You are a chap fer questions. Where does it go? Away up there, at
the far end of the river gully, where the Lake of Gatun'll be, there's a
sight more dirt than this being taken from the isthmus. Some of that's
being dumped at the dam just away over our heads; some of it's being
emptied outside Panama, filling up a swamp through which the canal will
run. Reckon there won't be swamps when we're done. There'll be good hard
ground, and houses'll be built on a spot where there's fever nowadays.
We're using dirt at this end in the same way; but you was asking about
the dumping?"

Jim nodded, and looked at the spoil train being hauled away. "The gangs
of niggers do it, I guess," he said. "But it must take longer than the
loading by a long way; at least that's what one would imagine."

"Jest about seven minutes fer the whole train," smiled Harry. "My davy
on it! You ask how? Wall, listen here. I've been here a long while, and
in them days when we was fixed badly fer more trucks niggers did see to
clearing the spoil trains--and precious bad niggers they was, too, about
that time. Yer see, they mostly comes from the West Indian Isles, and
somehow the place didn't seem to suit 'em. They was too slack to work
much; but guess our officials fixed the trouble. They found it was the
food, and now every nigger employed on the works gets his meals regular
at a Commission barracks, and sech meals as gives him strength. But we
was talking of unloading. See that truck 'way in front of the trains,
the one just close to the engine? Wall, that's the Lidgerwood apparatus,
and guess it beats creation. There's a plough right forward of the
train, and a wire rope attached to it. When the spoil train has been
brought to the place where the dirt's to be dumped, niggers or Europeans
let down the truck ends, so's the whole train's one long platform. The
plough then gets pulled from end to end, and shoots the dirt out. Seven
minutes for a whole train, siree! Lightning ain't in it!"

Whistles sounded at this minute, and promptly Harry shut down his levers
and leaped from the cab.

"Guess you've done right well fer a first time," he said. "In a day
you'll be able to get to at it alone. Anyway, you've earned your grub.
Come along to the Commission hotel; there's meals there for all whites,
and no one can grumble at them."

Wherever he went Jim found something to interest him, so much so that
it was a matter of wonder to him that, though he had often been close to
the isthmus, he had had no idea of the extraordinary bustle taking place
there. It was so extremely surprising to find small towns sprung up
where he was assured there was but a single native hut before, to
discover buildings so temptingly cool and elegant in appearance, and to
learn that America not only employed labour, but provided quarters,
food, and recreation for her employees. And here was another example.
Harry took him away from the lock cutting, where one of these days a
double tier of three locks will elevate ships from the Atlantic, and
introduced him to his friends in one of the well-equipped hotels erected
for the accommodation of white employees. Hundreds of men were streaming
up the steps as they arrived, and passing in behind the copper-gauze
screens of the veranda. Jim noticed that all bore much the same
appearance--for the most part clean shaven, with here and there some
wearing moustaches and beards. Dressed in rough working clothes, with
broad-brimmed hats, none showed signs of ill health. There was a buzz of
eager conversation as they washed before the meal, and a loud clatter
from many tongues as they sat at the tables. As to the food, it was
plain, abundant, and well cooked.

"Costs jest fifty cents a day," explained Harry. "If you've finished
we'll get to the club. We usually go along fer a smoke at dinner-time.
'Sides, there's a cable of interest now and agin, and sometimes
letters."

A few minutes with Harry at the club served, in fact, to banish any
doubts which Jim may have had as to remaining on the isthmus. For here
was comfort and recreation at the same time, and plenty of men with whom
to make friends.

"This here's Jim, him as saved Phineas Barton," Harry told his comrades,
and the statement was at once sufficient to rouse interest. Hand-grips
were exchanged with our hero. The news of his presence spread round the
huge room, in which men were smoking or playing dominoes at little
tables, and one by one they strolled up.

"You're stayin' here?" asked one, and when Jim nodded, "I'm main glad:
Phineas is one of the best, and a chap who could go in for him as you
did must be one of the right kind. What are you going to do?"

"Steam digging, I hope," said Jim. "But of course I'm green yet."

"You'll do. If you've got the grit to face being sucked under by a
foundering ship, guess you've the gumption to run one of them diggers.
Anyway, I'm glad you're staying. Play yer a game of dominoes one of
these mornings."

"Say, siree, ken you sing any?" asked another, when he had shaken hands;
"'cos there's concerts here sometimes o' nights, and a new hand aer
wanted."

"Guess I can do a little," answered Jim, reddening; for here was a find.
No one loved a sing-song more than our hero, and, to give him only his
due, he had an excellent voice, badly trained, or not trained at all, to
be accurate, but pleasing for all that. "When I've put a little together
I'll buy a banjo," he told his interrogator. "I had one aboard the
ship, but guess it's deep down below the Caribbean."

"My, that are good news! Say, boys, here's one as can strum on a banjo."

The information was hailed with delight by those present, for a banjo
player was an acquisition indeed. These skilled white men engaged in the
Panama undertaking were as simple as well could be, and longed for
nothing more than mild recreation. After an eight-hours day of strenuous
work, and supper at the Commission hotel, it delighted them to gather at
one of the clubs and there listen to an impromptu concert. But the
midday halt was not the time for dawdling. Already the better part of
the interval was gone, and very soon the blowing of steam whistles
summoned the workers back to their machines; for nearly every one of the
white employees in that hotel managed some sort of machine.

"There's a heap of them engaged with the rock drillers," said Harry,
"and ef you go along the line to-morrow, towards Panama, and enter the
great Culebra cut, you'll see and hear 'em at work everywhere. Most
every night, when the whistles has blown and the men cleared off, you'd
think a battle was being fought over there, for there's dynamite and
powder exploding on every side, and huge rocks jest bounding down into
the trench. Gee! There is a dust up. But I war saying that most everyone
who's white has a machine to mind. Of course there are overseers, and
lots of officials. Then there's a small army kept going in the repair
shops 'way along over Panama direction, at Gorgona. That's a place as
would open the eyes of people at New York. I tell you, they turn out a
power of work there. See that machine down there running along the
rails? Wall, that's home-made, every stick and rod of it put together at
Gorgona, and, what's more, it's the invention of one of the employees
here."

He was bursting with pride, with a legitimate pride. There was no
conceit about Harry, but merely a robust belief in all that his comrades
did, and in particular in the brains and muscles at work on this giant
undertaking. With a sweep of his hand he pointed to a heavy truck, with
a crane-like attachment built on it, running along the rails on one of
the higher steps of the huge cutting on which he himself was engaged.

"Jest watch it," he invited Jim. "It's a treat to see it handle rails.
You see, our rails wants shifting constantly; for as the diggers clear
the dirt they naturally want to get forward or outward, as the case may
be, seeing that we cut our steps away to the side. Anyhow, there's need
to swap the rails from place to place and lay new tracks, and that 'ere
machine is a track layer, which handles the double lengths of bolted
rails as if they was sticks."

Jim was fascinated, indeed, as he watched this new wonder; for wonder
the machine undoubtedly was. As he looked he could realize that gangs of
men and much time might be needed to shift the lines of rails, and time,
he remembered, was an item of which his comrades were sparing. Bustle
was the order of the day, and of every succeeding day, on the isthmus.
As to the machine, it swung its arm over a long length of rail, fastened
its clutches upon it, and lifted the double track, ready bolted to its
sleepers, into the air. Then it trotted along the rails, and presently
deposited its burden somewhere else.

"And by the time it's nipped back for another length, and has brought
it, the track gang has got the lengths in line, and has bolted the
fishplates to it," explained Harry. "But that digger's waiting for us.
Git along, Jim."

Breezy was not the word for this young American. He seemed to enjoy
every minute of his life, and would have made an admirable companion for
one subject to depression. However, Jim was not that; our hero was
naturally inclined to jollity, if at times serious, as became his
position of responsibility, but with Harry beside him there was no
thought of seriousness. They made a laughing, jolly couple on the
digger. The hours flew by, so that Jim was astonished when the
five-o'clock whistles blew.

"How's he shaping?" he heard a voice ask, and, turning, found it was
Phineas Barton, with another white beside him.

"Shaping! Say, ef there's a digger going free he's fit to take it right
off, he's that careful," cried Harry. "See him at it, Major."

"You jest go along as you was before," he whispered in Jim's ear, as the
latter hopped back into the cab of the digger. "I ain't going to stay up
there alongside of you, 'cos there ain't no need; and you ain't got no
cause to feel flustered. The Major's one of the works bosses, and reckon
employment lays with him. He'll know in a jiffy that you're able to do
the work."

To tell the truth our hero felt somewhat scared at the moment, more
even than he had that morning when taking his place for the first time
on the machine. But he had perfect confidence now in his powers of
control, and, with that assurance to help him, struggled against the
unusual feeling of nervousness which had so suddenly attacked him, and
let the bucket of the digger rattle down to the bottom of the bank. Time
after time he dug his way upwards, and delighted Harry by his
management.

