The Young Engineers on the Gulf
Page 4
CHAPTER IV
SOME ONE CALLS AGAIN
Half an hour later Tom Reade leaped ashore at the little pier.
"My orders, Mr. Reade."
"They're brief and concise," Tom rejoined. "You're to cruise the lengthof the wall, especially farther out from shore. Use your searchlightfreely. Keep the wall so guarded that no rascal can slip out there, eitherover the wall or by boat, and do any damage. Mr. Evarts, the safety ofthe wall until daylight is your whole charge."
"Very good, sir. But I'm sure that nothing more will happen to the wall."
"If anything does it will be up to you, Mr. Evarts," Tom assured himgrimly. "I'll hold you responsible."
"I won't let anything happen, Mr. Reade. And I hope you find Mr. Hazeltonall right."
"He may be up at camp," Tom answered, though in his heart he did notbelieve it.
Had Harry escaped whatever danger had menaced him, Tom knew very well thathis chum, after appealing for help, would by some means have signaled hissubsequent safety.
However, Tom started toward camp at a run. He was wholly mystified. Thesearch in the neighborhood of the breach in the wall had been continueduntil its hopelessness had been fully demonstrated. The search had alsobeen continued over the water, for a possible clue to the mystery.
Though Tom ran, he felt himself choking, stifling. Despite all his effortsto cheer himself the young chief engineer felt certain that his chum hadmysteriously met his fate, and that brave, dependable Harry Hazelton was nomore.
Yet how could he have vanished so completely, and what possibly could havehappened to his assailant or assailants?
"It'll be an awful night, until daylight," Tom groaned inwardly, as heran. "At daylight, of course, we can make a far better search, especiallyover the water. But in the hours that must elapse---! It's going to be atough period of waiting!"
Arrived at camp, Tom made straight for his own barracks, letting himselfin with a latch-key as soon as he could control his shaking handsufficiently to use the key.
Tom bounded straight for the bed-room of the superintendent, at the rearof the little building.
"Mr. Renshaw!" shouted the young chief, throwing open the bed-room door.
The barrack was lighted by electricity. Tom threw on the light, thenwheeled toward the bed, to find the superintendent sitting up, revolverin hand.
"Oh, it's you, is it?" gasped the superintendent. "Mr. Reade, in mystupor from being aroused I was just on the point of shooting you for aburglar. It's awful!"
"You ought to throw that revolver to the bottom of the gulf," Tom raspedout.
"Not much!" retorted the superintendent. "Handling as mixed a crew as wehave on this work I wouldn't think of going about unarmed. And you oughtto go armed, too, Mr. Reade."
"Bosh!" uttered Tom. He had a well-known objection to carrying a pistol.Reade always maintained that a pistol-carrying man was a coward. A cowardis one who is afraid, and the man who is not afraid has no reason to carrya weapon.
"Renshaw," added Tom, "there's just one circumstance in which I wouldcarry a pistol---and that is, if I were carrying large sums of otherpeople's money. If I were a pay-master, or a bank messenger, I'd carrya pistol, but under no other circumstances, outside of military service,would I carry a weapon. But---are you thoroughly awake, now?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then, Mr. Renshaw, get up and hide that pistol somewhere. While you'reabout it, listen to me. Some scoundrel has blown out a large portion ofour retaining wall to-night. I left Hazelton on guard at the point andcame ashore to get out the motor boat, 'Morton.' Before I could returnI heard Hazelton's call for help, and---he has disappeared! There'swicked work on hand to-night. You'll have to get up and help me. Be quickwith your dressing. We've work to do to-night, and all of it is man'swork."
Tom hastily added such other particulars as were needed. Renshaw, whilehe dressed hurriedly, listened with a horror that he took no pains toconceal.
"Evarts claims that it's revenge work, on the part of some of our men,because Hazelton and I stopped gambling in the camp," Tom continued.
"It might be," Renshaw admitted thoughtfully. "But to me it seems thatthere must be a lot more behind the whole terrible matter."
"That's the way it strikes me, too," Tom nodded. "However, you're dressed,so now we can hurry out and get busy."
"What shall we do first?" Superintendent Renshaw inquired.
"That's what I've been thinking over while you were dressing," Tom replied."Of course the one thing of real importance is to find Hazelton."
"Killed, beyond a doubt," replied the older man.
"I refuse to believe it," Tom retorted. "There's a mystery in his fate,but I simply won't believe that Harry has been killed."
"Then why didn't you hear from him further?"
"That's the mystery."
