The Hero of Panama: A Tale of the Great Canal

"Not one little bone ob him brokee, sah," he said. "But plenty fine upset. Got de headachee velly badly. To-mollow, when him wake up, oh him so velly ill. Him groan ever so much. Him giddy and velly sick, and him wish eber so much him neber been a rascal, and neber met dat great big nigger dere. Him tink him one big black debil. Him hate Tom."

"He! he! he! Ho! ho! ho!" came in uproarious tones from the huge negro seated at the table, smoking so comfortably. Then Tom suddenly became very serious.

"Yo Chinee boy," he cried, "yo son ob yellow gun, yo listen here. Tom not like serve a man same as dat always. Him very gentle as a rule. But, by de poker, when a villain try to shoot and cut de throat of Massa Jim, den time to do tings! Not time to talk. Dat come afterwards. De man dere sorry in course dat he met me; but dat altogether his fault, I guess. He shouldn't hab laid a hand on de young massa. Now yo dere, in de corner, what yo squintin' outer de door for? You tink get away. By de poker, show you dat! Beat you into squash and jelly!"

He switched the conversation round to his prisoner, for Jaime was staring out through the door of the hut, as if he had intentions of making a dash for liberty. But Tom's voice brought him to his senses. The man – a Spaniard by his appearance, but one evidently long departed from his own country, and well able to speak and understand English – shrivelled up into his corner, while into his black, beady eyes there came a hopeless expression, the expression to be met with on the face of a condemned criminal who knows he is past relief. It seemed evident, too, that Jaime was in that position, for a little while after, while Jim was bathing the face of the man who lay unconscious on the floor, a force of Colon police arrived, and quickly took affairs into their own hands. A smart officer entered the hut without ceremony.

"Huh!" he exclaimed, when he had taken a swift glance round. "The watchin' ended in a ruction, that's evident. Who's that?"

He stepped to the table, leaned both hands on it, and stared into the corner where the prisoners cowered. Tom coolly removed his pipe from between his lips, nodded to the officer, and then turned on Jaime.

"Dat?" he asked, pointing with the stem of his pipe. "Oh, dat a very brave prisoner dat try to kill Massa Jim, and now very sorry! Stand up dere, yo in de corner. Stand up, or, by lummy, Tom want to know what fo!

"Now den," continued Tom, when the wretch had risen to his feet, shivering with fright. "Who am yo?"

"That don't matter one single brass pin ter me," ejaculated the officer suddenly, his colour heightening, his voice taking on a tone of exultation. "Reckon it's my business to know who every criminal is. Jaime de Oteros, you're badly wanted. Guess there's a score of charges up against you. Boys, jest come in here."

He put his fingers to his lips and sent forth a shrill whistle, which instantly brought a couple of policemen into the hut.

"Handcuffs for 'em both," said the officer shortly. "Search 'em for weapons. Now then, siree?"

He turned on Jim serenely, and extended a hand. "Tell me all about it. Of course the darkie you sent along got to work and poured a whole heap of stuff into my ear as we ran here. Guess I know who you are, where you come from, and the very first day you ever had measles. There ain't many young chaps around same as Massa Jim."

There was a broad smile on his face, and the grip he gave our hero was unusually cordial. "Gee!" he went on; "a real good coloured servant is a thing to be proud of. Reckon you've two. You're jest about lucky. Those boys think all the world of you, and I've been too long amongst them not to have learned that there's always a good reason when things are like that. You've got to be extra good and plucky and all that. But let's get to business. What happened?"

Jim told him abruptly. "It was precious near a case with me," he smiled. "This fellow Jaime did his best to kill me. That's a reminder; he stuck his knife through my shoulder."

Strange to say he had forgotten the matter, and till now had had but little pain. But now he recollected, and, slipping off his jacket, exposed his arm high up near the shoulder. The officer at once inspected the wound, while Tom, and Sam, who had now arrived upon the scene, bent over him anxiously.

"Not enough to stop you enjoying a single meal," declared the officer. "Little more than skin deep, and made by a knife that had cleaned itself as it passed through your clothing. A dressing put there right away will fix the matter for good. Thomas," he sang out. Then, as another man appeared, dressed in Commission uniform: "see here, my lad, we want that first-aid case of yours. Get to work at this gentleman's shoulder. Now, sir," he went on, "you can continue the tale while Thomas is busy. These fellows tried to murder you. You had surrounded the place, I understand, and had sent Sam there back into Colon. Wall, now, what next?"