"Gee! Ef he ain't got some brass!" the latter exclaimed beneath his
breath, as the bucket swung out over the spoil train. "He's copying me
with a vengeance. I mind the time when I first started in at the
business, and it took me a sight longer to fix the emptying of that
bucket. But this here Jim has kind of tumbled to the knack. He swings
her out, and ain't stopped swinging afore he opens up and lets his dirt
drop. Ef that don't fix the Major, wall he don't deserve to have good
men."

As a matter of fact the official was a good deal impressed; but he was a
cautious man, and was not inclined to be taken in by a demonstration
which might prove to be somewhat freakish. He told himself that under
observation there are some men who do better than others, only to break
down on ordinary occasions, lacking the stimulus of a gallery to
applaud. He yet wanted to prove that this would-be employee had a head
on his shoulders, and though he had heard the tale of the rescue, he
determined to see if Jim could show coolness on dry land as well as in
the water. Therefore he strolled across to the head of the spoil train,
to find the driver had not yet quitted his post, in fact he was just in
the act of uncoupling from the train, but willingly obeyed an order.
Then the official strolled back, to find Jim still busy with the digger,
and, waiting a favourable opportunity, waved his arm. What followed made
Harry stand up on his toes with anxiety.

"He's sure to boss it!" he growled. "Gee, if I don't talk to that
driver! He knows as well as I do that he ought to blow his whistle afore
giving his engine steam to draw out. An old hand wouldn't be caught, but
most like Jim'll bungle it. He'll get his bucket opened over the train,
and the moving cars will catch it."

That, it was evident, was the intention of the Major. He was applying a
test which might well strain the cuteness of a raw hand; and, as it
happened, it was only watchfulness which saved Jim. Up came his bucket,
a mass of dirt tumbling from its edge, and round spun the machine,
swinging the bucket over the trucks. In a moment the bottom would fall
open. Harry could see him handling the rope which freed the trigger.
Then he gave a sigh of satisfaction, for Jim had observed the movement.
His hand left the rope, the bucket stopped in its swing, there was the
grinding sound of moving gears, and promptly the massive beam returned
on its axis.

"That train's moving," he shouted. "I might have had a jam up."

"You might, and no mistake," said Phineas, coming up to the side of the
cab. "You jest fixed the business nicely. Reckon if there had been a
bust-up the Major deserved to have to pay for the damage. Say, Major,
here's a hand wanting a job."

"Bring him to the office to-morrow; I'll take him," was the short
reply. "Usual terms; he can get on to a digger way up by Culebra."

Before Jim could thank him the official had departed, leaving our hero
still seated in the cab.

"You kin git down off that machine and eat a supper feeling you've
earned it," exclaimed Harry, coming up to him and gripping his hand.
"I'm main sorry though that you're to work at Culebra, 'cos it would
have been nice to meet of an evening."

"And no reason why you shouldn't," cried Phineas. "See here, Harry,
Jim's to live with me. He and his sister will have quarters at the
house, the two niggers and the Chinaman also. It's an exception, I know,
but there it is. Of course he'll get his dinner and supper way up at
Culebra; but he'll take breakfast with me, and of an evening he'll come
down to the club here. Guess you'll hear more of him."

That the arrangement was likely to prove satisfactory seemed certain,
and it may be imagined that Jim was filled with glee. He sat in
Phineas's parlour that night, behind the screen of copper gauze, with
his mind full of the morrow, wondering what Culebra would be like, and
whether the men working there could be half so pleasant as those he had
already met.




CHAPTER VI

A Shot in the Dark


Folks in the Panama zone do not keep late hours as a rule, for work
begins at an early hour, and he who would be fresh and ready must seek
his bed early. However, Jim and his friends were not to find repose on
this, almost their first night ashore, as readily as they imagined.
Indeed they were to meet with an adventure which was startling, to say
the least of it. They were seated in the parlour, Jim and Phineas,
discussing their work, while Sadie had retired for the night. Tom and
Sam were engaged in an animated conversation in the back regions, and,
no doubt, were themselves preparing to turn in. Not one had an idea that
a stranger was prowling about outside the house.

"Thought I heard someone about," Jim had remarked, some few minutes
earlier, but Phineas had shaken his head emphatically.

"Imagination!" he cried. "There's no one comes around here at
nighttimes. You see, this house lies away from the others, and up the
hill. Unless a friend's coming up to smoke a pipe with me, there's no
one this way of an evening; they don't fancy the climb. Sit down again,
Jim. How much do you think you're going to earn on that digger?"

Jim threw himself into his chair again, let his head drop back, and
closed his eyes. He already had an inkling of what he would earn. The
thought had brought him vast pleasure; for there was enough to pay for
his own and Sadie's keep.

"Three dollars, fifty cents, less fifty cents a day for food," he said,
after a while.

"Put it at four dollars fifty," said Phineas. "Four dollars fifty cents,
less fifteen cents for your dinner. T'other meals you take here. So
you'll net four dollars twenty-five a day, and free quarters."

"One moment," exclaimed Jim. "Free quarters! No, Mr. Phineas. You must
allow me to pay my way. I couldn't stop with you without making some
sort of contribution to the expenses of the house."

"Just as I should have thought," said Phineas, smiling at him. "Any chap
with a little pride would want to pay his way: but these quarters are
free. The Commission gives you so much a day, and free quarters. If I
choose to have a companion, he don't have a call to pay for the rooms he
uses; so that's wiped off. Then as to food: if you pay twenty-five cents
a day for yourself, thirty for Sadie, seeing that she's only small,
making fifty-five, and another ten for general expenses, there'll be
nothing more to be said. How's that?"

Jim thought it was extremely fair, as indeed it was, and at once agreed.
The arrangement would allow of his putting by some twenty dollars a
week, and at the end of a year he told himself that that would mount to
a nice little sum. But again he heard a sound outside, and rose to his
feet.

"I'm sure I heard a footstep," he exclaimed. "There!"

Phineas was doubtful, still he went to the door with him, and emerged on
to the balcony. There was no one to be seen, and it was so dark that had
there been anyone they would have escaped detection. They retired again,
therefore, to the parlour, unaware of the figure skulking close down at
the foot of the veranda. The man--for a man it undoubtedly was--rose to
his feet stealthily, and stood there listening for a while, till he
heard voices coming from the parlour. Then he clambered on to the
veranda by way of the steps, and crept towards the square patch of light
which indicated the gauze-covered window of the parlour. Slowly he
raised his head till he was able to look into the room. As he did so,
the lamplight flickering through fell upon his head and shoulders so
that one could get some impression of his appearance. Decidedly short in
stature, the man's face was swarthy, while the eyes seemed to be small
and unusually bright, quite a feature of the face, in fact. He wore a
long, flowing, black moustache, while his chin was covered with a
stubbly growth a week old; but there was something about the face which
immediately attracted one's attention more than any other feature. It
was the mouth. The lips were parted in something resembling a snarl,
showing a set of irregular white teeth, which with the lamplight shining
on them looked cruel. A Spaniard one would have said at once. More than
that, his features were familiar. Little did Jim guess that the ruffian
staring in upon him was one of those who had fought for the boats in the
waist of the foundering ship on which he had been voyaging to New York,
and that he himself had incurred the man's hatred by a blow which, now
that the matter was over, he could not remember having given. But one's
actions in the heat of a contest often pass utterly unnoticed and
unremembered. Jim had no idea now that this same man had dashed at him
with a drawn knife, and that he had floored him with a straight blow
from his fist between the eyes. However, if he had no recollection the
ruffian had.

"The very one," he told himself, with a hiss of anger, as he peeped in
at the two unconscious men. "See the pup. He sits there chatting as if
he had no fear, and as if he expected a Spaniard to forget. But I am not
one of those; a blow for a blow, I say. I meant to thrust my knife
between his ribs aboard the ship; now I will put lead into him. It will
be more certain."

His hand went unconsciously to his face, and for a few moments he let
his fingers play very gently about his nose, for that was the organ on
which Jim's fist had descended with such suddenness and weight. Even now
it was decidedly tender, and pained the man as he touched it. That
caused his sinister, bright, little eyes to light up fiercely, while the
lips curled farther back from his cruel, irregular teeth as the fingers
of the other hand fell upon the butt of a revolver tucked into his belt.

"A blow for a blow; if not with the knife, then with the bullet.
He who strikes a Spaniard must reckon with the consequences, and
afterwards--pouff! there will be no afterwards. The bullet will end
everything."

Slowly he drew the weapon, and pulled the hammer back with his thumb
till it clicked into position.

