"I wish you'd get a rig," said Jack feebly, preventing himself fromfalling forward on the table only by a rigid effort.
Cummings jumped to his feet and hurried from the place.
"That native stuff worked quicker than I thought," he muttered. "Now toget a rig and meet Jarrold. I guess he'll think I've done a good job.Anyhow, I'm getting square on that conceited young fool for losing me myposition."
CHAPTER XXIV
KIDNAPPED
A rig was passing and Cummings hailed the driver.
"There's a sick man in here and I want you to give me a hand to get himout, and drive where I tell you," he said. "You'll be paid well if youdon't ask questions."
"Dere's been berry many sick mans come out'n Mother Jenny's,"volunteered the man with a grin as he pulled up his aged horse.
"You just keep your mouth shut. That's all I want you to do," saidCummings with a scowl.
"Oh, berry well, Busha," said the black with a grin.
"Wait here, I'll be out in a minute," said Ralph Cummings. He hurriedback into the unsavory interior of the place and presently issued again,supporting Jack, who was reeling and swaying from side to side and whogazed about him with a vacant expression.
It was at this moment that a dapper little man came hastening along thestreet.
"Good gracious, can it be possible that that is Jack Ready in such acondition?" he exclaimed. "Being led out of a low dram shop! It'sincredible! I'd not believe it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes."
He bustled up to Cummings, who was just putting Jack into the cab, wherethe young wireless boy collapsed, breathing heavily and rolling his eyesstupidly about.
"My friend, pardon me," he exclaimed, addressing Cummings, "but my nameis De Garros. I am a friend of this young man's from the _Tropic Queen_.In fact I owe my life to him. Is he ill?"
"Ill nothing! He's just taken a drop too much. Sea-faring men often do."
De Garros threw up his hands in horror.
"I would never have believed it," he cried incredulously; "yet it mustbe true! Ready, are you ill?"
Jack mumbled something incoherently in rejoinder. De Garros looked hisdisgust.
"What did I tell you?" sneered Cummings. "I'm taking him to a hotel.He'll be all right in a few hours."
"I am glad he has a friend to take care of him," declared the dapperlittle aviator, and he hurried on, shaking his head over theintemperance which he had been led by Cummings to believe was the causeof Jack's plight.
"That's another spoke in your wheel, my lad," muttered Cummings as hegot in beside the now senseless youth. "I don't know who your friend is,but he won't think much of you after this, if, indeed, he ever sees youagain."
He leaned forward and gave a direction to the driver.
"Drive out along the Castle Road," he said, mentioning an unfrequentedroad that led to the outskirts of Kingston.
The darky nodded. All these queer proceedings were none of his business.Their road led through the negro quarter of the town and they passedhardly a white face. Such negroes as they encountered merely staredstolidly at the white-faced, reeling youth seated at Cummings' side.
By and by the houses began to thin out. Then, in the distance, down thedusty road, they came in view of an automobile halted at the roadside.
"Stop at that car," ordered Cummings.
"At dat mobolbubbul?" asked the black.
"That's what I said, you inky-faced idiot," snapped Cummings.
"My, my, dayt am a nice gen'mums, fo' sho'," muttered the old darky. "Ahdon' jes' lak de looks ob dese circumloquoshons nohow, an' Ah am goin'ter keep mah eyes wide open. Yes, sah, jes' dat berry ting."
By the side of the halted car stood Jarrold. He wore a broad Panama hatand a long white dust coat.
"Well, you got him, I see," said Jarrold, with an evil grin that showedall his tusk-like teeth, as the darky's rickety old vehicle came to ahalt.
"Yes, it was like taking candy from a child," responded Cummings. "Nowif you'll just give me a lift in with him, governor, we'll get started."
Between them, the two rascals half pushed, half carried Jack's limp forminto the back of the auto. Jarrold dug down into his pockets.
"This is the right road for the Lion's Mouth, isn't it?" he demanded ofthe darky. "It's years since I was there and I've forgotten much aboutit."
The black looked at him with dropping jaw.
