CHAPTER IV
GAS
Next day Tim went into the town on an errand for his mother. He waslooking at the window of the only book-shop, when he felt a touch on hissleeve. Looking round, he saw Alfonso, the gobernador's son, a sallow,weedy boy of about his own age, whom he had often vainly tried to induceto have a game at cricket in a field behind Mr. O'Hagan's house. He didnot think much of Alfonso, who always called him senor!
"Follow me, senor," said the boy mysteriously, "but don't let peopleknow."
He moved off at once. Tim might have thought that he was being enticedaway for a practical joke of some kind, only he remembered that thePeruvians never played practical jokes except in carnival time. "I mayas well go," he said to himself; so, pushing his hands into his pockets,he sauntered after Alfonso Fagasta. Several persons gave him pleasantgreetings, and he stopped once or twice to exchange a word, alwayskeeping his eye on Alfonso.
The Peruvian boy walked past the church in the plaza, and turned into anarrow street, or rather lane, bounded on one side by the wall of thepresbytery, on the other by a high wall enclosing a garden. Tim knewthe place well; indeed, in days gone by he had sometimes scaled thegarden wall in quest of ripe plums or peaches. He followed Alfonso forsome distance, until he came to the rear of the enclosure, where therewas a dense plantation extending up the slope of a hill. Here Alfonsomade signs to him to wait, and disappeared through a wicket gate intohis father's garden.
"Why couldn't he tell me where to come?" thought Tim impatiently."What's the silly secret?"
He climbed a tree by way of passing the time, and presently, from hisleafy bower, he saw the gobernador open the wicket gate, glancecautiously round, and then come swiftly towards the plantation. Helooked this way and that, and gave a jump when Tim called out, justabove his head:
"Here I am, senor doctor."
"Ha! my young friend, come down," said the gobernador.
Tim dropped at his feet.
"I have something to say to you," continued the gobernador hurriedly."Pardon me for not receiving you in my house with the respect due to mypreserver, but there are reasons...." He nodded with an air of mystery.Then he went on in nervous haste: "Tell your good father to be on hisguard to-night. See that everything is secure. He must be careful notto arouse suspicion among his staff. Few are to be trusted in thesedisturbed times. If he sleeps at all, let him sleep with one eye open."
"What's going to happen, senor?" asked Tim.
"I say no more. Perhaps I have said too much. But I owe you so muchgratitude----"
"Don't mention it, senor," said Tim, backing. "Thanks for yourwarning."
"Do not breathe my name to any one but your father," said the gobernadoranxiously. "I must go. Next time I see you I hope it will be at myfront door, with open arms."
"I hope it won't," thought Tim. He shook hands with the flurriedgentleman, who, with another cautious look around, returned to the gateand slipped through into his garden.
Tim was very thoughtful as he walked home. Such a warning in SpanishAmerica was not to be disregarded, and he could not help connecting itwith the Prefect's visit, the object of which he had learnt from hismother. He had a lively imagination. Such a man as the Prefect was notlikely to accept amiably the snub administered by Mr. O'Hagan. He mightuse other means than persuasion to enforce his will.
He wanted money. To-morrow was pay-day at the hacienda, and there was alarge sum in the safe. San Rosario had no bank. The branch of a Limabank at San Juan had shut its doors on the accession of the presentPrefect to office: the managers feared that their floating assets wouldbe attached by the new official, ostensibly for public purposes. Sincethen the employers of labour had had to be their own bankers, drawingcash at intervals from Lima by well-armed convoys. There could belittle doubt that the gobernador had somehow got wind of a plot to robMr. O'Hagan on the coming night.
Tim wondered what his father would do to defeat the attempt. How wouldthe burglars go to work? The safe was kept in the office. The key wason Mr. O'Hagan's bunch. To reach the office the robbers would have topass through one or other of the patios. The middle patio had Frenchdoors opening on the garden. They were always locked and bolted atnight, like the main door and the servants' entrance. It would bedifficult to enter without making a noise, unless the servants were inleague with the burglars. Tim thought of each of them in turn, and feltsure that all were trustworthy.
All at once a brilliant idea struck him. His father was rather vexedwith him--or with the motor-cycle, which amounted to the same thing;what a score it would be if he could deal with this matter himself,without his father knowing anything about it! He chuckled with delightas he imagined himself telling at the breakfast-table, as calmly asthough it were an everyday matter, how he had defeated an attemptedburglary. But how was it to be done? Mr. O'Hagan was a light sleeper; aslight noise would disturb him, and Tim was at a loss for any means ofrouting the burglars silently.
He thought of wire entanglements; but he could not erect them withouthis father's knowledge. He thought of a booby-trap; but that was boundto make a noise. He had almost reached home before a plan occurred tohim; it pleased him so much that he laughed. There was a large quantityof ammonia solution in the house, kept for household purposes and foruse with the refrigerator which was a domestic necessity in thistropical climate. Tim had only recently left school in England, so thathis knowledge of chemistry had not yet evaporated. If he heated some ofthis liquid, and led the vapour into the patio at the critical moment,the fumes would be obnoxious enough, he thought, to choke off any rashintruders.