"What was that?" asked Jim, hearing the sound distinctly. Even Phineas
heard it this time, and stood to his feet.

"Perhaps one of the boys is outside; perhaps your Tom, or Sam," he said
swiftly. "Certainly there is someone; we'll go and see."

He went towards the door, while Jim rose from his chair and moved
towards him. It was an opportunity of which the Spaniard took the
fullest advantage.

"Now or never," he told himself. "If they come out, my chance is gone."

He lifted the weapon till it was on a level with his face. Then he
directed it through the gauze window at Jim, and, pressing heavily on
the trigger, finally released it. Click!

An oath escaped him, for the weapon had missed fire, while the two men
within the room had already reached the door. He pulled again, till the
hammer swung upward. Bang! There was a deafening report, a neat little
hole was torn in the gauze, while the leaden messenger he had discharged
struck the doorpost, an inch above our hero's head, with a thud which
caused him to start. As for the Spaniard, he did not wait to see what
success he had had. He turned on his heel and fled down the steps of the
veranda, and out into the night.

"Gee! A shot! There was someone outside then!"

Phineas swung round swiftly to stare at Jim. The latter nodded curtly.

"Yes," he agreed. "A shot. There's the bullet."

He took the lamp from the table and held it up towards the doorpost.

"Just an inch above my head," he smiled. "I heard the thing bang into
the woodwork, and felt the wind of the shot. Close, Mr. Phineas!"

"But--but who fired it? Why? Where from?"

There were a thousand questions he wished to ask, and only the last
could Jim answer. He took his friend to the copper gauze stretching
across the window, which was otherwise devoid of covering, for no glass
was employed, and again with the help of the lamp showed him a neat
little round hole punched through the gauze.

"He stood outside there and stared in at us," he said, putting the
events as he guessed them. "He cocked his pistol, and we heard the
noise. Then he fired as we got to the door. Queer, isn't it, Mr.
Phineas?"

"Queer! It's downright, cold-blooded attempt at murder!" shouted
Phineas. "Call those boys."

But there was no need to summon them. Tom and Sam were already at the
door, while Ching was in the passage, a swaying lantern in his hand.

"What dat?" asked Tom, his eyes beginning to bulge. "Someone fire a
shot. Tom not like dat at all; he tink someone try to kill him."

"Boys," said Phineas, keeping perfectly cool, "some scoundrel came to
the window of the parlour and fired at Jim here. He missed him by an
inch. We must follow and take the fellow, whoever he may be; it may be
the work of a lunatic. Bring along that lamp, Ching."

"One moment!" cried Jim. "Best leave someone here in case the fellow
returns. Tom, you look after the house. I can trust you to frighten
anyone away. Sam and Ching will come with us. Sam, we want you to open
those eyes of yours extra wide: that fellow must be followed. Now, are
we ready? But first, has anyone seen a stranger about here to-day?"

"Seed a nasty-lookin' Spaniard, I did," admitted Sam, his eyes shining
bright and eager in the lamplight. "Him one of de crowd working on de
canal I tink; but me recognize him. Same man aboard de steamer, sah; yo
knock him down when he come for yo wid a knife. Yo go bang, squelch! Him
flop over on to him back, den creep away growling out, and sayin' tings
beneath him breath. Him nasty fellow altogether."

"Then there is the motive for the crime," declared Phineas at once.
"There is never any telling what some of these Southerners will do. No
doubt, in the course of the fight aboard the ship, you knocked him down,
though from the look of your face you evidently don't remember the
matter. See here, Jim; let Tom go with you. I forgot that I have a
broken arm, and am more likely to delay you; but I'll telephone down to
the police headquarters in Colon, and put them on the watch. I suppose
you'll follow?"

Jim nodded promptly. "At once," he said with decision. "If I passed the
matter now, he would make a second attempt, and I don't much fancy that.
Sam's a splendid tracker, and if there's a mark he will be able to find
it. Then come along, boys. Ching, bring the lamp; perhaps there's
another we can have?"

It took but a few minutes to discover another lamp, then the party set
out. Meanwhile the diminutive Sam, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm,
had been moving swiftly about the house outside.

"Seen de footmarks, sah," he said, as Jim came out to join him, with Tom
and Ching in close attendance. "Look, sah: he come up to de house by
here, and hide under de veranda. Den he creep on to it. Dere de muddy
boots make a mark. He stand at de window and shoot bang right through.
Plenty more mark outside. Soon find de villain."

It had rained that evening, soon after the whistles had sounded for the
men to cease work, and, since this side of the isthmus gets more than a
fair share of wet weather, the ground is generally somewhat soft. In
fact, it was just the place a criminal should not have selected, for it
gave opportunities of tracking even to amateurs. But Sam was no amateur.

"When I live down south, often track de nigger," he explained to Ching;
whereat the lanky, thin Chinaman wagged his head, shaking his pigtail
from side to side.

"Ob course not so easy, not at all, siree," added Sam, an air of
importance about him. "Specially when dere so many mens about. But yo
see, yo China boy; me soon come up wid dis fellow, and den skin um
alive, cook um, see?"

He gritted his sharp teeth together, and in the lamplight looked
particularly fierce. Indeed the jolly little fellow seemed to be
transformed by the work so unexpectedly placed before him. He was
desperately serious now, and eager to proceed with the quest.

"By de poker, but yo talk a heap!" exclaimed Tom, taking the lamp from
Ching. "Now yo, Sam, yo get to work quick. Me help, but not jaw; time to
chatter when de man found."

"Den yo follow here. See dis! He shoot through de window and den run. He
jump from the veranda and come all ob a heap, so he did. Ha! Yo can see
dat, eh? Eben a big, fat nigger same as you, Tom, can see dat?"

Tom wisely ignored the remark. He followed Sam's indicating finger,
noticed that the dirt marks on the veranda were widely splayed out, as
from the feet of a man who was in a hurry, and again saw them, together
with a long, curling impression on the soil at the foot of the veranda,
showing where the criminal's feet had slipped. Nor was that all. One
could detect the spot where his hands had met the earth, together with a
deeper mark where the muzzle of the revolver he had used had buried
itself in the clay.

"Him sure enough, de blackguard!" growled Tom. "Now den."

Sam led them away from the house at a rattling pace, that caused Jim to
marvel. But the little fellow was no fool at the art of tracking, while
his eyes, usually so slothful in appearance, were now evidently very
sharp and observant. And if our hero thought at times that he was being
led on a wild-goose chase, Sam was always able to demonstrate that such
was not the case at all.

"Yo tink me not on de track?" he asked, after a while, when they paused
to gather their breath. "Well, den, see here. De same marks all de
while. Him run like a hare; him wonder if him followed. Soon we come to
de house where him hide. Den look out for fireworks. Him shoot like mad.
Sam know de sort ob fellow."

The mere suggestion caused our hero to stop and think a little. That a
dastardly attempt had been made to kill him he was now sure, and there
had crept into his memory, as he followed Sam, the incident aboard the
ship which seemed to have been the cause of this attempt on his life. He
recollected that a brutal-looking Spaniard, some forty years of age, had
rushed at him, and had been sent reeling backward. Then the man had
drawn a knife, and had come on again furiously. Jim now brought to his
mind his own behaviour. In the heat and turmoil of the contest, when it
seemed that the Spaniards would prove too strong for the captain's
party, and before the lusty Tom had put in an appearance, the man had
rushed furiously forward, and he (Jim) had met him with a terrible blow
of his fist. He had seen the ruffian fly backwards and tumble on his
back; then the arrival of Tom, and the forward movement of the whole
party had occupied all his thoughts, to the neglect of an incident which
seemed to be done with.

"And Sam thinks he'll shoot again. Shouldn't wonder," he said to
himself. "Still, there's no reason why I should funk following him. He
has to be apprehended, for otherwise he might try to shoot someone else
who had a hand in that fight. Get along, Sam," he called out cheerily.
"If there are fireworks we must deal with them. I'm game to tackle the
fellow again."

Tom looked round at him severely. "Yo's got to go extra careful, sah,
so yo hab," he said. "Dis fellow not care wheder yo white man; no, not
one little piece. He shoot yo down like a dog. Yo leab him to Tom."

"To a big hulking fellow like you! I like that," laughed Jim. "You'd
certainly be shot. You couldn't escape a bullet. But we'll see. If he's
to be found, we'll take him, however many bullets he may let off."

They pushed on again in wake of Sam, and followed the tracks at a
jog-trot. They led in the direction of Colon, and when near the
outskirts of the town, turned towards a hut lying to one side of the
road.

"Him dere fo shore," declared Sam, pointing. "You find him in de hut.
But mind what Sam say. Dis Spaniard not like to be taken. He shoot at
eberyone. Him blaze away widout looking to see who it am. Sah, better yo
stay away back here. Tom and Sam and Ching soon finish de hash of dat
ruffian."

