He carelessly rose, lighted another cigarette and strolled down to the water’s edge, where he stood with his back to them. The three rascals took advantage of the opportunity and argued among themselves for half an hour.
“Senor!” called Francisco, who, as a trusted lieutenant of Ramon Ganza, was the more important of the three.
Mr. Radley-Todd came back to the launch.
“It is this way,” explained Francisco. “We desire to be save, senor, but we have caution. We believe you speak true, but not yet have you conquer Ramon; not yet has the warship come to take him to prison. So we think of a way to be safe if Ramon win, an’ safe if you win. It is but just to us, as honest men, that we do that way.”
Chesty smiled, really amused.
“How childlike and bland you naughty, naughty men are!” he exclaimed. “But let me hear your clever plan to play both sides and win hands down.”
“When we find you escape from ship,” began Francisco, “then Ramon think you have come here, for the tent is gone from the top of the bluff. So Ramon tell us to come here in big launch, to see what you do, an’ he say capture you an’ bring you back to him. When we get here we find this boat; but two fly away in air-machine, an’ only one is left to capture. But Ramon not know if we come before the two away or not; he not know if we three, who come to capture, get capture ourselves. So that is what we mus’ do. We get capture. You tie up our arms an’ our legs an’ put gag in our mouth. Then you put us in boat an’ take us away to your ship. If Ramon stop us, we say we have been capture. If Ramon see you take us on your ship, he think we have fight hard an’ been capture, an’ he sorry but not mad. Then, if he take your ship, he set us free; if warship come an’ capture Ramon, we safe on your ship an’ be hones’ men, like you say, an’ get reward from Madero. Is it not good way, senor?”
Chesty’s sentiments wavered between indignation and admiration. Such a combination of low cunning, cowardice and absence of all shame he had never encountered in any being of human origin. But his cue was not to quarrel with the men at this time. It was enough to realize that instead of becoming a prisoner he was to carry his three captors, bound, to the ship, and so deprive Ramon of that many assistants.
In the outlaw’s big launch, which was anchored just outside the tiny bay in the open sea, were plenty of stout ropes. Francisco waded out and got a supply, and then he proceeded deftly to bind his two comrades, trussing their arms to their bodies and their legs together, so that they were helpless. The fellows grinned with delight at this experience, thinking how cleverly they were fooling Ramon Ganza, and when they were laid side by side on the beach Chesty stuck a lighted cigarette in the mouth of each, to afford them comfort and render them patient. Then Francisco bound his own legs and turned to Mr. Radley-Todd, who at once completed the operation and fastened Francisco’s arms to his body — not too tightly, but in a very secure manner.
When this was done the big boy breathed a sigh of contentment and set himself down beside his captives.
“Now,” said Francisco, “you mus’ put us in big boat an’ go back to ship with us.”
Chesty shook his head.
“Not yet, old man,” said he.
“Not yet?”
“No; I shall wait for night. It will be safe in the darkness.”
“Then you are ‘fraid of Ramon.”
“Not much. Just a little.”
The prisoners wriggled uneasily.
“Listen, then, Senor American,” observe Francisco. “If we not go before night, then release our bonds — make loose the ropes — so we will rest more easy. When night come you will again tie us up.”
Mr. Todd was unresponsive.
“Too much trouble, Francisco,” he remarked, with a yawn. “Why do the work twice?”
“But — to lie here all day! San Sebastian, it is too horrible!”
“Fortunes of war, my dear boy. Ramon might appear unexpectedly, you know. We made a bargain, to ensure your safety, and we’re going to keep it.”
All three turned their heads to regard him with interest. There were sparks of glowering resentment in their dark eyes. Presently one of them said in humble tones:
“With your kind permission, Senor Americano, I think I will change my mind.”
“Certainly,” replied Chesty; “do anything you please with your mind. It’s yours, you know.”
“I think, then, senor, I will not be your prisoner — until night.”
“Don’t think any such thing. It’s wicked of you. Try to guide your thoughts into right channels. Make up your mind to be true to your bargain, because — you have to be.”
Francisco groaned.
“All masters are cruel,” he muttered. “This Americano is as bad as Ramon!”
“But he’s going to preserve your liberty and keep you out of jail,” Chesty reminded him.
“And now, boys, try to sleep, for I’m going to take a little walk and stretch my legs.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
SCUTTLED
A MODICUM OF TRUTH had been included in Ramon Ganza’s recital of falsehoods during his interview with those on board the yacht. The outlaw was really in a tight place and only by forcing, in some way, the capture of the yacht could he hope to escape in a manner at all agreeable to his requirements.
By this time he was fully aware of the situation that confronted him. The flying-machine, if it encountered no accident, would reach the mainland and secure assistance for the stranded Americans. Perhaps it was true that President Madero would send a warship to capture him. Like most fugitive criminals, he had an exaggerated idea of his own importance. In any event he must abandon his island kingdom and seek another hiding place. His first intention — to make everyone of these intruders prisoners and subjects, so they could not betray him — was frustrated by the escape of the two in the aeroplane. It would be useless to capture the others when these two had already carried the news to the authorities who were seeking him.