In a few words Jim described how one of the rascals had detected him as he looked in through the window. How the ruffian, the same who had fired at him earlier in the evening, had again narrowly missed striking him with a bullet, and how the whole five had then thrown themselves on him.

"Here's the result of it all," he ended. "I should have been killed but for Tom. But he arrived just in the nick of time. We took three prisoners between us; two have managed to get away."

"And that man who fired at you?" asked the officer.

"He is one of the two escaped."

"Then there's a chase before us. You'll come right along to the office, sir, where we can talk matters over. Wait while I see these rascals handcuffed to my men. But let me congratulate you and your men, sir. You did as well as any police could have done, and you showed no end of pluck. Boys, get to with those prisoners. Four of you can carry the man who's insensible. Two each to the others will be enough. Bring 'em along, boys. This is a fine evening for the police of Colon."

That the capture of three of these notorious ruffians was indeed a matter for congratulation was brought still more forcibly to Jim's mind some little time later; for, having trudged into Colon, the whole party entered the offices of the Police Commissioner there, and came face to face with that gentleman. He had been hurriedly aroused, and had at once turned out of his bed to learn what had happened. His eyes lit up with a smile as the officer who had gone to the scene of the capture introduced Jim.

"Very glad to meet you, sir," said the Commissioner. "Now tell me all about it. This, of course, will be only a preliminary enquiry; I shall remand the prisoners to the cells, and their case will be taken later. Then, of course, I shall require your evidence, and that of your men. Please state who you are?"

"James Partington, sir; from New York."

"Lately arrived, eh?"

"No, sir. Been cruising in the Caribbean with a salvage plant. Then took a passage to New York. There was a collision, and a number of Spaniards aboard the ship fought for the boats. I – er – I helped the – "

"Pardon, I recollect. Shake hands, sir."

The officer leaned over his desk and gripped Jim's fingers, while a most friendly smile played across his lips. "Of course, I recollect," he said. "The matter was published in the paper. Seen the article?"

Jim shook his head. "I haven't had much time," he said. "There have been so many things to do since I arrived in the zone."

"Then your ears will burn, my lad. The man who wrote that account put the plain truth forward. He had interviewed the captain and his men. Mr. James Partington seems to have been the hero of the occasion."

He laughed outright, seeing Jim flush to the roots of his hair, and then became serious again.

"There, forgive my chaff," he said. "But you behaved handsomely, Mr. Partington. Now tell me how this other matter cropped up."

Jim told him in as few words as possible. "You see," he said lamely, "I couldn't very well help myself. I stayed on in the zone, and Mr. Phineas B. Barton promised to obtain work for me. I had a turn with one of the steam diggers, and it was arranged that I should be appointed to work one. I went back to Mr. Barton's quarters this evening – "

"Last night, you mean," interrupted the officer with a smile. "It is now 2.30 in the morning."

Jim was startled. The hours had simply flown, and he could hardly realize that so much time had elapsed since he set off from his quarters. "I had no idea," he murmured. "But yesterday evening, to be accurate, I was sitting in the parlour with Mr. Barton when a man shot at me through the gauze window."

"At you? How do you know that?" The question came like a pistol shot.

"I guess it. I am not absolutely sure. I may be wrong, but you will hear my reasons. We set out in pursuit. Sam there," and he nodded to the little negro who was following the interrogation with shining eyes and wide-open ears – "Sam tracked the fellow. He took us to a hut in which a light was burning. We surrounded it. I went to the window, and recognized one of the men as a Spaniard who had been aboard the ship, and whom I had knocked down in the fight. He had, apparently, just joined his fellows. There were five in all."

"Points to his being the man who shot at you, and to you being the one at whom he fired. To-morrow we'll settle it. Sam there will follow the tracks if he can."

It was amusing to see the little negro's eyes open wide. There was an expression almost of a feeling of injury about them.

"What dat, sah?" he demanded. "Sam not able to follow track? I like dat, I do. Sam start tracking when him so high." And he placed a hand a couple of feet from the floor, much to the amusement of all. "Sam larn to track way down in de south. Dat rubbish villain leave heap of mark. Plenty soft ground. To-morrow – to-day, sah, I tink, 'cos it's past midnight – to-day Sam pick up de mark and tell you plenty quick who it am and what happened."