It was comical and somewhat pathetic to watch their care of Jim, for Tom
and the Chinaman both joined with Sam in requesting our hero to remain
at a distance. But Jim was not the lad to shelter himself behind the
figures of such faithful fellows. Rather was he the one to place himself
in the van, to take all risks himself, so that those who obeyed his
orders should not be the ones to suffer. Besides, a leader should lead.

"Boys," he said, as if he had not heard them, "we'll surround that hut.
Tom at the front, Sam at the back, Ching on the far side, and I will
make for the window through which a light is shining. By the way, best
douse our lamps. They would show our position. And, another thing, if
that fellow rushes at us, or begins to fire, knock him down flat. Don't
be too easy with him. I've heard of these wild Spaniards before. Of
course they're not all the same as this one. Indeed, Mr. Barton tells me
that they are well-behaved as a rule. But this man seems to have a bee
in his bonnet, or he wouldn't think so much of that blow I gave him.
Anyway, if he rushes, knock him flat. Savvy?"

Ching grinned. The slothful-looking Chinaman enjoyed the thought of a
knockout blow, for this Oriental had been now so long resident in the
States of America that he had actually acquired some knowledge of the
art of boxing. He grinned widely, and began to wrap his swinging pigtail
about the top of his head. Sam's eyes bulged widely open; he looked
positively ferocious, and stared at the hut as if he wished the contest
had already begun. But Tom only laughed inaudibly, and rubbed the palms
of his big hands together.

"By de poker, but if him come up agin dat, him not know wheder him man
or monkey," he said, doubling an enormous fist. "Massa Jim, yo not tall
'nough to look in at de window. Better leave dat to Tom. Yo go to de
front; plenty chance of fightin' dere."

It was only another attempt of the big negro to place our hero out of
danger, and Jim promptly scouted the suggestion.

"You'll go to your stations right off," he commanded. "If I whistle, you
can come along and join me. The first thing to be done is to see if the
fellow is in there."

"Dat sartin; I know him dere. I ready to swear it," declared Sam.

"Then come along."

Without more ado Jim led the way, and presently, when they were within a
stone's throw of the hut, they separated, each to seek the position to
which he had been appointed. Jim himself stole on tiptoe towards the
window of the hut, and, having arrived at it, lifted his head inch by
inch, and, pulling off his cap, stared into the room. Then he bobbed
down again, and had circumstances permitted of it he would certainly
have whistled; for there were five men assembled in the hut, and one of
the number was undoubtedly the man for whom he and his friends had set
out, the one, in fact, who had that very evening attempted to kill him.
In a flash he recognized the ruffian. Then his eye ran swiftly round the
circle grouped about a rough plank table, on which bottles and glasses
were to be seen, and promptly the faces struck him as likenesses of
those he had observed the evening before on a slip presented to all
working on the canal. It was a police notification, and had been sent to
Phineas so that, in appointing European labourers, he might beware of
employing those whose portraits appeared. And Jim brought to memory the
words beneath the portraits.

"The police of the canal zone are in search of a number of men, amongst
them the above. It has come to their knowledge that a band of European
thieves has gathered in the neighbourhood, and several robberies of
Commission stores prove their arrival here. Any who recognize the above
should at once give notice of their whereabouts. From foreign official
sources we are informed that at least one of the men is a dangerous
criminal, wanted for acts of violence to the person."

"Phew!" Jim went hot all over. He recollected that Phineas had spoken to
him of these men, and had explained to him that it was not until after
their arrival on the isthmus that the police received a warning from
foreign parts.

"No doubt the fellows had made their last haunt too hot for them," he
explained, "so, hearing from their comrades that America had brought a
heap of valuable stores here, and that where there are workmen there
must also be, often enough, large sums of money with which to pay their
wages, these rogues came along to the isthmus, took posts with the gangs
of labourers, and then laid their plans to rob. One of our pay offices
was broken into and rifled a month ago. That put the police on the _qui
vive_. Then came a robbery at the far end of the canal. The culprits
were not discovered, but immediately afterwards the police received this
information from abroad, together with photographs."

"Which they publish here for the information of canal officials," said
Jim.

"Jest so," agreed Phineas. "And I suppose these rascals got to know that
their game was ended. Somehow they have means of their own of getting
information. Anyway, they disappeared, and weren't missed from amongst
the armies we employ. Reckon some of them got aboard that ship that you
and I took passage in. If that's so, they're back right here now,
waiting for another steamer."

If the whole truth had been known, the gang of desperadoes of whom the
Commission police had obtained information had indeed found the zone
already too hot for them. They were a band consisting sometimes of five
members, sometimes of more or less. And for a long while now their
attention had been particularly turned to ports near to the Gulf of
Mexico. Appearing to be but Spanish workmen, they escaped often enough
the attention of police officers, and had done so at Colon. There they
had contrived to burgle two of the pay offices, and, as Phineas had
rightly surmised, had sailed on the very steamer on which he and Jim had
taken passage. There, having come into contact with our hero, they had
met with a misfortune, which had brought them back to the isthmus.

"Just showing that it's here we're meant to do our work," had said the
leader of these rascals, a scowling individual boasting the name of
Jaime de Oteros, "See here, friends; the police of the zone are looking
for us amongst the labour gangs. We've dollars saved in plenty, and no
need to work; supposing we find some quiet place near at hand, and take
toll of another pay office."

"And first of all pay back the scores we owe," the rascal who had so
recently fired at Jim growled. "I've sworn to give back what I was given
aboard that ship, and since I believe the young pup who was so free with
his fists is staying on here, why, I'll finish him. Eh?"

His suggestion had met with the hearty approval of all. There was not a
man in the gang who would not do the same; for to these lawless fellows
a blow received demanded repayment. As to the risk, that was nothing.
They were accustomed to the feeling that their arrest was aimed at. If
theft could pass without actual discovery, then a shot in the night, and
the death of a white official, would equally escape detection.

"Five of them." Jim counted them off on his fingers as he again raised
his head. He squinted in through the corner of the window, and inspected
each one of the gang separately. And now he recognized them not alone
from the leaflet which he had seen, but from amongst the faces of the
Spaniards who had been aboard the steamer. Of an evening he had often
stood at the rail above and looked down into the waist of the vessel,
watching the dusky faces of the Spaniards, and scenting the rank odour
of the cigarettes they smoked. Features which then had made no great
impression on him, but which had, unconsciously as it were, been tucked
away within his memory, now struck him as familiar. Little by little he
recollected exactly where he had seen each man, and what he had been
doing, so that within the space of a few minutes he was sure that every
one of them had been aboard the steamer.

"And are now wanted by the police here," he thought, "while the fellow
sitting at the far end of the table is wanted more than them all, seeing
that he has attempted murder. But how to do it? There are five, and all
probably carry arms."

A second glance at the men persuaded him that there was little doubt on
the last matter; for the leader of these ruffians had placed his weapon
on the plank table before him, while a second was cleaning his revolver
with a piece of dirty rag. A third wore a belt, as could be clearly
seen, since he had discarded his coat, and carried both a revolver and a
huge knife attached to it.

"Ugly fellows to deal with, I guess," thought Jim. "The question is
this: ought we to attempt a rush? or ought we to set a watch on the
house and send for the police?"

Obviously, with only three to help him, the last suggestion was the one
to follow, and having pondered the matter for a little while Jim came to
a decision. Peeping in at the window again, he watched the men as they
rolled and lit cigarettes, or filled their glasses from the bottles on
the table, then he crept away to Sam, and with him went to join Tom. A
signal brought Ching to them promptly.

"Come away over here," said Jim softly. "I want to talk."

He led them into a thick belt of bush which had escaped the billhooks of
the Commission sanitary corps, for the reason that it stood on high
ground, and then came to a halt.

"Wall?" asked Tom, his face indistinguishable in the darkness, but his
tones eager. "He's right there, I reckon. He only wants taking?"

"He's there; but for the moment we can't easily take him. Listen here,"
said Jim. Then he explained that there were five men in the hut, and
that if he were right in his surmise, and his eyes had not misinformed
him, they were a gang of criminals of whom the police were in search.

"And all armed," he added. "I thought at first that we might rush them;
but even supposing they were not armed, one or more might escape. So I
guessed the best plan would be to send off for the police, while we
watch the place. Say, Sam, you could find the office in Colon?"

The little fellow nodded and gave a grunt of assent.

"Easy as cuttin' chips," he said. "What den?"

"Run there as fast as your legs will carry you, and tell them that we
have located the gang of men whose portraits they have been circulating
amongst the canal officials. Tell them of the attempt made to shoot me
to-night, and warn them to come along cautiously. Get right off. We'll
stand round the place till you come along."