Two courses of procedure were open to Ganza. One was hastily to outfit his sixty-foot launch and run it to the South Pacific in search of some other island that was uninhabited, taking with him enough men and women to start a new colony. The other was to capture the yacht, put his most cherished possessions on board and then make off in it before any help could arrive from the mainland. The first was by far the most sensible course, but the beauties of the Salvador had so enraptured him and he was so well aware of the value a yacht would prove to him that he could not bring himself to abandon the idea of securing it until the last moment of grace had arrived.
This led him to consider how much time remained to him in which to carry out his intentions. He figured that at least thirty-six hours must elapse before any ship could possibly arrive. It was unlikely that the messengers would find a ship prepared to sail at a moment’s notice, and therefore three or four days might pass before he would be disturbed by any outside foe.
Ramon had hoped to frighten the Americans into surrender and therefore had arranged the little drama so lately enacted; but the finale had disappointed him. There was no mine planted beneath the yacht, but he had instructed one of his men to answer to his call, no matter what name he cried out, and to make the statement to the Americans which he had so cleverly invented. He made a mistake in thinking the flag of truce would protect him, for these strangers were not so simple as he had believed; so he had been forced to attempt a desperate escape, which succeeded because it was so bold and unexpected.
Recovering his breath as his white flannels dried upon the rocks, Ramon Ganza carefully considered his next move in the game. The yacht was a glorious prize. He must certainly have it for his own. The people on board seemed unequal to a successful defense. There might be half a dozen determined men among them, but the rest were women and cowards. He laughed as he recalled Mr. Tupper’s terror at his threats.
The outlaw decided to carry the ship by assault. A night attack would be best. As soon as Francisco returned with the launch
he would call his men together and instruct them what to do. Being informed of every movement on the part of the besieged, Ganza was aware that three people had escaped in the small launch to the bluff where the flying-machine lay. As soon as he discovered that the tent was gone he had dispatched Francisco with two men to capture the three, or as many as he could find. When the aeroplane ascended Ganza watched it carefully and decided it contained but two people; therefore Francisco would find the other and presently return.
But Francisco failed to put in an appearance, to his master’s great annoyance. That old tub of a launch was precious to him, for if all else failed he must use it to make good his escape. Also he needed the three men to assist in boarding the yacht in the night attack. His men were unarmed, while the yacht’s crew seemed well provided with weapons of defense.
As the day wore on he considered sending the rowboat to search for Francisco’s party, but decided not to risk it. Of course Francisco would come, in time; doubtless he was delayed because he experienced difficulty in capturing his man.
Evening came, but no Francisco. Ramon Ganza was perplexed; he was even somewhat troubled. He must defer the attack until the launch arrived, for he intended to use it to carry his men to the side of the yacht. His plan was to have the launch run up to one side and make a noisy attack, to create a diversion and concentrate the attention of those on board, while he and a party of picked men stole silently to the other side in the rowboat, climbed to the deck and overcame all who opposed them. The bow was too high to scale, where it rested on the beach; the attack must be made near the stern, which sat low in the water.
Therefore the launch was quite necessary, as were the three men who were absent with it, so Ramon was angry with Francisco for not returning more promptly.
The outlaw paced up and down the rocks in the starlight and cursed his dilatory lieutenant most heartily.
But the launch was coming. In fact, two launches were coming to the bay.
As soon as night had really settled down, Mr. Radley-Todd quit loafing and suddenly became active. He carried his trussed and helpless prisoners, one by one, to the small launch and laid them gently along the bottom. He had already, during the afternoon, waded out to the larger launch of Ganza, bored a large hole in its bottom and then stopped the inrushing water with a plug. He chuckled while doing this, being greatly pleased by what he called his “foxy plan to fool the pirate.”
With his prisoners aboard, the boy shoved the Salvador’s launch into the water and cautiously paddled it between the rocks and to the side of the big launch, to which he attached it by means of a rope.
“I think I shall gag you boys, as you suggested,” he said to the prisoners, who by this time had become sullen and decidedly unfriendly.
“No!” cried Francisco, partly in anger and partly in fear; “it is not necessary. We know what to do.”
“Will you promise not to cry out and attract Ramon’s attention?”
“We swear it!” they all cried eagerly.
“Then I think I shall gag you. Not because I doubt your word but because I’ve whittled out three lovely gags and I’m anxious to see how they work.”
They began to protest vigorously at such unkind treatment, but Chesty gagged them, by turns, and they were effectually silenced.
“You boys are splendid actors,” he told them, admiringly, “and you are performing your parts with great credit to us all. No one would guess this was your plan, would he? Ramon least of all. If we are not captured, you will make an important addition to our party on the yacht. If we are, you will lie gloriously to Ramon and say I sneaked up behind you and sandbagged all three before you saw me. Eh? Never mind answering, for you can’t.”
As he spoke, Chesty climbed into the big launch and started the engines. They grumbled and refused to act, at first, but finally overcame their reluctance and the boat chug-chugged on its way to the south bay, making such a racket that the owls thought it was defying them and redoubled their frantic screeches.
