Where Duty Called; or, In Honor Bound

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Where Duty Called; or, In Honor Bound Page 11

by George Waldo Browne


  CHAPTER IX.

  THE MYSTERY OF THE PHOTOGRAPH.

  "It seemed as if I could not miss, Jack; but I do not care to gothrough that ordeal again."

  "Nor I, Ronie. But now that we are safe, let's look after the chapover our heads. It must be he needs our aid bad enough. I never sawone in just such a predicament."

  The hapless man had ceased his outcries, and was trying to find outwhat had taken place underneath him, and as to what bearing it wouldhave upon his fate. Seeing no other way to reach him, Ronieimmediately climbed the tree holding him. His weight, added to that ofthe other's, caused the sapling to bend so that Jack was soon able toreach the poor fellow by standing under him.

  "A little lower, lad, and I shall be able to get him. His feet arecaught in the tree's bootjack, but I--there! I have got him free andclear. Look out that the tree doesn't hang you up."

  Jack quickly laid the man upon the ground, and began to straighten outhis limp limbs.

  "Has he fainted?" asked Ronie, quickly joining him by springing fromthe tree to the earth, leaving the sapling to leap back into its normalposition with a force that cut the air like a lash.

  "He is overcome by his experience. But he'll soon come out all right,as I do not see that he has been injured more than a few scratches.Looks like a tolerable sort of a fellow for a South American. Got alittle of the native blood in him mixed up with the Spanish. Hebelongs to the common class."

  The man was a person of middle age, of slight figure, but wiry build.He presented a somewhat warlike nature by the armament he carried abouthis body. This consisted of a pair of heavy pistols, a huge knife, andinside his stout jacket a pair Of smaller pistols were to be seen. Healso had fastened about his waist by a belt a good stock of cartridges,evidently for the firearm Ronie had picked up. Certainly it had notbeen for a lack of means of defense that he had fared so roughly in hismeeting with the jaguar.

  It seemed like a long time to our friends before he opened his eyes andrevived enough to seek a sitting posture. Then he rubbed his head,stared stupidly about, and tried to regain his feet, giving expressionto his surprise in Spanish. Both Jack and Ronie were able to conversein that language, and Jack at once assured him of his safety at thatmoment.

  He was profuse in his thanks, though somewhat reticent in regard tohimself. He had climbed a tree near the sapling, but somehow had losthis footing and fallen into the topmost branches of the latter.Lodging between the branches of this his weight had brought it and himinto the positions in which they had been found. The jaguar had comealong, and discovering him began at once its attempted attack. Thatwas what Jack and Ronie made out of his disjointed account.

  "I do not know what to make of him," said Jack, aside in English. "Heis either afraid of us, or he is a rogue. Probably both. I will seeif I can find out where we are."

  Then, addressing the Venezuelan, he said:

  "How far is it to the nearest town?"

  "You mean San Carlos, senor?"

  "_Si, senor_," replied Jack, at a hazard.

  "Have you friends at San Carlos?" asked the other, without answeringthe question propounded him.

  "I hope so, senor."

  This reply seemed to stagger him for a moment, but he managed torecover in a moment, when he said:

  "How long have you been in this country, Senor Americanos?"

  "Since sunrise," was the reply, which gave the other a second surprise.

  "I do not understand, senor."

  Thinking nothing could be gained by withholding all of the truth fromhim, Jack soon explained how they had been lost overboard from a vesselin the gulf, picked up by another, and then left ashore among strangersin a strange land. He did not consider it necessary or advisable toenter into descriptions of the ships they had recently left. If hisaccount aroused at first some suspicion in the mind of the Venezuelan,Jack's honesty of tone quickly dispelled this, and the other said:

  "You have been unfortunate, senors. There are many ships upon the seaat this time who do not care to pick up strangers. No doubt the craftwas one of Castro's spies. They are looking far and wide for the_Libertador_, but they cannot find her," he concluded, showing evidentpleasure at the thought. Then he asked, as if a new thought had comesuddenly to him:

  "What do they say of us in the Great Republic?"

  "The sympathy of the United States is ever with the down-trodden,"replied Jack, cautiously. "But we are not able to say just how ournation looks upon the revolution here, except that it will see fairplay, for you must remember it has been nearly a year since we lefthome."

  The other showed his disappointment at this, but soon asked:

  "Have you friends in this country?"

  "If we were at Caracas we might find them."

  At this the man shook his head.

  "It would be worth more than your lives to get to Caracas at this time.The 'Sons of Liberty' are looking sharp after the dogs of Castro."

  "This man is one of the insurgents," was the thought which camesimultaneously to Jack and Ronie. Then the latter asked:

  "You said we were near to San Carlos. Is this town held by Castro orby the followers of Matos?"