Sam set down his lantern at once and disappeared in the darkness, making
hardly a sound as he went. Then Jim led the others back towards the hut.

"We'll take the same places," he said. "Of course, if they separate we
shall have to follow; but I rather think they live here. If that's so we
shall have them."

Waiting till both Tom and Ching had taken up their positions he crept
towards the hut, and, having reached the window, raised his head and
peeped in. None of the men had moved. The ruffian who had been handling
his revolver was still cleaning it with the dirty rag, while the man who
had come that evening to the house which Phineas occupied, and had
deliberately fired through the gauze window, was staring moodily at the
empty glass before him. The others were engaged in an eager
conversation, carried on in low tones. Jim put his ear as close as
possible, for though he knew only a few words of Spanish it was
possible that English was the language employed. Then he heard a sudden,
startled cry, and, looking in, saw that the rascal at whose arrest he
aimed had risen to his feet. The man was staring hard at the window, and
in a flash Jim realized that his own presence had been discovered. He
ducked swiftly, and as he did so there came the report of a pistol. An
instant later a bullet smashed the glass just overhead, smothering him
with debris. Then a babel of cries came from the hut, the door was
dragged open, and in a trice five men had thrown themselves upon him.




CHAPTER VII

The Lair of the Robbers


There are times in a man's life when he has no spare moments in which to
think, and this occasion may be said to have been one of those urgent
periods in that of our hero. For he had no time to do more than move a
yard from the window of the little hut located so close to Colon when
the door was flung open, and the five ruffians within burst from their
cover. Jim had hardly shaken the dust and debris of the shattered pane
of glass from his eyes when one of the men was on him. It was Jaime de
Oteros, the leader of the gang, a dark, forbidding-looking fellow, as
agile as a cat, and a desperado accustomed to scenes of violence.

"A spy! a spy!" he bellowed, catching sight of Jim; for the lamp within
the cottage cast its rays through the window and illumined his figure.
"Kill him! Down with him to the ground! Stamp on him!"

Quick as thought a blade flashed from his belt, and while Jim was still
almost blinded by the dust which was clinging to his eyes, the man
struck savagely at him. An instant later a sharp cry escaped from Jim's
lips, while he staggered back against the hut; for the dagger had
penetrated his left arm, high up near the shoulder.

"Wounded! This is serious. I am in a hole." The thoughts came to him
like a flash, while the urgency of the situation seemed to help to clear
his eyes. He could now see the villain who had attacked him quite
plainly, while, owing to his position close to the wall of the dwelling,
his own figure was in the dusk. And it was that fact alone which saved
his life; for had the rascal standing so close to him been sure of his
bearings that formidable blade would have descended again. Jim caught
the glint of the lamplight on it, and, stung by the pain in his shoulder
and by the danger of his position, he struck out fiercely with his
clenched fist, and as fortune would have it caught the rascal neatly
beneath the chin.

Crash! The man staggered backwards, breathing deeply, and a second later
cannoned into one of his comrades who was hurrying forward to support
him. He gave a low growl of rage, pulled himself together, and flung
himself on Jim again furiously.

"Dog of a spy! You struck me. Police or not, I will kill you."

There was a snarl in his tones, while the man's whole person bristled
with anger. But Jaime de Oteros was not the ruffian to miss a chance, or
spoil his own opportunities, because he was in a passion. Beneath his
smouldering rage the rascal kept a level head, and, watching Jim as well
as the darkness would allow him, threw himself forward with startling
swiftness. Bang! Crash! That terrible knife blade just missed its mark,
and passing over our hero's shoulder buried its point deeply in the
woodwork of the hut, so deeply, in fact, that Jaime had to pull hard to
release it. That effort again helped Jim; indeed it gave him an
opportunity he was quick to pounce upon. For out shot his right fist
again, and, striking square between the eyes, it sent Jaime hurtling
backwards.

"Keep off! I warn you that any further violence will lead to severe
punishment." Jim gasped the words, for the suddenness of the attack had
taken his breath away. But he was by no means cowed, and, being one of
those sharp, shrewd lads of which America is so justly proud, he
promptly decided to make use of the few seconds respite allowed by
Jaime's downfall. It was a case where force could not greatly avail him,
he told himself, as he stood at bay before the desperadoes, his back
close to the wall; but bluff might help him.

"I warn you," he said again. "Drop your knives and stand here against
the hut with your arms up. If not, I'll whistle to my men to shoot.
Yes," he said sternly, "my men, you are surrounded. Jaime de Oteros, the
game is up."

As if to support his statement there came a call at that instant, while
men could be heard hurrying towards the scene of the conflict. As for
the band of rascals, Jaime had, to be sure, been the first to encounter
Jim, but his comrades had been quick to support him. They would have
thrown themselves on the young fellow before this had there been space;
but the hut protected him in rear, while Jaime's swinging limbs kept
them at a distance in other directions. The lamp within the hut threw
its sickly beams on the figures of the rascals, showing their features
plainly, and letting Jim recognize at once the ruffian who had, earlier
on in the evening, fired at him so deliberately.

"Come, hands up!" he repeated sharply. "The man who is found with arms
on him when my men come on the scene will wish that he had never seen
us."

"Massa Jim, Massa Jim! what dat happenin'?" came through the darkness at
this moment. "I heard shots; dere was shoutin'. What fo, I want to
know?"

"It's that nigger of his," suddenly exclaimed one of the ruffians,
hearing Tom. "It's a blind, a big bluff! Down with him! Gee! Stand
aside, and see me shoot him!"

Shouts came from all five now, and as if by common impulse they cast
themselves in Jim's direction. And if he had remained in his old
position there is little doubt but that the gang would quickly have
crushed the life out of his body; but Jim was fully alive on this
eventful night. There was no drowsiness about him, as may be imagined,
seeing the danger in which he stood. The lamplight showed him the
staring faces of the villains in front of him, and their changing
expressions immediately after Tom had called. He saw their hands dive
down for knife or revolver, and quick as thought he darted to one side;
but, quick as he was, one of the gang was too swift for him. A hand fell
on his shoulder, fingers closed on his coat, while the ruffian made
frantic efforts to detain him.

"He is here! Here!" he shouted. "I have the slippery dog! Quick, one of
you, slit his throat, and have done with it!"

"Take that! Back with you! Tom, Tom!" Jim shouted for the negro, and a
second later struck at the rascal with both fists, sending him
staggering backwards; but the blows, sturdy and strong though they
were, could not keep off the other desperadoes. They closed round our
hero in an instant, and there began at once a conflict the severity of
which can hardly be described. The sallow rascal, who had so
deliberately attempted to murder him that same night, thrust his
comrades aside in his own anxiety to complete the work in which he had
so signally failed, and, raising his arm, fired his revolver at
point-blank range. However, close shots are not always the ones to kill.
The struggling men at the rascal's elbow disturbed his aim, while the
bullet buried itself harmlessly in the wall of the tumbledown dwelling
close to which the conflict was taking place. Then Jim did a clever
thing. He had dodged swiftly to avoid the shot; but an instant later he
darted forward, swung his right fist into the villain's ribs with such
force that the breath was driven out of his body, and immediately
afterwards wrenched the smoking weapon from his hand. It was his turn
now, and right well he took advantage of the opportunity.

"Hands up!" he commanded again, levelling the muzzle at Jaime de
Oteros's head. "Hands up instantly!"

They fell back from him as if he were infected with the plague, and the
same uncertain, flickering lamplight which had helped our hero before
now showed hesitation in their scowling faces; but it was only for the
moment. Let it be remembered that this gang was composed of men who had
been in many a scuffle and come out of them successfully, that one and
all were unscrupulous, and would as soon and as easily kill a man as
take the life of a fly. Was it wonderful that, seeing one youth alone
opposed to them, they regained some measure of courage? Jaime's lips
receded from his teeth in an ugly snarl, and, as if shot from a gun, he
darted at Jim, ducked beneath the levelled muzzle, and closed with him.

"Now you shall pay with your life, dog of a policeman!" he growled.
"This to end our quarrel."

He gripped Jim's right arm as if with a vice, pushing it upward. Then
the fingers of his left hand fell upon his chin and forced it backwards.

"Strike with your knife! Strike, fool!" he shouted to one of his
comrades. "He is helpless."

And helpless, in fact, Jim was, for a second villain had gripped him
from behind. He was just like a sheep held for the slaughter, and though
he struggled frantically he could make no impression on those who held
him; but Tom could. The lusty negro was not the one to be frightened by
a gang of double the strength, and coming upon the scene at this moment
he fell upon the men with the ferocity of a tiger. His first charge
scattered them, setting Jim free; then a dive to one side allowed him to
grip one of the rascals. In a trice he had him swinging at his full
arm's length above his head.

