by Rex Beach
VIII
EL COMANDANTE TAKES A HAND
"Where are we?" queried Anthony, as he took in the surroundings.
"This is the prison, sar."
"Gee! I'm sick." Kirk lay back upon the platform and closed his eyes."Did they hurt you much?"
"Oh yes. Very considerably."
"Sorry I got you into it, Allan, I never thought they'd be so cranky."Again he groaned. "I want a drink."
"Let me get it. Those Spiggoties will not give it to you."
Allan went to the door and called to the guard. An instant later hereturned with a tin cup.
"I guess they knocked me out," Kirk said, dazedly. "I never was hitlike that before--and jailed! Say! We must get out of her. Call thechief or the man in charge, will you? I can't speak the language."
"Please, sar, if you h'anger them they will beat us again."
"Beat! Not here?"
"Oh yes. They might kill us."
"They wouldn't do that!"
"A white man they killed lahst h'autumn, and several of my people havepassed away in this prison. Nobody can 'ear nothing. Nobody knows what'appens 'ere."
"Oh, well, they wouldn't dare touch us--I'm an American citizen. I'llnotify the consul."
Roused at the mere suggestion. Kirk staggered to the door and shoutedlustily. When no one answered, he shook the iron grating, whereupon aguard leisurely approached, and, after listening stolidly to hisrequest, went back to his post at the other end of the hall. This timethe American sent forth such an uproar that a man evidentlycorresponding in authority to a sergeant appeared with the command tobe quiet.
"Let me out of here!" loudly demanded the prisoner. "I want the chief,or the alcalde, or somebody in charge. I want to know what I'm bookedfor, I want to telephone--TELEPHONE, don't you understand?--and arrangebail. Quick, now!"
But the officer merely frowned at him, obviously threatening a resortto force if this outburst did not cease at once.
"I tell you I want to get out," insisted Kirk. "I want to know what I'mcharged with and have my friends get bail."
The man nodded his understanding and went away, but an hour passed andhe did not return. Then another hour followed, and Anthony, who had nowbegun to feel the effect of his drubbing more keenly, renewed hisclamor, with the result that a half-dozen policemen appeared, causingAllan to retreat to a corner and mumble prayers. From their demeanor itlooked as though they were really bent upon mischief, but Kirk soon sawthat an official had come in answer to his call. He felt less reassuredwhen he perceived that the person in uniform who now stepped forwardwas the same upon whom he had turned the hose earlier in the evening.
This was a black-haired, black-eyed young fellow of, perhaps, thirty.While his skin was swarthy, even in this poor light it could be seenthat he was of the real Castilian type and of a much better class thanthe others. He was slender and straight, his mouth small and decoratedby a carefully pencilled little mustache, which was groomed to a needlesharpness. His hands and feet were as dainty as those of a woman. Hewas undeniably striking in appearance, and might have passed forhandsome had it not been for the scowl that distorted his features.
"Eh! 'ere you are," he began, angrily.
"Yes; I want to get out, too. What does this treatment mean?"
The new-comer stepped toward the other occupant of the cell, at whichAllan broke out in terror: "Don't you touch me. I'm a British object."
But it was evidently not the man's intention to offer any furtherindignity to his prisoners at that time. After scanning the Jamaicancarefully, he issued an order to one of his men, who left the room.
"And I'm an American," Anthony declared. "You'll have to answer forthis."
"Per'aps you don' know who I am. I am Ramon Alfarez, Comandante ofPolice, an' you dare' to t'row the water of the 'ose-wagon upon myperson. Your gover'ment will settle for those insolt." His white teethshowed in a furious snarl.
"I don't give a damn who you are. I'll get bail or do whatever your lawrequires, but I want to get out and I want to get out now."
The commandant's eyes flashed as he asked, shortly. "W'at is your name?"
"Anthony. Your men tried to kill that boy, and when I wouldn't standfor it they beat me up."
"You strock me wit' the water of the 'ose-carriage," repeated theother. "You 'ave assault the dignity of my country."
"I didn't know who you were. I was helping to stop that fire when youbutted in. Now, are you going to let me out, or do you want my peopleto pull this jail down around your ears?"
At this threat Senor Alfarez restrained his rage with an obviouseffort. "You will reply to those outrage, senor."
