CHAPTER III.
THE SHADOW OF TREACHERY.
"What's our next billet going to be, matey?" inquired Dick Ferral,sprawling out comfortably on top of the long locker in the periscoperoom.
Matt was just coming down the ladder after putting the riding lights inposition.
"Wish I knew, Dick," he answered, switching on the incandescent in theperiscope room and dropping down on a low stool.
"I had a dream last night," and Dick gave a short laugh as he spoke."I was doing as sound a caulk as ever I did in my life when that dreamjumped in on me, and it was so blooming realistic that it brought me upin my bed with a yell."
"You must have been eating _chili con carne_, or some of the other hotstuff they have down here, before you went to bed. The peppery grubthey give you in Belize would make a wooden Indian have the nightmare!But what was it, old chap? You've got me interested."
"It was about Fingal."
"Fingal?"
"Aye, matey, Captain Abner Fingal of the schooner _North Star_, thehooting, tooting old revolutionist, and brother of Captain Jim Sixty,who's now, I hope and believe, doing time in a United States' federalprison."
"Fingal," observed Motor Matt, "is a tough old proposition to dreamabout."
"I won't forget in a hurry how he crossed our hawse, down there on theRiver Izaral, or how you came up under our gasoline launch with thegood old _Grampus_, tipped over the launch, and released the prisonersand pulled them out of the drink. Fingal and one of the rebel soldiersgot away from us by the skin of their teeth. Do you remember how, whenFingal reached the bank, he got up on his knees and shook his fistafter us?"[A]
[A] See No. 16 of the MOTOR STORIES, "Motor Matt's Quest; or, ThreeChums in Strange Waters."
"I'll not forget that in a hurry," said Matt. "If Fingal could have hadus in his hands then we'd have experienced a little more trouble thanwe could have taken care of. But what's the dream?"
"Well, I thought I was adrift in a big forest, with Fingal and a lot ofrevolutionists hustling after me, full and by and forty knots, all withmachetes. General Pitou, the French leader of the revolutionists, waswith Fingal, and the whole pack of them had machetes in each hand andanother between their teeth. Finally they caught me, and I was hackedin pieces----"
"Mighty pleasant, that!" grinned Matt.
"They hung my head up in a tree," proceeded Dick grewsomely, "and whenI saw the rest of me scattered over the ground underneath, my nerveswent to pieces and I fetched a yell that ought to have raised theroof. Strike me lucky, but I was in a sweat! We're not done with AbnerFingal, mate. He'll foul our course before we're many days older."
"I don't take any stock in dreams. They always come from a fellow'sstomach--something he eats that disagrees with him. As for Fingal, youcan bet he'll not come to Belize. He'd like to play even with us, allright, but he has got sense enough not to run his head into a noose."
Speake, Gaines and Clackett were stowing supplies in another part ofthe boat. From time to time, as the boys talked, muffled thumps and asound of distant voices came to them. Cassidy, the mate, was ashore,taking care of the sick captain.
"What's the latest news from Nemo, Jr.?" queried Dick. "The lastI heard was this morning. The captain wasn't so well then, DoctorArmstrong told me."
"I saw Cassidy just before we started for the landing to come out tothe submarine," said Matt. "He said the doctor was sure the captainwould pull through, but that he would need careful nursing, and not bebothered with business of any kind."
"Cassidy will give him the right kind of nursing! I never saw ashellback that was so handy in the sick bay, nor who tried to do more.Nemo, Jr., ought to forgive Cassidy for his treachery, down there onthe Izaral."
"The captain will do that, I'm sure. Cassidy is mighty sorry he allowedhis temper to run away with him. Fingal was responsible for whatCassidy did."
"Fingal and the grog," commented Dick. "A few tots of rum will makepirates and beach combers out of a lot of honest men. But why are yougetting all these supplies aboard, mate? We're loaded to the marks withprovisions, gasoline, oil, and everything else."
"You know, don't you," returned Dick, "that Captain Nemo, Jr., isplanning to sell the _Grampus_ to the United States government?"