"Then that'll fix the matter. What next?" asked the officer.

"I recognized one of the gang as a man whose photograph had been published; in fact, I recognized them all. I remembered the name, Jaime de Oteros. Then I reckoned we had made a find and that you would like to hear. I sent Sam away, and – and there you are."

"Pardon, there we are certainly not yet awhile. I was asleep at the time. Kindly proceed, sir."

Jim answered the officer's encouraging smile by giving him an account of the fight, while the eager Tom burst in with an interruption from time to time.

"Me wanted to hang um quick," he explained. "But Massa Jim angry, scowl at Tom, say tings beneath him breath."

It was pure invention; Jim swung round upon the negro with flashing eyes. But who could be angry with Tom? The fellow's face was wreathed in smiles. His merry features were divided by a wide seven-foot rift, extending from ear to ear, and displayed a double set of teeth which would have been a paying advertisement for a dentist.

"The long and the short of it is this, sir," said the officer. "You and your very eager friends have done the police a great service, for which we are deeply grateful. Now, I will take formal evidence of identity, and send the prisoners to the cells. I advise that you all go back to your quarters by a roundabout route, so as not to spoil tracks. I will send a couple of men to the hut to keep people away. At eight o'clock I will call upon you, when we will go into the question of the tracks and discuss what is to be done. The escape of those two rascals means a chase. We cannot afford to lose them now that we have captured three."

He leaned over and shook hands with Jim. Then, with a pleasant nod, he banished the party to bed. Taking the lamp, Sam lit it and led the way, and very soon they were back at their quarters, there to meet with Phineas's eager questions. At eight o'clock that morning, when Jim imagined that he had hardly enjoyed half an hour's sleep, the Police Commissioner appeared, and very soon it became evident that the canal works would not see our hero yet awhile. In fact, there was another adventure before him.

"We're going to follow those rascals," said the officer. "I'd like you to come along, for you can recognize them. Of course it'll be dangerous. The fellows are armed; I'm not disguising that from you. Are you game to come?"

Was Jim game? He laughed at the officer's caution.

"See here, sir," he said with a smile, "guess I'm not one of the police, and thief catching isn't in my work, but I've a personal stake here. If this man ain't apprehended I stand to be shot at any time. Besides, every American citizen wants to help the police. It's a duty; of course I'm game."

CHAPTER VIII

In Hot Pursuit

"From information received, a small steam launch put out from the Bay of Limon at the first streak of dawn, and steamed towards the east," said Major Pelton, the police officer who had interrogated Jim at night, putting on his most official voice for the occasion. "It was not hired; it was seized by a couple of men. They found the boat lying alongside the staging, ready to take a party out to a hulk we have lying off the coast. They stole her."

"Proof positive that they are the men we are after," ventured Jim, throwing himself back in the well of the little motor launch in which he and his comrades found themselves.

"It's sartin'," came from Sam, his eyes shining brightly, as was usual when he was at all excited.

"Precisely; proof positive, as you say. The useful Sam tracked the man's steps to your quarters from that hut. Then back again, and finally, after a detour in some scrub, where no doubt he remained hidden with his comrade, straight down to Port Limon. We are on the right track; but it will be difficult to adhere to it."

The officer glanced round at the occupants of the launch, and found little to encourage him. True, provided his party could come up with the escaped criminals, it was highly probable that they would be taken; for the handsome launch with which the American Canal Commission had provided its Colon people carried, besides the officer and Jim, three members of the Colon police force, fully armed, as well as Tom, Sam, and Ching.

"You had better bring them all along," the Major had said, when discussing the matter. "Tom is a lusty fellow, and evidently full of pluck, while Sam is a first-class tracker. Some of those negroes one gets from the southern States are extremely quick and skilful, and he is amongst them. Ching, you say, is a good cook."

"Cookee fo ebelybody, sah; make de stew, boil de kettle. Plenty good cookee Ching makee," had been the response of the wily Chinee when he heard of the proposition.

So it turned out that all the friends were together again, armed with rifles on this occasion, and aboard a fine motor launch.