"By de poker, but dis fun!" he shouted, waving the man to and fro as if
he were merely a package. "Yo's tried to kill Massa Jim, heh? Yo go dere
den." He swished round as if he were poised on a pivot, his arms went
back, and in an instant he had thrown his burden against the wall of the
hut. That done, he dashed forward on the heels of Jim, and helped the
latter to secure Jaime de Oteros. As for the others, they melted away
into the darkness, and the last that was heard of them was the sound of
their quickly moving feet. But Ching reported that he had encountered
one of the rascals. Indeed, a minute later he came into the narrow
circle of light dragging one of the wretches with him, and giggling with
suppressed amusement.

"Him not see Ching," he explained with a guffaw. "Him comee runnin' ever
so fast. But Ching knowe him not a good man, and send him silly wid a
blow from dis stick. Oh, him hab a velly bad head to-mollow. Him so
velly solly him meet Ching."

"And him sorrier still when him come before de police bosses," exclaimed
Tom, gripping the arm of the leader of the gang so firmly that the man
howled. "What fo you make that to-do?" asked Tom, shaking Jaime as if he
were a rat. "Yo no cause to complain. Me hold yo tight, eh? Me hold yo
tighter still if yo not stop dat blather. By de poker, but dis fine,
Massa Jim! We've caught jest three of de ruffians, and see dem hanged,
strung up by de neck, dance tattoo in de air. Eh? Dat good for rascals."

Again he shook the unfortunate Jaime till the ruffian's teeth chattered
together, while the man was unable to retain his feet. That he was cowed
by the size and strength of his captor there was no doubt, for he made
no effort to retaliate or to escape. Instead, he hung listless, his
knife fallen at his feet, his left hand clutching at the fingers which
compressed his other arm with such painful tenacity.

"Put him there in the hut," said Jim, beginning now to breathe a little
more easily. "Ching, take your captive in too. Tom will watch him; if
they attempt an escape----"

[Illustration: JIM IN A TIGHT CORNER]

"Ha, ha! I like to see dat," cried the lusty negro, lifting Jaime from
his feet as if he were a child and beginning to carry him within the
hut. "By de poker, but I hope him will try to 'scape. Den yo see; Tom
smash um into a jelly. Tom make mincemeat of dis bag ob bones. Yo see;
Tom lob to kill um."

He swung the ruffian round till their faces were close together, and,
bending closer, bared his teeth and glared at the unfortunate fellow
till Jaime recoiled; for, when he liked, Tom could adopt the expression
of a demon.

"There; see him safely in the hut, and watch the two of them," cried
Jim, smiling even at such a moment, for he could not help but contrast
Tom's unusual exhibition of ferocity with his usual self. It was an
eye-opener even to him to see this mild-mannered negro so transformed;
and Jim, knowing the faithful fellow so well, realized that all his
anger and ferocity were assumed.

"Just to scare the ruffian," he thought, "and very thoroughly he has
done it, I guess. Now, let's see this other fellow."

He and Ching between them rolled the man whom Tom had cast against the
hut on to his back, and then carried him within the dwelling, where the
lamp gave them an opportunity of inspecting him.

"Bad luck!" cried Jim at once. "Neither of our prisoners is the one I
wished above all to capture. Still, we have accounted for three, and the
police will deal with the others. How long will it take them to arrive?"

"Anoder hour, sah," came from Tom immediately. "Me know de road. Dey
here about den. But no need to worry; dese blackguard son ob guns not
try any little game. Tom make himself happy."

To prove his coolness he dragged a pipe from his coat, filled it with
loose chippings which he carried in a pocket, and, stepping to the lamp,
held the bowl of the pipe over the flame. Then he puffed big clouds of
smoke into the air contained within the hovel, which, to be sure,
already reeked with the nauseous fumes of the cigarettes the gang of
ruffians had been smoking. Later Tom sat himself comfortably in a chair,
crossed one leg over the other, folded his arms, and regarded his
prisoners with an air of severity which caused them to cower, though
Jim, looking up at him, could distinguish the old twinkle in the negro's
eyes.

"By lummy! But s'pose we not wait fo de police," suggested Tom, removing
his pipe from his capacious mouth, and baring his fine white teeth in
the process. He leered at the two cowering men, and then looked round at
our hero. "S'pose save de time and labour ob de police, sah. Hang um
now. Plenty room in here, and dat beam jest in nice position. Gee! Fine
ting to watch dis scum dance de tatoo in de air. S'pose we get to wid
it."

There was an amiable smile on his lips now. He popped the pipe back
between his teeth, causing the latter to fasten upon the stem with a
click, and stared up at the blackened roof of the cottage. "Him bear de
weight ob both together, sah," he laughed. "But not be too fast. One at
time plenty much, so as have heap to laugh at. I'm gwine ter commence
wid dis blackguard."

He glowered upon Jaime de Oteros, the hardened villain who had led the
gang, and who, if the information of the Commission police were correct,
had more than once robbed his victims with unusual violence. "Him
biggest of de blackguards," said Tom reflectively. "Him gwine ter dance
on air fust of de lot."

He rose from his seat, laid his pipe on the table, and approached his
prisoner. And Jaime shrunk before him. From being a well-nurtured man, a
rascal who, by means of his depredations had been enabled to live on the
fat of the land and batten on other people's riches, the wretch, when
punishment faced him, shrivelled visibly, till his very stature seemed
to be dwarfed, his cheeks shrunken and hollow, and his rounded limbs but
half their former size. He grovelled upon the floor, whining for mercy.

"Stop!" cried Jim at once, thinking that Tom's fun had gone far enough.
"We will wait for the police, and let them do as they like. But it jest
about shows you the cravens these fellows are. Under the same sort of
circumstances this Jaime would not hesitate to bully his prisoners, I
guess; even to hang them outright. However, it is not our job to give
punishment; we'll leave that to the judges. Sit down and watch them."

"Watch dem! By lummy! but dat not necessary; not at all, sah," came the
answer from the negro. "Yo dere, yo blackguard. Yo go very careful, or
Tom do as him say, massa or no massa. Yo sabbey?"

He scowled at his prisoners till they crouched still lower, and then,
turning to Jim, leered again at him, cocking one eye wide open, while
the other closed. He was actually grinning, but the next instant, when
he reseated himself, and again pulled at his pipe, the eyes which
regarded the rascals cowering against the wall were savage.

"Now," said Jim, "lend a hand here, Ching. This fellow is badly knocked
about. Bruised all over and stunned I should say: not dead."

The Chinaman wrapped his pigtail round his head, and secured it in
position with a pointed piece of stick which he carried about his person
for that very purpose. Then he bent over the man whom Tom had dealt so
harshly with, and, chuckling all the while, proceeded to examine him
minutely.

"Not one little bone ob him brokee, sah," he said. "But plenty fine
upset. Got de headachee velly badly. To-mollow, when him wake up, oh him
so velly ill. Him groan ever so much. Him giddy and velly sick, and him
wish eber so much him neber been a rascal, and neber met dat great big
nigger dere. Him tink him one big black debil. Him hate Tom."

"He! he! he! Ho! ho! ho!" came in uproarious tones from the huge negro
seated at the table, smoking so comfortably. Then Tom suddenly became
very serious.

"Yo Chinee boy," he cried, "yo son ob yellow gun, yo listen here. Tom
not like serve a man same as dat always. Him very gentle as a rule. But,
by de poker, when a villain try to shoot and cut de throat of Massa Jim,
den time to do tings! Not time to talk. Dat come afterwards. De man dere
sorry in course dat he met me; but dat altogether his fault, I guess.
He shouldn't hab laid a hand on de young massa. Now yo dere, in de
corner, what yo squintin' outer de door for? You tink get away. By de
poker, show you dat! Beat you into squash and jelly!"

He switched the conversation round to his prisoner, for Jaime was
staring out through the door of the hut, as if he had intentions of
making a dash for liberty. But Tom's voice brought him to his senses.
The man--a Spaniard by his appearance, but one evidently long departed
from his own country, and well able to speak and understand
English--shrivelled up into his corner, while into his black, beady eyes
there came a hopeless expression, the expression to be met with on the
face of a condemned criminal who knows he is past relief. It seemed
evident, too, that Jaime was in that position, for a little while after,
while Jim was bathing the face of the man who lay unconscious on the
floor, a force of Colon police arrived, and quickly took affairs into
their own hands. A smart officer entered the hut without ceremony.

"Huh!" he exclaimed, when he had taken a swift glance round. "The
watchin' ended in a ruction, that's evident. Who's that?"

He stepped to the table, leaned both hands on it, and stared into the
corner where the prisoners cowered. Tom coolly removed his pipe from
between his lips, nodded to the officer, and then turned on Jaime.