"Aye, aye. The captain has had that bee in his bonnet for a long time."
"When we went down the coast and rescued the American consul fromthe revolutionists, it was at the instigation of the United Statesauthorities. Of course, they were anxious to have the consul rescued,but they were equally anxious to see what the _Grampus_ could do."
"Well, we showed 'em!" said Dick proudly. "The little old flugee, andevery one aboard, did themselves proud! What else does your governmentwant, matey?"
"I don't know as the government wants anything else, but I have thoughtit best to keep the _Grampus_ in trim for any demand that should bemade on her. Any time, now, I'm expecting to see the U. S. cruiser_Seminole_ stick her nose in the bay with orders for the _Grampus_to get under way for the Potomac, bound for Washington. If the ordercomes, it must find us in the pink of condition."
"Suppose the order comes before the captain gets well?"
"Then the chances are he'll ask us to carry out the order for him.We're in pretty good shape to do that, even without the assistance ofCassidy. Our little crew of six can manage the craft, all right. Carlhas been taking lessons from Clackett and can look after the tank roomalmost as well as Clackett himself; and you have learned to run themotor in a way that has made a hit with Gaines."
"We'll do, matey," said Dick, with a long breath of satisfaction. "Withyou as skipper, I wouldn't be afraid to ride in the _Grampus_ fromhere to the North Pole. Speaking of Carl, though, what's become of thelubber? He cut his cables mighty sudden, seems to me."
"He borrowed a guitar from a fellow in the hotel," laughed Matt.
"A guitar? What does that mean?"
"I shouldn't wonder if he had gone off to serenade somebody."
Dick rolled over on his back and kicked the locker with his heels.
"Oh, my eye!" he sputtered. "It's Ysabel Sixty! Carl's been gone inthat quarter for some time." Suddenly Dick hoisted up on his elbow andpeered at his chum. "What do you say, mate? Let's go ashore and slantaway for the place where Ysabel is staying. We can look over the fenceand jolly our Dutch messmate just as he gets tuned up. How about a bitof a lark?"
"I'll go you!" chuckled Matt, "but there's no use starting for two orthree hours yet. Midnight is the witching hour."
"Carl's showing good taste, anyhow," continued Dick. "Ysabel Sixty isa fine girl. Now that her father, Jim Sixty, is put where he can'tinterfere with her, she's going to be happier than she ever was before.But Carl is off soundings. The lass hasn't an eye for him, matey, butfor _you_."
"Oh, splash!" grunted Matt.
"That's right--flog the cat. But it's a fact, all the same. The lasshas taken a fancy to you, Matt, and you wouldn't turn your head tolook at the handsomest girl that ever walked. Gasoline motors are yourhobby. An explosive engine will be your best girl till the end of thechapter."
Matt enjoyed this. Dick had a way, now and then, of giving a subject ahumorous turn that was highly diverting. Just as Matt was on the pointof giving some jesting reply, a voice came to them from without.
"Ahoy, de _Grampus_! Tumble out an' pass us a line!"
Both boys gained their feet on the instant.
"That's Sambo with his sailboat!" exclaimed Dick. "He's bringingvisitors. Nice time, this, to receive callers from Belize."
"Perhaps it's Carl coming back," answered Matt, halfway up the ironladder toward the conning-tower hatch.
"If it is," went on Dick, laying hold of the ladder, "then our fun forto-night is knocked in the head."
As soon as Matt got his head out of the hatch he saw a small sailboathove to alongside the submarine. There were several men in her, and twowere standing forward and aft to catch the ropes they were expecting tobe thrown. Because of the evening dusk it was im
possible to distinguishthose in the boat, but it was plain that the craft was the one whichthe crew of the _Grampus_ used for going ashore.
A dark shadow was thrown by the boat against the lighter background ofwater--a hovering, ominous shadow of treachery--all the more ominousbecause neither of the chums were suspecting underhand work there inthose peaceable waters off the British town of Belize.
Motor Matt's Close Call; or, The Snare of Don Carlos Page 4