"De Lion's Mouf out by der ole castle, Busha?" he asked.
"Yes, of course," was the impatient response. "This is the right road?"
"Oh, yas, sah, yas, sah," sputtered the driver.
Jarrold gave him a big bill and told him to "keep his mouth shut withthat." The darky looked at the bill and his eyes rolled withastonishment.
"Dere's suthin' wrong hyer," he muttered as he climbed into his ricketyold rig and prepared to drive back to town. "Hones' folks wouldn' giveole Black Strap dat amoun' uv money fo' dat lilly bitty ride 'less deywas suthin' fishy. Reckon Ah'll do some 'vestigatin' when Ah gits backto der town."
In the meantime, Jarrold had taken the driver's seat of the car andCummings sat beside him. In a cloud of dust they started down the road,the old darky gazing after them till long after they had passed out ofsight.
Then he whipped up his bony old nag to its best speed and hurried backto Kingston.
CHAPTER XXV
SAM, A TRUE FRIEND
Sam saw Jarrold get up and leave his table suddenly. The boy was on hisfeet in a minute and on his trail. Jarrold walked off quickly as if in ahurry. But Sam trailed him through the lobby. In front of the hotelstood an automobile, in the tonneau of which sat Jarrold's pretty niece.
Sam got behind a pillar of the Spanish portico and strained his ears tohear what the two were saying, as Jarrold paused with his foot on therunning board. A chauffeur, who had apparently driven his car from somegarage, stood beside it waiting respectfully.
The listening boy could not hear much. But he saw the girl clasp herhands as if pleading with her uncle not to do some contemplated act, andhe heard Jarrold grate out harshly:
"Shut up, I tell you. What do you know about it?"
Then Jarrold turned to the chauffeur.
"You can go, my man. I'll drive myself," he said, and then he jumped inand drove off at a fast pace, while Sam stood helplessly on the portico.Jarrold had escaped his surveillance and it appeared, from the scrap ofconversation that he had overheard, that mischief was in the wind.
Even had he had the money to hire another car, it would have been toolate. Sam felt vaguely that he had been outgeneraled. He went back tothe hotel to wait for his chum. But lunch time came, and no Jack.
Sam began to get worried. Still, Jack might have been detained on theship. Partly to keep from worrying and partly to occupy his time, Samset out to walk to the ship.
He found old Schultz, the quartermaster, superintending the getting outof the cargo.
"Seen Ready about, Schultz?" he asked, going up to the old man.
"Sure I seen idt him," was the reply.
"Where is he?"
"How shouldt I know? I vos busy votching dese plack peggars vurk. Aber,if I don'd vatch, dey all go py scheebs alretty. Yah."
"But he came to the ship some time ago."
"Ach! Don'd I know idt dot? Budt he leftd again, oh, an hour ago. Somefool call him up py delephones undt tell him he is vanted. Dot is piglie. Nobotty vants him on der ship, so he go. Dot is all I know."
Sam looked dismayed. If Jack had left the ship to return to the hotel anhour before, then he should have reached there ages ago. He was notlikely to linger, either, considering how anxious he was to observeJarrold's movements. What could be the explanation? Was he hurt orinjured, or was some plot in execution against him?
But Jack had no enemies in the world so far as Sam knew, and certainlyhe had none in Kingston, where he was an utter stranger. Was it possiblethat Jarrold--but no, that sinister personage had been quietly seated ata table in the hotel garden till the time he drove off
with his niece.
Feeling puzzled and depressed, Sam went ashore once more and called upthe hospitals, in the belief that his chum might have been injured. Butnobody even remotely resembling Jack had been seen there. Nor did hissearch in other quarters result any more favorably. At length Sam wentback to the hotel in the vain hope that Jack might have been delayed insome way, and that they had passed each other.
But no trace of his chum did he find there, either. The lad made amiserable pretext of eating lunch and then set out on his search again.By this time he was absolutely certain that harm of some sort had cometo Jack.
