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Motor Matt's Close Call; or, The Snare of Don Carlos

Page 9

by Stanley R. Matthews


  CHAPTER VIII.

  THE DON'S PROPOSAL.

  Before the don could follow Fingal's suggestion and unburden himselfof what he wanted to say, the splash and gurgle of water entering thesubmersion tanks reached the ears of those in the steel room. At thesame moment a shiver ran through the boat's fabric and she began tosink.

  "What are you doing?" demanded Matt sharply.

  "Going under the water," explained the don affably. "We're off PortLivingston and are going to proceed up the Izaral without being seen."

  "What's that for? If the town and the fort are in the hands of therebels, you won't have anything to fear."

  "We don't know whether the rebels have captured the fort yet or not,"said the don, "and we don't want to take any chances of being sunk bythe fort's guns in case they are still in the hands of the enemy."

  "If you don't know anything about this boat," said Matt, "you'll get usall into trouble trying to maneuvre it."

  "Gaines an' Clackett, I guess," put in Fingal, "'ll keep us fromgettin' inter any very serious fix. They're helpin' run the craft, yeknow," and Fingal leered cunningly. "Go ahead, don," he added, as thesubmarine halted its downward plunge and started onward again.

  "Motor Matt," said the don, "I have a proposition to make to you andyour men. You will find it to your interest, I think, to accept it."

  "What's the proposition?" asked Matt curtly.

  The more Motor Matt studied Don Ramon, the more puzzling the manbecame. His English was good, and yet he was undeniably of Spanishdescent. Somehow Matt was gathering the idea that the don was a nativeof Central America, and not of Spain; yet Matt knew that this couldnot be, for he had heard that the Spanish consul at Belize hailed fromBarcelona.

  "My friend, Fingal," proceeded the don, "appears to think that you andyour men owe him something on account of what happened during yourformer visit to the River Izaral, and----"

  "So they do!" growled Fingal, with a savage frown; "they owe mesomethin' not only on account o' that, but on account o' my brother,Jim Sixty. If it hadn't been for them, Jim would never have got nabbedby the United States' gov'ment for filibusterin'. I swore I'd git evenwith 'em for----"

  "Forget that for a little, Fingal," interposed the don. "I've reasonedwith Fingal," he went on to Matt, "and he has agreed to let bygones bebygones, providing you fall in with our plans."

  He paused, his piercing eyes on the young motorist's face.

  "I'm waiting to hear what your plans are," said Matt.

  "We captured this boat for the revolutionists," continued the don, "andshe will be of great help to General Pitou in his work; but, in orderto be as efficient as possible, the craft ought to be manned with herregular crew. So----"

  "Then that story you told us about General Mendez, and about the trapPitou was laying for him, was untrue?"

  "Much of it was not the exact truth," the don cheerfully admitted."General Mendez and his force are not far from the Purgatoire River,but it is he who is laying the trap for Pitou, and not Pitou for him.General Pitou will have to capture the fort at the mouth of the Izaraland be able to turn its guns on General Mendez, or the loyalist forceswill drive the rebels into the sea. In order to keep track of Mendez,we need the submarine for scout duty up and down the river. Now, MotorMatt, you are thoroughly familiar with the boat, and our proposal isthat you and your men take charge of her and render gallant service forGeneral Pitou. Some of our men, of course, will stay on the boat tomake sure that you prove faithful to your promises to us, but that willbe a mere formality.

  "If you will do this, I promise to pay you the sum, in gold, that Imentioned when talking to you in the harbor at Belize. Furthermore, inthe event that General Pitou's uprising is successful, and we make himdictator of the country, you and your friends will share liberally inthe division of the spoils. What do you say? You are young men--mereyouths, in fact--and such a golden prospect ought to appeal to you."

  Matt stared at the don.

  "And you," he breathed, "are the Spanish consul at Belize! What wouldhappen to you if they knew, in Spain, how you are meddling with theaffairs of a country with which your own is at peace?"

  The don laughed.

  "I might just as well puncture that bubble here and now," said he. "Iam not Don Ramon Ortega, the Spanish consul, but Don Carlos Valdez, therevolutionist."

  Matt started back.

  "Don Carlos Valdez!" he exclaimed.

  "Now, sink me!" cried Dick. "We heard about you in Belize, Don Carlos."

  "And what do they say about me in Belize? asked the don.

  "Why, that you're the greatest rascal unhung!"

  "They say more than that," added Speake wrathfully, "and that you'll_be_ hung, one o' these fine days."

  Speake was chagrined and spiteful because of the way he and his mateshad been taken in by the plausible revolutionist at the start off. Hesaw, now, how farsighted Motor Matt was in refusing to have anything todo with the don.