"Thirty horse-power, gasolene motor," explained the Major. "There's not another craft in these waters which can outstrip her. In fact, if only we can trace those ruffians, we shall have them nicely. Now, sir, you've had to do with motors; can you manage for us?"

Fortunately a gasolene motor was one of those things which had always attracted our hero from the first moment he had been able to comprehend its action; and it chanced, seeing that much of his time had been spent in seaports, or closely adjacent thereto, he had had many opportunities of studying the marine variety. Immediately he put foot aboard this launch he had stooped over the half-covered-in engine, and had examined it with a friendly and observant eye.

"Yes," he responded instantly, his eye brightening; "yes, Major, I can run her, I guess. Thirty horse-power! I reckon we shall move along quick. What about gasolene store?"

"Ample aboard. Her tanks are full; I saw to that at the first moment. She has been handed over to us fully equipped, with rations aboard sufficient for a week. I had only to collect men and ammunition. Now, sir."

Jim had already started his engine, and at the word he pushed over his gear lever, retarded the engine a little, and sent the boat gently heading out to sea.

"Due east," said the Major.

"Due east it is, sir," responded Jim promptly.

"And run up alongside any boat you may see in our course. We must make every enquiry."

It was a sensible plan to pursue, for all that the party was sure of was the fact that the miscreants they were in search of had steamed out to sea from the Bay of Limon, and had taken an easterly course. Beyond that fact there was nothing to direct them. Nor were they fortunate in obtaining information till late that afternoon, when they sighted a coaster lazily sailing parallel with the low-lying, muddy shore.

"Have I seed anything of a steam launch hereabouts?" repeated the skipper, a typical Yankee, waddling to the rail of his boat as the launch came alongside. "See here, siree, I observed a launch jest sich as you ask fer steaming easy along the coast twenty mile back of this. She was kinder heading in to find a port. There's lagoons way long there, and, mebbe she's got right into one of 'em. You don't happen to be wantin' the folks aboard?"

He cocked his eye in a knowing wink, and regarded the uniform of the policeman.

"I reckon not," he continued garrulously. "But ef you was – only ef you actually was wantin' 'em – why, I'd get peepin' in at every little hollow with that 'ere queer craft of yourn. Say, what are she? Gasolene?"

The Major nodded. "Thirty horse-power," he said. "Runs well."

"Jest a daisy! Wish I was aboard her instead of this old scow. But I'm too old fer the game. Slow and steady's my motto. Goody to yer."

He helped to push the launch away from the side of his vessel with a long pole, and then stood watching her as she went away through the water, leaving a long, white trail behind her. As for Jim and his friends, they ran in closer to the shore, and, since the light would soon be failing, speeded up their engine and pushed ahead at a pace which was decidedly smart.

"Six or seven knots faster than the steam launch can make," said the Major. "If only we can sight the spot where they have put in before darkness comes, we ought to make short work of them to-morrow. In any case we must discover some sort of haven in which to lie to-night."

But, search as they might, it was already dusk before Tom's sharp eyes hit upon an opening on the flat, dismal coast.

"Fresh water come down dere," he cried, after a while, staring coastward. "Water blue and clean, not same as dis hereabouts. By lummy, but dere a riber in dere, where we can lie fo to-night. Den boil de kettle, cook de meal, hab little sing-song."

"I don't think so," exclaimed Jim at once. "If we make a port there'll be no singing, especially from a noisy fellow such as you are. But I believe he's right, Major; the water does seem clearer here. Probably a stream running into the sea."

"Then we'll explore. We can't venture farther along in any case, and it will be dark even now before we enter unless we hurry. Push her along, my lad; but go easy as we get close in."

Thanks to the fact that the gasolene launch drew but a couple of feet of water, there was no need for extreme caution; and, besides, the coast thereabouts was practically free of rocks. Still, there was mud, mud in abundance, and were the launch to run hard upon it she would stick in that position, so arresting further pursuit.

"Easy now!" commanded the Major, after a while, when the land was close at hand, and a thick fringe of tropical vegetation within close range. "There's the river entrance; narrow enough in all conscience. Take her along to the centre, Jim, and be ready to reverse if I give the order."

He went clambering along past his men till he sat right forward, the diminutive Sam joining him there, as if he thought he needed help. In fact, but for the little fellow's sharp eyes they would certainly have brought the expedition to an abrupt conclusion, for a huge sunken tree blocked a goodly portion of the river channel just at its exit into the sea.