"Sure, I'll reply. But in the mean time I want to telephone to theAmerican consul. Look at this!" The young man held out his shaking,swollen wrists, upon which the blood was scarcely dry. "Look at it!Those runts of yours got handcuffs on me and then beat me up. I'm sick.So's that boy. We need a doctor."
Alfarez shook his head. "You resis' the police. Even in your countryone mus' not do that. 'Ave I been there, I would keel you both, but Iam 'aving a cheel at the moment from those stream of col' water."
"Will you take me to a telephone?"
"It is not permit."
"Will you notify Mr. Weeks?"
Receiving no reply to this request, Kirk broke out: "Well, then, whatARE you going to do? Let us stay here all night?"
"W'at is your bizness?"
"I haven't any."
"You don' work on the Canal?"
"No. I'm a tourist. My father is a big railroad man in the States. I'mtelling you this so you'll know how to act."
"W'ere do you leeve--w'at 'otel?"
"I've been stopping with Mr. Weeks."
Senor Alfarez's attitude became somewhat less overbearing.
"In due time he will be notify of your outrage to my person," heannounced.
The fellow who had left the room a moment before now reappeared,carrying a bucket of water and some towels, with which he directedAllan to remove the blood from his face and hands. When it came Kirk'sturn, however, he objected.
"I think I'll wait until Weeks sees me," he said.
But Alfarez retorted, sharply: "It is not permit"; and, seeing thatresistance would be useless, Kirk acquiesced as gracefully as he could,remarking as he did so:
"You'll have hard work washing off this, and this." He indicated thetraces of the handcuffs and the gash in his scalp.
The commandant turned to his men and addressed them at some length,calling them to task, as Allan later informed his companion, for usingtheir clubs in a manner to mark their prisoners so conspicuously. Thenhe followed them into the corridor, closing the grating behind him.
The hours passed, and daylight came with no word from the Americanconsul. By this time the two prisoners were really in need of medicalattention. Their contusions pained them severely. Kirk felt as if oneor more of his ribs were broken, and his suffering, combined withhunger, prevented sleep. He became feverish and fretful, but hisdemands for communication with the outside world were calmly ignored,although he felt certain that his wishes were fully understood. Whenthe morning had passed without his being arraigned for a hearing hegrew alarmed. Evidently he had been flung into confinement andforgotten.
Eventually Kirk and Allan were given food, but still no one came totheir relief. Apparently no message had been delivered. This treatmentwas so atrocious, so at variance with Anthony's ideas of his ownimportance, that he felt he must be suffering from nightmare. How daredthey treat an American so, no matter what the charge? Why didn't theytry him or give him a hearing? These insolent, overbearing Panamaniacshad no regard for law or humanity, and this was no longer a question ofpetty injustice; it was a grave infraction of civilized equity.
But the afternoon wore on without an encouraging sign, till Kirk beganto think that Weeks had refused to intercede for him and intended toleave him to the mercies of his enemies. With difficulty he managed toconvey to a guard his desire to notify some of the o
ther Americans inthe city, but as usual no heed was paid to his request.
It was considerably after dark when a visitor was at last admitted. Heproved to be the English consul, whom Anthony had never met.
"What are you doing here?" the new-comer inquired. Then, when the factshad been laid before him, he exclaimed: "Why, I heard that a Jamaicannegro had been arrested, but I heard nothing about mistreatment of awhite man."
"Doesn't anybody know I'm here?"
"I'm sure no one does. Those heathens lied to you--they nevercommunicated with Weeks or anybody. They're afraid. This is an oldtrick of theirs--man-handling a prisoner, then keeping him hidden untilhe recovers. If he doesn't recover they get out of it on some excuse orother, as best they can. Why, they killed a white sailor not longago--just plain clubbed him to death without excuse, then asserted thathe resisted arrest. They did the same to one of our negroes. He died inthe jail before I got wind of it, and when I started an investigationthey showed his signed statement declaring that he had not been abusedat all, and had been given the kindest treatment. The matter isn'tsettled yet. It's infamous! Why, I had hard work to get in at all justnow. But I'll have Allan here out in two hours or I'll know the reason.England protects her subjects, Mr. Anthony, and these people know it.If they don't come to time I'll have a gunboat in the harbor intwenty-four hours. Color doesn't amount to a damn with us, sir; it'sthe flag."
"I guess Uncle Sam is strong enough to command respect," said Anthony.
