CHAPTER V.
AT THE GREAT GATUN DAM.
"Over there is the oldest country on this side of the world," said PeterFenton, pointing over the rail of the vessel and across the smooth watersof the Caribbean sea. "We are now on the famous Spanish Main," hecontinued, "where adventurers from the Windward Islands laid in wait forthe galleons of Spain. Just ahead, rising out of the sea, is the Isthmusof Panama. Down there to the left is the continent of South America, wherethere were cathedrals and palaces when Manhattan Island was stillpopulated by native Indians."
The minds of the Boy Scouts were filled with splendid dreams as theyfollowed with their eyes the directions indicated by the pointing hand. Itwas all a fairyland to them. Peter talked for some time on the causeswhich had brought the scum of the seven seas to the Isthmus, and then NedNestor interrupted the talk by inviting them all to the stateroom heoccupied in common with Frank Shaw.
When all were seated on chairs and bunks Ned opened the door and lookedout on the passage which ran along in front of the apartment. When heturned back into the room there was a humorous twinkle in his eyes.
"His Nobbs is in sight," he said.
"The same party?" asked Frank.
"The same dusky gentleman who has followed us since the night of the theftof the emerald necklace," Ned replied.
"He ought to receive a Carnegie medal for always being on the spot," Franksaid.
"We ought to turn the hose on him," Jimmie corrected.
"We should feel lost without him," laughed George Tolford. "When I firstsaw him in the newspaper building, while you were investigating the chaosof papers in Mr. Shaw's rooms," he went on, "I had a hunch that weshouldn't be able to lose him."
"Well, we haven't been able to lose him," Peter Fenton said. "He remindsme, the way he floats about, of the ghost of some pirate who sailed aboutthe Spanish Main four hundred years ago in a long, low, rakish craftadorned with a black flag."
"I saw him in the newspaper building that night," Jimmie said, "an' helooked glad because we got no clues there."
"Why didn't Ned have him arrested in New York?" asked Jack Bosworth.
"What for?" demanded Jimmie.
"For making a nuisance of himself. Then he couldn't have followed us onboard the ship. Also, he might have been able to get a little sleepnights."
"I reckon we have kept him going," Frank observed, with a laugh.
Ever since the night of the robbery the man called "His Nobbs" for want ofa better name had kept Ned Nestor in sight most of the time. He hadfollowed him home after the profitless visit to the newspaper office onthe night of the theft, had chased about after him while the details ofthe trip to Panama were arranged the next day, and had turned up on theship after she was under way.
The fellow did not seem to be overly anxious to keep his watchfulness asecret. He acted like any first cabin passenger on the ship. But, somehow,he managed to keep Ned in view most of the time. Now and then he wascaught watching the door of Ned's stateroom. He never spoke to the boy,and never even looked at him when the two passed one another.
Taking advantage of this preference for Ned's company, the boys had put upall sorts of jobs on the fellow, and some of their pranks had kept himwatching Ned's odd moves all night. It was a new and strange experience toNed, this being spied upon so openly, and he was at a loss to account forthe mental processes which inspired the strange surveillance.
"Well," said Ned presently, "let him watch outside if he wants to. We camein here to talk about something else. I have just been talking withLieutenant Gordon, and he says we are to go into camp in the jungle notfar from the Gatun dam. He will stop at the Tivoli, at Ancon, adjoiningPanama. When we have anything to communicate to him, one of us can go downto Panama after supplies and leave word at an office where one of thelieutenant's associates in the case will always be in waiting. We are notto know the lieutenant if we meet him in our soup."
"We'll be eaten alive out there in the jungle," protested Jimmie.
"Besides, it would be more natural for us to go to Gatun for oursupplies," Peter Fenton said.
"There are reasons why he wants us to remain in the jungle near Gatun fora time," Ned replied, and the boys separated, Jimmie strolling off in thewake of "His Nobbs," "just to see if he couldn't make him cough upsomething," as he expressed it.
The mystery of the theft of the emerald necklace was still unsolved, theman whose picture Ned carried in his brain had not been found, Pedro hadbeen among the missing ever since he had walked out of the Shaw residenceon the morning after the robbery. When the boys landed at Colon the nextmorning the case upon which they were engaged was still new ground beforethem.
Frank Shaw continued to take the loss of his emeralds very seriously, andat no time during the trip to Colon had he failed to keep an eye out forPedro, whom he suspected of having admitted the thief to the house.
"His name isn't Pedro at all," he said, as the train sped out of thenetwork of tracks behind Colon, "but Pedrarias. That was the name of therobber who succeeded Balboa as governor of New Granada, the pirate whostood Balboa up against a wall and shot him. Pedro, as I call him forshort, declares that he is a direct descendant of that old stiff. He saysthe Spanish blood in his veins is pure. Great Scott! if I had such apirate for an ancestor, I'd keep mighty still about it."
Peter Fenton was in his element now. As the train moved away from Colon hepointed out various points of interest, and supplied such informationabout them as he had gleaned from the maps and books he had consulted. Theruins of the old French workings were soon in sight, the locality wheremillions had been squandered in graft. And there was Mount Hope Cemetery,where thousands who had perished from fever had been buried.
"The doctors have cleaned out the fever now," he said, "by cleaning outthe mosquitoes--the poison kind with the long name," he added. "The CanalZone is about as healthy now as the city of New York."
Then came thickets where the trees were tied together with vines andcreepers, all in gorgeous bloom. The great trees lifting their heads outof the jungle reminded the boys of the electric towers of New York, thetwists of vines resembling the mighty cables which convey light, heat andpower to the inhabitants of Manhattan.