As he was leaving the hotel gates, he almost collided with a figure justcoming in. He greeted the newcomer with a cry of joy. In the mood he wasin, Sam longed for someone in whom to confide his fears about Jack.
"Why, what is the matter?" demanded the other as Sam exclaimed,
"I am glad I met you. I'm in great trouble. It's about Jack. He lefthere to go to the ship. He was summoned there by telephone. But on hisarrival at the dock, he found that the message was either a mistake or awilful hoax."
"So?" said the aviator softly. "Go on, my young friend."
"That much I found out by inquiry at the ship after I tired of waitingfor him to return."
"Yes, and then?"
Sam noticed something most peculiar about the aviator's manner, but hewas in no mood just then to criticize it.
"Well, that's about all. He just hasn't shown up and I can't find anytrace of him."
"That is more than strange," said De Garros in a serious voice, "when Itell you that I myself saw him not more than two hours ago."
"You saw him?"
"Yes."
"Where."
De Garros looked embarrassed. He laid a kindly hand on the shoulder ofthe anxious lad beside him.
"I hated to believe my own eyes and I hate to tell you what I saw," hesaid seriously, "but I saw your chum and my friend being helped out of alow dram shop in the negro quarter into a cab. He was--I hate to say it,but I must--tipsy."
Sam started back from the Frenchman with flaming cheeks and angry eyes.
"It's a lie, I don't care who says it!--It's a lie!" he burst outangrily.
CHAPTER XXVI
A WICKED PLAN
How Cummings came to be acting as the rascally Jarrold's agent is easilyexplained. After he was discharged from the _Tropic Queen_ at Jack'sbehest, he had drifted about seeking any sort of a job. In this way hediscovered that a yacht called the _Endymion_ was being fitted out for amysterious voyage.
There were several things about the _Endymion_ and her crew that hadprevented other wireless operators from accepting a berth on her.
No information was forthcoming as to the nature of her cruise or itsdestination or even who the owner was.
But Cummings was not particular. He met Jarrold on board and after aninterview with the master rogue, in which he bound himself to ask noquestions but obey orders, he found himself signed on as the yacht'swireless man.
The _Endymion_, as we know, was a much faster boat than the _TropicQueen_, and had arrived in Kingston, after her mysterious maneuvering onthe voyage south, a day ahead of the liner, slipping in almost unnoticedand docking at a remote pier. As soon as the _Tropic Queen_ docked,Jarrold, to whom alone these arrangements were known, hastened to the_Endymion_. He found Cummings and assigned to him the job of gettingJack Ready into his power. Cummings would have obeyed Jarrold anyhow,but the work given him held an added relish, for it afforded him anopportunity to take revenge on the lad whom he hated with a maliciousenvy.
As the auto sped along the road, passing few people and those, countrynegroes driving donkeys laden with produce for the Kingston market,Cummings related with great glee to Jarrold the manner in which he hadtricked Jack into taking the drugged drink.
"I'll take good care of you for putting the job through as you did,"Jarrold assured the treacherous youth. "With that young meddler out ofthe way, I'll accomplish what I set out to do before the _Tropic Queen_reaches Panama."
"Do you still intend to transfer to the _Endymion_ as soon as you havethe papers in your possession?" asked Cummings.
"Yes. I shall signal you by the red flash."
"By the way, what happened to your apparatus the last time we exchangedsignals?" asked Cummings, recalling the night that Jack played hismemorable trick and cut off the current by which Jarrold was working hisflash lamp.
"I don't know, but I suspect that young jackanapes back there of havingsomething to do with it," was the reply.
"Well, you won't be bothered with him now," said Cummings.
"No; by the time he gets out of the Lion's Mouth the _Tropic Queen_ willbe far out at sea," chuckled Jarrold.
"How did you ever come to locate the Lion's Mouth, as you call it?"asked Cummings with some curiosity.
"Many years ago, when I was in Jamaica for--well, never mind whatpurpose--an old voodoo negro showed me the place. It forms part of theruins of an old Spanish castle, and there is a legend that the old Donwho once owned it kept lions in it for his amusement. Any one he didn'tlike, he'd let the lions make a meal of. Nice old gentleman, wasn't he?"