  Carlos Valdez smiled ironically.

  "What they say doesn't make any material difference," he answered. "Ihave been in Belize for a week. I walked the streets openly, and no onedared to molest me. Why, I even went to the Spanish consul and askedfor a passport. While he was preparing to make it out, I felled himwith a blow and left him bound and gagged in his own sitting room. Ihad to do that, you see, before I dared to call on you, Motor Matt, andimpersonate him."

  "At any rate," said Motor Matt, "I am glad of one thing."

  "And that is?"

  "That Don Ramon Ortega is not the villain I know you to be."

  "Your opinion counts for as little as does that of the people ofBelize," returned the don easily. "You have not answered my question asto whether you and your men would accept our proposal."

  "I didn't think it was necessary to answer it," said Matt. "I wouldblow up the _Grampus_ before I would allow her to fall into the handsof General Pitou."

  "Better think well before you make a foolish answer like that," struckin Fingal.

  "That's my answer, just the same."

  "How about the rest of you?" and the don turned to Dick and Speake.

  "What Motor Matt says matches my sentiments to a dot," replied Dick.

  "Mine, too," added Speake. "If me and my mates had obeyed Motor Mattlike we'd ought to have done, we'd never have got into this fix in thefirst place. It may be a little late in the day, but here's where Ibegin carryin' out his orders jest as he gives 'em."

  "Do you know what this decision means?" queried the don gravely.

  "I'm not thinking of that, but of my duty to Captain Nemo, Jr.," saidMatt.

  "It means," fumed Fingal, enraged at the refusal of Matt and hisfriends to cast their lot with the revolutionists, "that you'll neverlive to get back to Belize!"

  "Or even back down the river to Port Livingston," supplemented the don."Presently we are going to tie up at an old landing on the river bank.After that, we will leave you by yourselves until nightfall. This willgive you a little more time to think over our proposition. Life is apleasant thing to young men like you, and you ought not to cast itlightly aside. Come on, Fingal," he finished.

  The don and Fingal stepped back into the periscope room, closing andlocking the door behind them.

  Dick went over to his cot and sat down with a mirthless laugh.

  "The old hunks has given us his ultimatum," said he. "We must eitherrun the submarine for the revolutionists, or go to Davy Jones. Pleasantprospect, eh, matey?"

  "Wonder if they've batted up the same proposition to Gaines andClackett?" mused Speake.

  "Probably they have," said Matt. "They want to secure the services ofthe submarine's crew, and Gaines and Clackett are important members ofthe ship's company."

  "What sort of a move would it be," suggested Dick, "to pretend to jointhe swabs and then, watching our chances, cut and run back to Belize?"

  Matt shook his head.

  "They wouldn't trust us even if we agreed to join them. Didn't you hearwhat was said about
having an armed guard constantly on the boat, asa 'mere formality'? No, Dick, the best thing for us will be to comeout flatfooted and let the rascals know just where we stand. If theyattempt to take any desperate measures against us, we will claim theprotection of Old Glory."

  "What do they care about a piece of bunting?" returned Dick. "See howthey ran off that American consul? Why, these revolutionists aren'tresponsible for anything, matey, and they'll do just what they please."

  In his own heart, Matt himself felt that Dick was stating the exacttruth.

  While the boys and Speake were talking, the turbines could be heardemptying the ballast tanks, and the boat began slowly rising. A littlelater the boys knew they were on the surface of the river. Steps wereheard running along the deck, overhead, and a sound of voices came tothem. Then there was a bumping along one side of the hull, a stoppingof the motor, and the submarine was at a halt.

  "I suppose we're tied up at that bally landing," observed Dick, "andhere we're to stay and think matters over until nightfall, as thedon put it. By the way, isn't it about time to eat? You and I, Matt,haven't had a mouthful since last night."

  The words were hardly off of Dick's lips when the door leading into theperiscope room opened and closed. The prisoners caught a glimpse ofarmed men standing in the other chamber, and then gave their attentionto the boy who had entered with a basket.

  The lad still had his stocking cap drawn down over his ears, and thecollar of his jacket turned up about his throat.

  "What have you got?" demanded Speake. "If it's grub, set it down. Wewas jest wonderin' if your outfit was calculatin' on starvin' us todeath."

  The boy's actions were peculiar, to say the least. Laying a finger onhis lips, he bent his ear to the edge of the door and listened; then,turning around, he jerked off his stocking cap.

  "Matt," he whispered excitedly, "don't you know me?"

  Matt gazed at the lad's handsome face like one stupefied.

  "Ysabel!" he murmured; "Ysabel Sixty!"

  "Jupiter!" gasped Speake.

  "Great guns!" muttered Dick.

 

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