"Dat?" he asked, pointing with the stem of his pipe. "Oh, dat a very
brave prisoner dat try to kill Massa Jim, and now very sorry! Stand up
dere, yo in de corner. Stand up, or, by lummy, Tom want to know what fo!

"Now den," continued Tom, when the wretch had risen to his feet,
shivering with fright. "Who am yo?"

"That don't matter one single brass pin ter me," ejaculated the officer
suddenly, his colour heightening, his voice taking on a tone of
exultation. "Reckon it's my business to know who every criminal is.
Jaime de Oteros, you're badly wanted. Guess there's a score of charges
up against you. Boys, jest come in here."

He put his fingers to his lips and sent forth a shrill whistle, which
instantly brought a couple of policemen into the hut.

"Handcuffs for 'em both," said the officer shortly. "Search 'em for
weapons. Now then, siree?"

He turned on Jim serenely, and extended a hand. "Tell me all about it.
Of course the darkie you sent along got to work and poured a whole heap
of stuff into my ear as we ran here. Guess I know who you are, where you
come from, and the very first day you ever had measles. There ain't many
young chaps around same as Massa Jim."

There was a broad smile on his face, and the grip he gave our hero was
unusually cordial. "Gee!" he went on; "a real good coloured servant is a
thing to be proud of. Reckon you've two. You're jest about lucky. Those
boys think all the world of you, and I've been too long amongst them not
to have learned that there's always a good reason when things are like
that. You've got to be extra good and plucky and all that. But let's get
to business. What happened?"

Jim told him abruptly. "It was precious near a case with me," he smiled.
"This fellow Jaime did his best to kill me. That's a reminder; he stuck
his knife through my shoulder."

Strange to say he had forgotten the matter, and till now had had but
little pain. But now he recollected, and, slipping off his jacket,
exposed his arm high up near the shoulder. The officer at once inspected
the wound, while Tom, and Sam, who had now arrived upon the scene, bent
over him anxiously.

"Not enough to stop you enjoying a single meal," declared the officer.
"Little more than skin deep, and made by a knife that had cleaned itself
as it passed through your clothing. A dressing put there right away will
fix the matter for good. Thomas," he sang out. Then, as another man
appeared, dressed in Commission uniform: "see here, my lad, we want that
first-aid case of yours. Get to work at this gentleman's shoulder. Now,
sir," he went on, "you can continue the tale while Thomas is busy. These
fellows tried to murder you. You had surrounded the place, I understand,
and had sent Sam there back into Colon. Wall, now, what next?"

In a few words Jim described how one of the rascals had detected him as
he looked in through the window. How the ruffian, the same who had fired
at him earlier in the evening, had again narrowly missed striking him
with a bullet, and how the whole five had then thrown themselves on him.

"Here's the result of it all," he ended. "I should have been killed but
for Tom. But he arrived just in the nick of time. We took three
prisoners between us; two have managed to get away."

"And that man who fired at you?" asked the officer.

"He is one of the two escaped."

"Then there's a chase before us. You'll come right along to the office,
sir, where we can talk matters over. Wait while I see these rascals
handcuffed to my men. But let me congratulate you and your men, sir. You
did as well as any police could have done, and you showed no end of
pluck. Boys, get to with those prisoners. Four of you can carry the man
who's insensible. Two each to the others will be enough. Bring 'em
along, boys. This is a fine evening for the police of Colon."

That the capture of three of these notorious ruffians was indeed a
matter for congratulation was brought still more forcibly to Jim's mind
some little time later; for, having trudged into Colon, the whole party
entered the offices of the Police Commissioner there, and came face to
face with that gentleman. He had been hurriedly aroused, and had at once
turned out of his bed to learn what had happened. His eyes lit up with a
smile as the officer who had gone to the scene of the capture introduced
Jim.

"Very glad to meet you, sir," said the Commissioner. "Now tell me all
about it. This, of course, will be only a preliminary enquiry; I shall
remand the prisoners to the cells, and their case will be taken later.
Then, of course, I shall require your evidence, and that of your men.
Please state who you are?"

"James Partington, sir; from New York."

"Lately arrived, eh?"

"No, sir. Been cruising in the Caribbean with a salvage plant. Then took
a passage to New York. There was a collision, and a number of Spaniards
aboard the ship fought for the boats. I--er--I helped the----"

"Pardon, I recollect. Shake hands, sir."

The officer leaned over his desk and gripped Jim's fingers, while a most
friendly smile played across his lips. "Of course, I recollect," he
said. "The matter was published in the paper. Seen the article?"

Jim shook his head. "I haven't had much time," he said. "There have been
so many things to do since I arrived in the zone."

"Then your ears will burn, my lad. The man who wrote that account put
the plain truth forward. He had interviewed the captain and his men. Mr.
James Partington seems to have been the hero of the occasion."

He laughed outright, seeing Jim flush to the roots of his hair, and then
became serious again.

"There, forgive my chaff," he said. "But you behaved handsomely, Mr.
Partington. Now tell me how this other matter cropped up."

Jim told him in as few words as possible. "You see," he said lamely, "I
couldn't very well help myself. I stayed on in the zone, and Mr. Phineas
B. Barton promised to obtain work for me. I had a turn with one of the
steam diggers, and it was arranged that I should be appointed to work
one. I went back to Mr. Barton's quarters this evening----"

"Last night, you mean," interrupted the officer with a smile. "It is now
2.30 in the morning."

Jim was startled. The hours had simply flown, and he could hardly
realize that so much time had elapsed since he set off from his
quarters. "I had no idea," he murmured. "But yesterday evening, to be
accurate, I was sitting in the parlour with Mr. Barton when a man shot
at me through the gauze window."

"At you? How do you know that?" The question came like a pistol shot.

"I guess it. I am not absolutely sure. I may be wrong, but you will hear
my reasons. We set out in pursuit. Sam there," and he nodded to the
little negro who was following the interrogation with shining eyes and
wide-open ears--"Sam tracked the fellow. He took us to a hut in which a
light was burning. We surrounded it. I went to the window, and
recognized one of the men as a Spaniard who had been aboard the ship,
and whom I had knocked down in the fight. He had, apparently, just
joined his fellows. There were five in all."

"Points to his being the man who shot at you, and to you being the one
at whom he fired. To-morrow we'll settle it. Sam there will follow the
tracks if he can."

It was amusing to see the little negro's eyes open wide. There was an
expression almost of a feeling of injury about them.

"What dat, sah?" he demanded. "Sam not able to follow track? I like dat,
I do. Sam start tracking when him so high." And he placed a hand a
couple of feet from the floor, much to the amusement of all. "Sam larn
to track way down in de south. Dat rubbish villain leave heap of mark.
Plenty soft ground. To-morrow--to-day, sah, I tink, 'cos it's past
midnight--to-day Sam pick up de mark and tell you plenty quick who it am
and what happened."

"Then that'll fix the matter. What next?" asked the officer.

"I recognized one of the gang as a man whose photograph had been
published; in fact, I recognized them all. I remembered the name, Jaime
de Oteros. Then I reckoned we had made a find and that you would like to
hear. I sent Sam away, and--and there you are."

"Pardon, there we are certainly not yet awhile. I was asleep at the
time. Kindly proceed, sir."

Jim answered the officer's encouraging smile by giving him an account of
the fight, while the eager Tom burst in with an interruption from time
to time.

"Me wanted to hang um quick," he explained. "But Massa Jim angry, scowl
at Tom, say tings beneath him breath."

It was pure invention; Jim swung round upon the negro with flashing
eyes. But who could be angry with Tom? The fellow's face was wreathed in
smiles. His merry features were divided by a wide seven-foot rift,
extending from ear to ear, and displayed a double set of teeth which
would have been a paying advertisement for a dentist.

"The long and the short of it is this, sir," said the officer. "You and
your very eager friends have done the police a great service, for which
we are deeply grateful. Now, I will take formal evidence of identity,
and send the prisoners to the cells. I advise that you all go back to
your quarters by a roundabout route, so as not to spoil tracks. I will
send a couple of men to the hut to keep people away. At eight o'clock I
will call upon you, when we will go into the question of the tracks and
discuss what is to be done. The escape of those two rascals means a
chase. We cannot afford to lose them now that we have captured three."

He leaned over and shook hands with Jim. Then, with a pleasant nod, he
banished the party to bed. Taking the lamp, Sam lit it and led the way,
and very soon they were back at their quarters, there to meet with
Phineas's eager questions. At eight o'clock that morning, when Jim
imagined that he had hardly enjoyed half an hour's sleep, the Police
Commissioner appeared, and very soon it became evident that the canal
works would not see our hero yet awhile. In fact, there was another
adventure before him.

"We're going to follow those rascals," said the officer. "I'd like you
to come along, for you can recognize them. Of course it'll be dangerous.
The fellows are armed; I'm not disguising that from you. Are you game to
come?"