Tom had shaped their course for the barracks occupied by the foremen. Hebounded upon the little porch and began to hammer on the door with bothfists.
"Turn out, everybody!" Tom bellowed. "Every foreman is on duty to-night.Show a light, and let us in as soon as you can."
Some one was heard stirring. Then Dill, one of the foremen, admitted thecallers.
"Are all the others up?" Reade asked, sharply.
"Yes, sir."
"Good! Tell your associates to finish dressing as quickly as possible andto meet me in the office."
"The office" was a little room just inside the entrance to the building.It was a room where the foremen sat and chatted in the evenings.
"Put a double-hustle on, everyone," Tom called after Dill.
"Yes, sir."
Barely three minutes had passed when all of the six remaining foremen hadassembled. Tom plunged instantly into a brief account of what hadhappened.
"It seems to me, sir---" Dill began.
"Keep it to yourself, then, if you please," Tom interrupted him gently."We haven't any time for opinions to-night. What we want is swift,intelligent work, and a lot of it."
Tom thereupon gave each man his directions.
"Now, each of you go to your own gangs in the camp," he added. "Wake whatmen you need and put 'em to work. If any of the men object to being takenfrom their cots in the night, just lift them out. Don't stand anynonsense. Let each foreman make it his business to know just what the menunder him are doing."
One foreman was to take men with lanterns and go out carefully over everyfoot of the seawall. Another was to organize a beach patrol. Stillanother, with but two men, was to go into the town of Blixton and see ifany tidings of Hazelton could be obtained there. To one foreman fell thetask of searching carefully through camp before going to other workassigned to him.
"Now, get to work, all of you," Tom ordered. "As an extra inducement youcan tell your men that the one who finds Hazelton, whether dead or alive,shall have a reward of one hundred dollars. Remember the watchword forto-night, which is, 'hustle!'"
In all, some sixty men were pulled from their cots. Tom, having given theorders, walked down to the beach with his superintendent.
"You've covered everything that's possible, I think, Mr. Reade," commentedthe foreman.
"I think I have. But there won't be any rest for any one until we havefound Hazelton."
"Are you going to have the water dragged?"
"Not before daylight---perhaps not then," Reade replied. "I can't bringmyself to believe that Harry was thrown into the water and that he drownedthere."
"It'll take the chief a day or two to realize that," sighed thesuperintendent to himself. "Yet that is exactly what has happened. Thechief won't believe it, though, until the body is found."
Down on the beach there was really nothing for Tom and his head man to doafter the arrival of the foremen and their gangs. Everything went ahead inan orderly manner.
"I don't suppose you could get any rest, under the circumstances, Mr.Reade," hinted the superintendent, "yet that is just what you are goingto need."
"Rest?" echoed Tom, gazing at the man, in a strange, wide-eyed way, whilea grim smile flickered around the corners of his mouth. "What have restand I to do with each other just now?"
"Yet there's nothing you can do here."
"I am here, anyway," Reade retorted. "I'm on the spot---that's something."
"Let me run back to the house and get you some blankets," urged thesuperintendent. "Then you can lie down on the sand and rest. Of courseI know you can't sleep at present."
"It is not necessary go back," volunteered a voice behind them. "I havethe blankets."
"Nicolas!" gasped Tom, in surprise. "How did you know I was here?"
"I wake up when you talk to Meester Renshaw," replied the Mexican simply."I listen. I know, now---poor Senor Hazelton!"
Nicolas's voice broke, and, as he stepped closer, Tom beheld some largetears trickling down the little Mexican's face.
"Nicolas, you're a good fellow!" cried Tom, impulsively, "but I don't wantthe blankets. Spread them on the sand, then lie down on them yourselfuntil I need you."
"What---me? I lie down?" demanded Nicolas. "No, no! That impossible is.I must walk, walk! Me? I am like the caged panther to-night. I wantnothing but find the enemy who have hurt Senor Hazelton. Then I jump onthe back of that enemy!"
Saying which Nicolas saluted, and, as became his position of servant, fellback some yards. But first he had dropped the blankets to the beach.
The light of lanterns showed that the men of one gang were searchingthoroughly all along the top of the wall. Once in a while a man belongingto the beach patrol passed the chief engineer and the superintendent,reporting only that no signs of Harry had been found.
An hour thus passed. Then, from over the water, as the lantern-bearingsearchers were returning, a dull explosion boomed across the water.
"Great Scott!" quivered Tom. "There they go at it again, Mr. Renshaw!Another section of the retaining wall has gone---blown up!"