As soon as he got home, he took into consultation an old mestizo namedAndrea, who was gardener and odd man, a family servant of many years'standing. Andrea was rather troubled, and advised that the warningshould be given to Mr. O'Hagan; but few could resist Tim'spersuasiveness, and the old man at length consented to assist his youngmaster.
Tim's bedroom was next to the office. At the bottom of the wall next tothe patio there was a grating which could be removed. That night, whenall the rest had retired, Andrea brought to Tim's room a large oil-canwith a narrow neck, containing a quantity of the ammonia solution. Timhad already provided himself with a short length of garden hose, with anozzle at the end. Drawing the rubber tubing over the neck of the can,he placed the nozzle end in the hole from which the grating had beenremoved, in such a way that when the cock was turned it would allow thefumes to enter the patio within a few inches of the office door. Havinglighted a large spirit-lamp beneath the oil-can, he set a chair againstthe door, on which he could mount to reach a ventilator above, openingon to the patio, and sat down on his bed, quivering with excitement, towait for the expected attack.
Hours passed, and he grew fidgety. Every now and then he got on thechair, and peeped through the ventilator. All was dark and silent.
"I don't believe they're coming," he whispered disconsolately to Andrea.
"So much the better, senorito," said the old man.
But Tim did not agree with that; he did not want to be disappointed ofhis fun.
At last he heard a slight sound from without. Jumping on the chair, hepeered through the ventilator. He could see nothing, but he guessed bythe sounds that the putty was being scraped from one of the glass panesof the French door. Presently he dimly saw several dark, shadowy formspass from side to side. The men were removing the pane. One afteranother the intruders stepped quietly across the patio towards theoffice door. Just as they reached it Tim slipped off the chair, stoopedto the floor, and noiselessly turned on the cock of the nozzle.
For a few seconds there was no effect. He heard the slight click of akey as it was inserted in the lock of the office door. But then, as theammonia fumes began to diffuse, there was a sniff, a stifled cough, anda whispered exclamation. Presently there were louder coughs, long-drawngasps, and the men, in the effort to repress these fatal sound
s, chokedand spluttered violently, until, half-blinded, half-suffocated, theyturned away, cursing with what breath was left to them, and tumbled overone another in a rush for the door.
At the same moment the door of Mr. O'Hagan's room was flung violentlyopen, and that gentleman, roused by the noise, rushed into the patio inhis pyjamas, a gun in his hand. Seeing that the pane was removed, heran to the door, and sent a charge of duck-shot after the dark figuresscampering over the garden-beds. The sound of firing roused all thehousehold, and the affrighted servants came flocking into the patio.
"What's this confounded smell?" gasped Mr. O'Hagan, turning when themarauders had vanished into the night. There was a chorus of coughsfrom the servants.
Tim had turned off the stream of gas, and now opened his door; he feltvery much annoyed with the burglars; why had they made such a silly row?
"One of your tricks, Tim?" said Mr. O'Hagan. He gasped again."Ammonia, begore!"
"It is, Father," said Tim meekly.
"What on earth do you mean by disturbing the whole household in thisway? ... Get back to bed," he cried in Spanish to the servants; "all'swell now.... Now, sir, just explain this tomfoolery."
"May I come into your room?" asked Tim, anxious that old Andrea shouldnot get into trouble.
"You may, and apologise to your poor mother for disturbing her rest.Now, what have you to say for yourself? Were those fellows outsidefriends of yours, in the plot too? If so, you're responsible for themurder or maiming of some of them."
"Indeed they're not. They are burglars, and I spoilt their game withammonia."
"Burglars, eh? But how did you know they were coming? You must havemade preparations?"
"I did. Old Fagasta told me to look out for them to-night, and I didso."
"Indeed now! What did the gobernador know about it, then?"
"He didn't tell me. He only asked me to tell you to be on your guardto-night."
"Why didn't you do so, then?"
"I thought I would make them scoot myself, and not disturb you. Whocould know the donkeys would make such a silly row!"
Mr. O'Hagan's mouth twitched at his son's indignant tone.
"Well, Tim," he said, "sure 'twas very considerate of you, but next timeyou are asked to give me a message, give it. And no more tricks of thiskind, mind ye. We don't wish to be blown up one night."
"I dished them, anyway."
"I don't deny it. But 'twas lucky the noise woke me; for a few pelletsin their carcasses will be a more enduring lesson than a stink. Now, tobed!"
When Tim had gone, Mr. O'Hagan said to his wife:
"The Prefect has made his first move, Rose."
"Tim was quite upset, poor boy!" replied Mrs. O'Hagan.
The Motor Scout: A Story of Adventure in South America Page 4