  "You prove yourself a stranger, senor, by your words. San Carlos holdsthe blackest spot on fair Venezuela, the dungeon that keeps in captivechains the noble El Mocho."

  "You mean General Hernandez, senor? I have heard of him. But Ithought he was once friendly to Castro."

  "So he was, senor, until the tyrant abused the common people, then ElMocho led his gallant followers against Castro, was betrayed by acowardly dog, and now he lies at San Carlos a captive."

  "Do you live near here?"

  "_Si, senor._" Then he added, with a curve of his lips, which gave anugly-looking smile: "When I am at home. I was going hither when I metwith this little adventure, which would have ended the warfare ofManuel Marlin for the freedom of poor Venezuela. If you will come withme the hospitality of my humble home is at your disposal."

  "I do not think we can do any better than to go with him," said Jack,aside to Ronie, "providing we keep our eyes and ears open."

  Ronie was about to signify his assent, when an object nearly buried inthe crumpled foliage and torn up earth where the jaguar had made itsstand, caught his attention. It was about the size of an ordinarypostal card, and at first glance looked like a piece of cardboard. ButRonie had discovered on the other side a portrait, which prompted himto pick up the photograph, as it proved to be.

  It was crumpled and soiled, but hastily brushing as much of the dirtfrom it as he could, he gazed earnestly at the sweet, womanly facepictured before him. As he gazed the color left his countenance, hishand shook so it threatened to drop the card, while he exclaimed in ahusky voice:

  "My mother!"

  Jack showed almost as much emotion as his young companion, as hestepped quickly beside him, saying:

  "Your mother's photograph in this place? How can that be?"

  "I do not know, Jack. But it is surely hers. See! It was taken inNew York."

  "Doubtless Senor Marlin can throw some light upon the matter," declaredJack. "You picked it up almost under where he had been hanging. Thephotograph fell from one of your pockets, Senor Manuel?" asked Jack,addressing the Venezuelan.

  The latter had retreated a few paces, and he showed considerableagitation, while he shook his head, replying in a low tone:

  "If it was in my pocket, I did not know it, senors. Some one else musthave dropped it here. It would not be strange, as there are manyscouts in the forests at this time."

  Both Jack and Ronie felt sure that the man was trying to deceive them,but deemed it wise not to let him know it.

  "I mistrust the fellow," whispered Jack, aside. "We must keep a closewatch upon him. I do not think he understands English, so he does notknow what relation the portrait may bear to you. Let's feignindifference in the matter, and keep with him."

  So Ronie placed the photograph in one of his pockets
without furtherremarks, though he found it difficult to conceal his emotions. Whilehe was doing this Jack signified to Manuel Marlin that they wereanxious to go to his home, or at least to be shown the way out of theforest. Then, with rapid steps, the Venezuelan led the way out of thejungle, not once looking back in his hasty advance. This gave ourfriends opportunity to exchange thoughts, though they were careful notto say enough to arouse the suspicions of their guide.

  "I cannot understand what it means," declared Ronie. "How couldmother's picture be brought here, and why?"

  As this was a question Jack could not answer, he merely shook his head,adding:

  "This fellow, or some of his friends, may have been in New York, andaccidentally picked it up. In that case it would not indicate anycause for worriment."

  "I cannot help feeling, Jack, that there is some other explanation. Icannot help thinking that in some way it portends trouble to mother.It can do no harm to question this fellow more closely in regard to thematter."

  "We will take our chances on that score, though I believe he is athoroughbred liar."

  Then they did question this man as closely as they thought prudent, butwithout gleaning a single ray of light upon the subject. In fact, hepersisted in maintaining an absolute ignorance in regard to it. Sofinally Ronie was compelled to drop the subject, while he tried in vainto find some plausible explanation of the mystery.

  Manuel Marlin showed that he was glad of the sight ahead, when at lastthey reached the edge of the forest, and found themselves looking atthe rim of sandy sea-coast, with the glimmer of water in the distance.The day was very calm, and the bay stretched as smoothly as if formedof plate glass, while overhead the sky had that peculiar flatappearance so common in the tropics.

  "Does senors see that dismal building on yonder point of land?" askedtheir guide, and, without waiting for their reply, went on: "It is thefort of San Carlos, where the 'El Mocho' is chained like a dog!"

  "Look yonder!" exclaimed Ronie, "there is a train of men going thithernow."

  "Looks to me as if they were conducting prisoners to the penitentiary,"said Jack. "If my old eyes do not deceive me one of them is anAmerican."

  "I am sure you are right, Jack. Let's get a little nearer, so we cansee as they pass along."

  Their guide showed some hesitation in doing this, though he led the waysomewhat circuitously forward, so as to gain a view of the soldierytrain without being seen themselves, saying as he did so:

  "This is more of the dirty work of Castro's dogs of war."

 

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