Was Jim game? He laughed at the officer's caution.

"See here, sir," he said with a smile, "guess I'm not one of the police,
and thief catching isn't in my work, but I've a personal stake here. If
this man ain't apprehended I stand to be shot at any time. Besides,
every American citizen wants to help the police. It's a duty; of course
I'm game."




CHAPTER VIII

In Hot Pursuit


"From information received, a small steam launch put out from the Bay of
Limon at the first streak of dawn, and steamed towards the east," said
Major Pelton, the police officer who had interrogated Jim at night,
putting on his most official voice for the occasion. "It was not hired;
it was seized by a couple of men. They found the boat lying alongside
the staging, ready to take a party out to a hulk we have lying off the
coast. They stole her."

"Proof positive that they are the men we are after," ventured Jim,
throwing himself back in the well of the little motor launch in which he
and his comrades found themselves.

"It's sartin'," came from Sam, his eyes shining brightly, as was usual
when he was at all excited.

"Precisely; proof positive, as you say. The useful Sam tracked the man's
steps to your quarters from that hut. Then back again, and finally,
after a detour in some scrub, where no doubt he remained hidden with his
comrade, straight down to Port Limon. We are on the right track; but it
will be difficult to adhere to it."

The officer glanced round at the occupants of the launch, and found
little to encourage him. True, provided his party could come up with
the escaped criminals, it was highly probable that they would be taken;
for the handsome launch with which the American Canal Commission had
provided its Colon people carried, besides the officer and Jim, three
members of the Colon police force, fully armed, as well as Tom, Sam, and
Ching.

"You had better bring them all along," the Major had said, when
discussing the matter. "Tom is a lusty fellow, and evidently full of
pluck, while Sam is a first-class tracker. Some of those negroes one
gets from the southern States are extremely quick and skilful, and he is
amongst them. Ching, you say, is a good cook."

"Cookee fo ebelybody, sah; make de stew, boil de kettle. Plenty good
cookee Ching makee," had been the response of the wily Chinee when he
heard of the proposition.

So it turned out that all the friends were together again, armed with
rifles on this occasion, and aboard a fine motor launch.

"Thirty horse-power, gasolene motor," explained the Major. "There's not
another craft in these waters which can outstrip her. In fact, if only
we can trace those ruffians, we shall have them nicely. Now, sir, you've
had to do with motors; can you manage for us?"

Fortunately a gasolene motor was one of those things which had always
attracted our hero from the first moment he had been able to comprehend
its action; and it chanced, seeing that much of his time had been spent
in seaports, or closely adjacent thereto, he had had many opportunities
of studying the marine variety. Immediately he put foot aboard this
launch he had stooped over the half-covered-in engine, and had examined
it with a friendly and observant eye.

"Yes," he responded instantly, his eye brightening; "yes, Major, I can
run her, I guess. Thirty horse-power! I reckon we shall move along
quick. What about gasolene store?"

"Ample aboard. Her tanks are full; I saw to that at the first moment.
She has been handed over to us fully equipped, with rations aboard
sufficient for a week. I had only to collect men and ammunition. Now,
sir."

Jim had already started his engine, and at the word he pushed over his
gear lever, retarded the engine a little, and sent the boat gently
heading out to sea.

"Due east," said the Major.

"Due east it is, sir," responded Jim promptly.

"And run up alongside any boat you may see in our course. We must make
every enquiry."

It was a sensible plan to pursue, for all that the party was sure of was
the fact that the miscreants they were in search of had steamed out to
sea from the Bay of Limon, and had taken an easterly course. Beyond that
fact there was nothing to direct them. Nor were they fortunate in
obtaining information till late that afternoon, when they sighted a
coaster lazily sailing parallel with the low-lying, muddy shore.

"Have I seed anything of a steam launch hereabouts?" repeated the
skipper, a typical Yankee, waddling to the rail of his boat as the
launch came alongside. "See here, siree, I observed a launch jest sich
as you ask fer steaming easy along the coast twenty mile back of this.
She was kinder heading in to find a port. There's lagoons way long
there, and, mebbe she's got right into one of 'em. You don't happen to
be wantin' the folks aboard?"

He cocked his eye in a knowing wink, and regarded the uniform of the
policeman.

"I reckon not," he continued garrulously. "But ef you was--only ef you
actually was wantin' 'em--why, I'd get peepin' in at every little hollow
with that 'ere queer craft of yourn. Say, what are she? Gasolene?"

The Major nodded. "Thirty horse-power," he said. "Runs well."

"Jest a daisy! Wish I was aboard her instead of this old scow. But I'm
too old fer the game. Slow and steady's my motto. Goody to yer."

He helped to push the launch away from the side of his vessel with a
long pole, and then stood watching her as she went away through the
water, leaving a long, white trail behind her. As for Jim and his
friends, they ran in closer to the shore, and, since the light would
soon be failing, speeded up their engine and pushed ahead at a pace
which was decidedly smart.

"Six or seven knots faster than the steam launch can make," said the
Major. "If only we can sight the spot where they have put in before
darkness comes, we ought to make short work of them to-morrow. In any
case we must discover some sort of haven in which to lie to-night."

But, search as they might, it was already dusk before Tom's sharp eyes
hit upon an opening on the flat, dismal coast.

"Fresh water come down dere," he cried, after a while, staring
coastward. "Water blue and clean, not same as dis hereabouts. By lummy,
but dere a riber in dere, where we can lie fo to-night. Den boil de
kettle, cook de meal, hab little sing-song."

"I don't think so," exclaimed Jim at once. "If we make a port there'll
be no singing, especially from a noisy fellow such as you are. But I
believe he's right, Major; the water does seem clearer here. Probably a
stream running into the sea."

"Then we'll explore. We can't venture farther along in any case, and it
will be dark even now before we enter unless we hurry. Push her along,
my lad; but go easy as we get close in."

Thanks to the fact that the gasolene launch drew but a couple of feet of
water, there was no need for extreme caution; and, besides, the coast
thereabouts was practically free of rocks. Still, there was mud, mud in
abundance, and were the launch to run hard upon it she would stick in
that position, so arresting further pursuit.

"Easy now!" commanded the Major, after a while, when the land was close
at hand, and a thick fringe of tropical vegetation within close range.
"There's the river entrance; narrow enough in all conscience. Take her
along to the centre, Jim, and be ready to reverse if I give the order."

He went clambering along past his men till he sat right forward, the
diminutive Sam joining him there, as if he thought he needed help. In
fact, but for the little fellow's sharp eyes they would certainly have
brought the expedition to an abrupt conclusion, for a huge sunken tree
blocked a goodly portion of the river channel just at its exit into the
sea.

"Hold dere!" shouted Sam, raising both hands. "Back um! Yo see dat snag
down dar, sah? Him rip de bottom out ob us quick as noting. Break um up,
send de boat to Davy Jones, and all ob us to the sharks or crocodiles.
Back um, Massa Jim!"

"He's right! I can see it now--a huge tree," sang out the Major. "That's
very awkward. Seems to prove that we are on the wrong track."

"'Spose yo gib Sam de painter, den swim or wade ashore. Easy pull de
launch right up to de tree, den see wheder we can get past um. If too
much in de way, den put Tom oberboard. Him lift de tree away. If
crocodile dere, no matter; Tom very good to eat."

The little man grinned at the big negro, while the latter shook an
enormous fist at him, and bared his teeth in just that same manner as
had had such effect upon Jaime de Oteros. But Sam recked little of the
signal.

"Yo one big, hulkin' nigger, yo," he grinned. "Yo eat wonderful nice and
tasty."

Meanwhile Jim had been careful to reverse his engine, and lay with his
machinery out of gear, awaiting further orders.

"Steady ahead! just a few revolutions!" commanded the Major. "Enough!
That has brought us right up to the tree. Now, can one pass by it?"

The dusk was already falling outside, while here, beneath the trees
which clung in luxuriant profusion to the banks on either side of the
entrance to the river, it was already so dark that a white man was
troubled. Neither the Major, nor Jim, nor the policemen, could detect
much of their surroundings, but in the case of Sam it might have been
brilliant daytime. He peered over the edge of the launch, then flopped
full length on to the tiny deck she carried forward, and, pushing
himself over the side, finally gripped the tree with one hand, his
weight suspended between the latter and the launch. A startled cry came
from him, a cry which brought Tom labouring up beside him.

"Yo hurt yoself?" he demanded abruptly. "Hi, yo, Sam, what de matter?"

"Massa Jim, we got um! We bottled dem men up fine and safe. Dey good as
hanged. Dey jest as well might be dancin' on thin air at dis very
instant."

Sam ignored t

Showing first 200,000 characters. Full text: gutenberg.org/ebooks/41767