"Well, I know the circumstances now, and I'll go straight to Weeks. Hecan arrange your release without trouble. If you were an Englishman,I'd have you out in no time, and you'd collect handsome damages, too.This boy will."
True to the consul's prediction, a little later the Jamaican was ledout of the cell, and from the fact that he was not brought back Kirkjudged that the British intervention had been effectual. But it was notuntil the next morning, the second of his imprisonment, that the celldoor opened once more, this time to admit the portly figure of JohnWeeks and the spruce person of Senor Ramon Alfarez.
"What's all this trouble about?" inquired the former in none tooamiable a tone.
Kirk told his story as briefly and convincingly as he could. But whenhe had finished, the consul shook his head.
"I don't see what I can do for you," he said. "According to your owndeclaration you resisted a police officer. You'll have to take yourmedicine."
Alfarez nodded agreement. "Quite right!" said he. "He did terrible'avoc with my men, t'ree of which is now on the 'ospital."
"But why don't they try me or let me get bail? I want to get out."
"You'll be tried as soon as they get around to it."
"Look here!" Kirk showed the marks his assailants had left upon him."Will you stand for that? I've been here two nights now without medicalattention." "How about that, Alfarez?"
The commandant shrugged his shoulders. "If he require a doctor, oneshall be secure', but he is not severely injure.' I 'ave explain thefrightful indignity to the honor of my person, yes? As for me, pooh! Itis forget." He waved his hand gracefully and smiled sweetly upon hisfat visitor. "It does not exist. But the brave soldiers of mine! Ah!Senor Wick, they lofe me, they cannot forget the honor of elcomandante. So! When the prisoner is decide to insurrect, who can saythose gallant soldier don' be too strong? Who can blame for makingroff-'ouse?"
"I guess you ain't hurt much," said Weeks, eying his countryman coldly."You didn't get any more than was coming to you."
"I won't stand for this," cried the prisoner, hotly. "The Englishconsul got that nigger boy out, and I want you to do the same for me."
"You don't understand. I've got business interests in this country, andI can't dash about creating international issues every time an Americangets locked up for disorderly conduct. How long do you think I'd lastwith these people if I did that?"
"Are you really afraid to do anything?" Kirk inquired, slowly. "Or isit because of our row?"
"Oh, there's nothing personal about it! I can't afford personalfeelings in my position. Really, I don't see where you're so muchabused. You assaulted a government officer and resisted arrest. If yougot hurt it's your own fault. Of course I'll see that you have a fairtrial."
The commandant spoke up with ingratiating politeness: "The prisoner sayhe is reech man's son. Now, of course, it is too bad he is injure' wit'the clob of the policeman; but those officer is ver' polite, senor, andif he is explain biffore--"
Weeks snorted indignantly. "He gave you that fairy tale, eh? He saidhis name was Anthony and his father was a railroad president, didn'the? Well, he imposed on me, too, but his name is Locke, and, as near asI can learn, he practically stowed away on the SANTA CRUZ."
"Ah-h!" The officer's eyes widened as he turned them upon his prisoner."He is then a w'at you call tramp."
"All I know is, he stuck me for a lot of bills. I'll have to see thathe gets fair treatment, I suppose, because he's an American, but thatends my duty."
"Is this the best you'll do for me?" Kirk inquired, as Weeks made readyto go.
"Yes."
"Will you tell some of the men at the Wayfarers that I'm here?"
"Oh, that won't do any good. You're in for it, Locke, so don't holler.I'll be on hand at your hearing."
"Will you cable my father?"
"At twenty-five cents a word? Hardly!" The speaker mopped his face,exclaiming: "There's no use of talking, I've got to get out in the air;it's too hot in here for me." Then he waddled out ahead of SenorAlfarez, who slammed the door behind him as he followed to escort hiscaller to the street.
But a half-hour later the commandant returned to the cell, and thistime he brought with him a number of his little policemen, each armedwith a club. Feeling some menace in their coming, Kirk, who had seatedhimself dejectedly, arose to ask: "What's coming off?"
Alfarez merely issued some directions in Spanish, and chain handcuffswere once more snapped upon the prisoner's wrists.
"So! you're going to hold my trial, eh?" cried Kirk.
But the other snarled: "Senor Locke, you 'ave force' the water of the'ose-wagon upon my body for making the people laugh. Bueno! Now I shalllaugh." He seated himself, then nodded at his men to begin.