"Hold dere!" shouted Sam, raising both hands. "Back um! Yo see dat snag down dar, sah? Him rip de bottom out ob us quick as noting. Break um up, send de boat to Davy Jones, and all ob us to the sharks or crocodiles. Back um, Massa Jim!"

"He's right! I can see it now – a huge tree," sang out the Major. "That's very awkward. Seems to prove that we are on the wrong track."

"'Spose yo gib Sam de painter, den swim or wade ashore. Easy pull de launch right up to de tree, den see wheder we can get past um. If too much in de way, den put Tom oberboard. Him lift de tree away. If crocodile dere, no matter; Tom very good to eat."

The little man grinned at the big negro, while the latter shook an enormous fist at him, and bared his teeth in just that same manner as had had such effect upon Jaime de Oteros. But Sam recked little of the signal.

"Yo one big, hulkin' nigger, yo," he grinned. "Yo eat wonderful nice and tasty."

Meanwhile Jim had been careful to reverse his engine, and lay with his machinery out of gear, awaiting further orders.

"Steady ahead! just a few revolutions!" commanded the Major. "Enough! That has brought us right up to the tree. Now, can one pass by it?"

The dusk was already falling outside, while here, beneath the trees which clung in luxuriant profusion to the banks on either side of the entrance to the river, it was already so dark that a white man was troubled. Neither the Major, nor Jim, nor the policemen, could detect much of their surroundings, but in the case of Sam it might have been brilliant daytime. He peered over the edge of the launch, then flopped full length on to the tiny deck she carried forward, and, pushing himself over the side, finally gripped the tree with one hand, his weight suspended between the latter and the launch. A startled cry came from him, a cry which brought Tom labouring up beside him.

"Yo hurt yoself?" he demanded abruptly. "Hi, yo, Sam, what de matter?"

"Massa Jim, we got um! We bottled dem men up fine and safe. Dey good as hanged. Dey jest as well might be dancin' on thin air at dis very instant."

Sam ignored the huge negro – in fact ignored everyone aboard save Jim – in his anxiety to make a report direct to his master. "Yo see here," he called out, turning slightly so as to be able to look aft, and still clinging half to the launch and half to the fallen tree. "Yo come along and look fo yoself. Tom, yo great big elephant, yo git along to one side. There ain't no sorter room for a person when yo's hereabouts."

There was an air of suppressed excitement about the little fellow which caused Jim to leave his engine and hasten forward.

"Well?" he demanded curiously. "You've found something? What is it?"

"Reckon dem 'ere blackguard run in here full tilt, I do. Dey come whop up agin de tree, and precious nigh upset. Dere's a dent right here big enough to put de hand in. Stop a minute. Sam soon say if dey passed."

Without waiting for his master, he slipped into the water, to discover it deep enough almost to submerge him. But Sam was more like a fish than anything. He struck out for the tree, reached it, and clambered down towards that portion which seemed to have sunk deepest. In the gloom they saw him stretching out a hand to the opposite bank. He gripped a branch hanging conveniently overhead, and then swung in the water.

"Dey come right along plump in here," he sang out "Den dey sheer off, and steam in alongside. Jest room enough. See here, Massa Jim, plenty space to swing de legs. Plenty room to float de launch; but I make extry sure. Yo see in one little bit."

They heard him splash down into the stream, while there came to their ears the swish of the branch suddenly relieved of his weight. Then the fitful rays played upon the splashes as the negro breasted the water and swam upstream. Presently the swish of his strokes ceased, and his voice was heard again, some little distance inland.

"Yo kin jest steer to de right ob dat stump, yo can, Massa Jim. Plenty water. Reckon dem scum come along right in here. We hab um. Dere big lagoon way along a little furder."

Thus it proved when the party had forced the boat past the obstruction guarding the river exit. Jim pushed his lever over a very little, and sent his propeller whirling just for so long as would give the launch way against the sluggish stream. As he did so Tom leaned his ponderous figure over the stem, causing it to dip violently, and, gripping the tree, directed the boat into clear water. A few more revolutions sent the launch through, and in time brought her abreast of Sam. They found the little fellow poised on a branch overhanging the water, for all the world as if he were a monkey, and from that position he dropped like a cat on to the deck of the launch.