“Ramon will be certain to hear me coming,” reflected the boy as the boat swept on. “He’s a clever scoundrel, that Mexican; exceptionally clever; but if he guesses this riddle he’s a wizard.”
He kept the launch well out from the shore and as it approached the points of rock behind which the yacht lay hidden he set the steering wheel to carry the boat a couple of hundred yards past the entrance to the bay, lashing it firmly in place. Then, while the engines continued their monotonous “chug-chug,” he pried the plug out of the bottom of the boat, crept aboard the Salvador’s launch and unfastened the rope, cutting the two craft apart. The big launch quickly forged ahead and Chesty sat down and let the smaller boat drift peacefully where it lay.
Ramon Ganza had heard his boat coming, as Chesty had intended he should. Greatly relieved, but still angry with Francisco, he ran as far out upon the point as the rocks would permit and peered through the starlight to catch sight of the approaching launch.
Presently it appeared, making good time, the old engines working steadily and doing their full duty. But it did not turn into the bay, for some extraordinary reason; instead, it kept straight on and headed for some indefinite point out at sea.
“Francisco!” shouted Ganza, in a rage; “Francisco — villain — fool! What are you doing? Wake up, Francisco! The idiot is asleep.”
As the precious launch did not halt, the outlaw ran along the shore, following its track and shaking his fist at the perverse Francisco with vengeful energy. Most of his men, attracted by their chief’s excitement, left their posts to join him on the shore; the others gazed wonderingly in the direction of the disappearing launch.
Meantime, Chesty Todd cautiously paddled his little boat into the bay, crept to the side of the yacht and uttered a low whistle — the signal agreed upon. Those on board, who had been interested in Ramon’s shouts and suspected something was about to happen, lost no time in lowering the davits and Chesty promptly attached the grappling hooks. A few moments later the launch and its occupants were safely on deck and the boy stepped out to be greeted by hearty handshakes and congratulations on his safe return.
“You’ll find three prisoners in the launch, Captain Krell,” he said. “When you remove their gags they’ll protest they are our friends; but I wouldn’t trust ‘em. Better lock’ em in the cage until this cruel war is over.”
“What has become of the Mexican’s launch?” asked Mr. Cumberford. “The pirates seem to be having some trouble over it.”
“It won’t bother ‘em for long,” replied Mr. Todd, complacently. “The boat is headed out to sea, all by its lonesome; but there’s a hole in the bottom and it’s fast filling with salt water. I imagine that within the next fifteen minutes it will go to Davy Jones’s locker, and be out of commission.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
ORISSA RETURNS
IF EVER MAN was thoroughly perplexed it was Ramon Ganza the outlaw. He heard his launch proceed for a distance out to sea, then listened while the engines hesitated and stopped, and saw the boat on which his liberty might depend whirl slowly around and disappear beneath the waves. What could it mean? Were his men on board, and had they met with some astonishing accident, or had they deliberately committed suicide? The curses died on his lips; the affair was too startling and too serious for mere raving; he must try to think of a logical solution of the problem.
The loss of the launch, his last refuge from captivity and imprisonment, left him caught like a wolf in a trap — in case he failed to get possession of the yacht. All night long he sat on a rock by the sea, smoking his black cheroots and thinking — thinking — thinking. Neither he nor his men knew that Chesty Todd had returned to the yacht; but if Ramon had known it he would not have attached especial importance to the fact. It would merely mean one more person to capture during the assault.
Morning found Ganza still deep in thought. He glanced rather uneasily at the ocean and at times swept the horizon with his glasses, which were slung by a strap to hi
s shoulder. His men brought him food and a cup of hot coffee, but dared not speak to him in his present mood. They suspected his case was growing desperate, yet they still retained confidence in their resourceful, clever master, who had never yet failed to accomplish whatever he undertook.
In this crisis of his career the fugitive, usually irritable and quick to act, proved his strength of mind by taking time to consider his position from all points and to weigh carefully the merits of the different plans that suggested themselves. He realized that an error at this time would prove fatal.
The hours wore on until, at about the middle of the afternoon, as Ganza made one of his periodic inspections of the horizon, his glasses caught a speck in the sky — a speck that moved and grew larger. At first he thought it a gull or an eagle; later he changed his mind, for the speck rapidly increased in size and took form, and the form was that of an aeroplane.
Those on the yacht saw it now and great was the wonder and excitement it caused. Here was a messenger from the great world, bringing them hope of succor or black disappointment. Presently the broad spreading planes bore down upon the island and circled gracefully over the ship.
“It’s Orissa!” they cried in chorus and Chesty Todd added: “She wants to land on deck. Clear a space — quick!”
They did the best they could. It seemed like a tiny place for that great sweeping thing to land on and even Sybil exclaimed: “She’ll never make it in the world!” But Orissa, hovering above them in her Aircraft, observed carefully the conditions below and shutting off her engine began to volplane.
Complete Works of L. Frank Baum Page 564