As if in rivalry of the wealth of blossoms, bright-plumaged birds dartedabout like butterflies of unnatural growth. Now and then they saw evillooking lizards, some of them a yard in length, scuttling off through themarshes or looking down from high limbs. There was a swampy atmosphereover all the landscape.
Then, as the Boy Scouts looked, thinking of the glory of a camp in thethicket--of a retired nook on some dry knoll--the jungle disappeared as ifby magic, and the train was winding up grassy hills. Beyond, higher up,the scattered houses of a city of fair size came into view.
"That's Gatun," cried Fenton. "I've read half a dozen descriptions of itlately. Great town, that."
"The houses look like boxes from here," Jimmie observed.
"Of course," Peter replied, "they are all two-story houses, square, withdouble balconies all screened in. Might be Philadelphia, eh?"
There were smooth roads in front of the houses, and there were yards whereflowers were growing, and where neatly dressed children were playing.Jimmie turned from the homelike scene to Frank.
"I thought there would be something new down here," he complained. "Thisis just like a town up the Hudson."
"Jimmie expected to find people living in tents made out of animal skins,"laughed George. "He thinks the natives eat folks alive."
"You wait until you get out of the country," Frank said, "before you talkof cottages up the Hudson. There will be something stirring before we getoff the Isthmus."
"I hope so," Jimmie replied. "There surely will be if we camp back therein the jungle, among the snakes and lizards."
"Why not camp on the hills back there?" asked Jack.
"We may soon camp anywhere we like," said Ned. "The Zone governmentunderstands that we are a lot of kids out after specimens."
"Sp
ecimens of what?" asked Jimmie.
"Tall, slender men with black hair turning gray," replied Frank.
"Quit your kiddin'," grinned Jimmie.
The boys left the train at a modern depot, passed through the train-shed,crossed a level sward, and looked down into a mighty chasm.
"Great Scott!" cried Frank. "Is that the bottom of the world?"
He pointed below as he spoke.
"There seems to be a thin crust of rock between the bottom and the otherside of the world," laughed George. "See! There are tunnels and pits downthere. The men are still digging. Look like ants, don't they?"
It was a wonderful sight, and the Boy Scouts gazed long at the scene ofactivity before turning away toward the Gatun dam itself. This, PeterFenton explained, was one of the big cuts of the canal, and ran from themarshy valley above down through the rocky ridge which held the rains incheck and made a swamp of the upland.
Along the margins of the excavation ran shining steel rails upon whichwere mounted tapering structures of steel, from which cables crossed thegorge, carrying great buckets of concrete for the work below. Heavy wallswere growing out of the depths.
"The ships will come up out of the sea through this cut," Peterexplained.
"Then they'll climb the hill," scorned Jimmie.
"They will stop down there," said Peter, "and the lock gates will beclosed, and the water will lift them to the level of the lake."
"I don't see no lake," observed the skeptical Jimmie.
"The lake will lie where the low land is, over there," replied Peter,pointing. "The Gatun dam will block the water and make a lake 85 feetabove sea level, covering one hundred and sixty-four square miles ofearth."
"So the most of the canal will be lake?" asked the boy.
"Quite a lot of it," was the reply.
"And if any one should blow up the dam, after it gets on its job, theships would have to climb a ladder if they got over to Panama," heexclaimed.
"Something like that," Peter said.
"Where is the Gatun dam?" asked Jack.
"It is going up over there," Peter replied, pointing out a low, broadridge which appeared to link two hills together. "That is what will makethe inland sea, and that is the lump of earth we came here to lookafter."
"It is a busy place night and day," Ned said. "See the electric towers andwires? Work never stops."
"Something like His Nobbs," grinned Jimmie. "I wonder if he has had anysleep since he struck our trail?"
"I haven't seen him since we left the train," Jack said. "Perhaps he hasdelivered us over to the Panama division of the Anti-Canal BenevolentSociety. In that case, we shall see no more of him."
After a time the boys strolled over to a neat little hotel on theprincipal street of the town, and there saw Lieutenant Gordon, whostrolled up to Ned, just as any two Americans meeting there might haveaffiliated.
"Your camp in the jungle is ready for you," the officer said, as the twowalked about the lobby of the hotel. "You will find a movable cottagethere, all furnished, and a good cook. Until further orders you are all toremain there."
"Pretty quick work," said Ned.
"The orders for the cottage camp were sent over by wire before we left NewYork," the lieutenant replied. "You are at liberty to roam about the worksat will, only you ought to leave some one at the cottage always."
"As I understand it, we are boys looking for adventure?" asked Ned.
"Exactly."
"And an emerald necklace," added the boy with a laugh.
"I have a notion that if you find Pedro you will find the necklace, unlessyou find him too late--after he has disposed of it."
"That may be," Ned replied, doubtingly, "but we are not likely to runacross Pedro over here. Neither shall we see His Nobbs. They have playedtheir roles, and we shall have new ones to contend with now."
That night the boys took possession of the cottage in the jungle, dancingand prancing about it like wild Indians. It all seemed to them to be toogood to be true. Here they were, at last, on the Canal Zone, and, in away, in the secret service of the government. It was late when theyretired, and no guard was set.
This Ned regretted, after the others were asleep, and so lay awake a longtime, watching. Then, about midnight, he saw some one looking in at theporch door.
Boy Scouts in the Canal Zone; Or, The Plot Against Uncle Sam Page 5