Cummings joined in Jarrold's laugh at his own grim humor.
The road began to grow rougher and Jarrold had all he could do to keepthe machine in the track. He had no more opportunity to talk. Rockywalls shot up on one side of the thoroughfare, and on the other a steepprecipice tumbled sheer down to the sea, which broke in roaring massesof spray at its foot.
It was a scene of gloomy magnificence in which the modern car with itsred trimmings and snorting engine seemed strangely out of place. Atlength they came to a spot where a ravine ran back from the sea,splitting the towering rock masses and spanned by a narrow bridge.
Jarrold turned the car aside and ran it some distance back into a trackthat wound along one side of the deep cleft, at the bottom of which thesea boiled and roared.
Cummings peered over somewhat fearfully into the dark depths.
"The sea pours into that ravine, and then at high water empties into ahole in the earth that penetrates nobody knows how deeply into thebowels of the island," said Jarrold.
"Has nobody ever explored it?" asked Cummings, unconsciously sinking hisvoice.
"Yes, some explorers fitted up a boat once and announced that they weregoing to enter the ravine, and thence penetrate into the unexploredcavern where the waters disappear," was the reply.
"And what did they find?" asked Cummings.
"Well, they never came back to tell," rejoined Jarrold, with grimjocularity.
He brought the car to a sudden stop. A sheer wall of rock shot up beforethem. It was the end of the giant cleft in the earth. There were stepscut in the forbidding acclivity and on a platform far above were tracesof ruined buildings.
"That's what is left of the old Don's castle, up there yonder," saidJarrold, pointing.
"And the Lion's Mouth is up there?" asked Cummings.
Jarrold nodded.
"That's the place," he said.
CHAPTER XXVII
IN THE LION'S MOUTH
Jack came to himself lying on a rocky couch. For a few moments his brainrefused to work. He did not comprehend where he was or what hadhappened. He felt stiff and sore and his head ached intolerably.
Then memory came back with a rush. He recalled the darkened hut where hehad drunk the supposedly innocent cola and then, but very vaguely, thesensation of being placed in a rig and experiencing a desire to call forhelp without being able to raise his voice.
But where was he now?
He looked about him. He lay at the bottom of a steep walled pit,apparently hewn by man or nature out of the solid rock. The walls shotup sheer and smooth to a height of at least thirty feet. The bottom ofthis pit was about forty or fifty feet in circumference.
Beside him was a big canteen of water and some food. He noticedsomething around his shoulders, something that passed under his armpits.It was a rope about forty feet long. S
o, then, he had been lowered intothis pit by somebody. But by whom?
His mind reverted to Cummings. Jack was tolerably certain now that hehad been drugged by his crafty enemy, but he could not bring himself tobelieve that Cummings' mind had plotted the bold stroke by which he hadbeen marooned in this pit. Some master wit had contrived that.
Jack's head swam as he began to sense the full horror of his situation.He did not even know how long he had been there. He looked at his watch.The hands pointed to three o'clock. He had wound the watch in themorning, so it was clear that it was the same day as the one on which hehad entered Mother Jenny's place with Cummings.
He rose dizzily to his feet and, steadying himself with one hand againstthe rock walls, looked about him with greater minuteness. Far above wasthe blue dome of the sky and at the top of those walls lay freedom. Buthe might as well have been in China for all the good it did him. He wascut off from his friends as effectually as if on the other side of theglobe.
Naturally, too, he had not the slightest idea on what part of the islandthe pit was located. There was nothing to indicate where it was. Jackwas not a lad who easily lost heart, but his present position was almostunbearable.
Unless rescuers came to his aid, and it seemed hardly likely that anyonecould penetrate to such a place without a guide, he was doomed to amiserable death. He flung himself down on the rocky floor of the pit inan agony of despair. His despondency lasted for some minutes, and then,resolutely pulling himself together, Jack sprang to his feet.
The Ocean Wireless Boys and the Lost Liner Page 9