The Boy Scouts at the Panama Canal Part 28

"But we only want one."

"We don't want 'em to chase us, do we?" exclaimed the fat boy sharply.

"Over with 'em I say."

Fred shoved the two dugouts off. In a jiffy the current caught them and they went sailing out of sight. At the same instant there came another flash of lightning. It showed the river, swollen and angry, racing furiously along.

"Can you handle a paddle, Fred?" asked Tubby.

"Yes; I had a canoe on the Hudson," was the reply.

"Well, this is going to beat any Hudson you ever saw. There's a storm in the mountains evidently, and the river is rising every minute. It can't be helped, though. Take a paddle and shove off."

Luckily both boys knew something about canoes or the start of that dugout would likewise have been its finish. But they saved it by skillful, swift handling from a capsize. The next instant they were in it, being hurled off at a dizzy pace down the rushing current. Behind them came yells and savage shouts. Their escape had evidently been discovered, probably when a change of guards was made.

"Whoop!" shouted Tubby back defiantly. "We're off on the Chagres Limited, you shirtless sons of iniquity; it'll take better men than you to catch us now!"

The cranky canoe rocked wildly, and then shot off into the darkness, hurtled along by the sweeping current of an unknown river.

CHAPTER XXVII.

"BE PREPARED."

We must now go back to Mr. Raynor and Merritt whom we left in the launch, a prey to no very enviable thoughts. As the sound of Rob's and Mr.

Mainwaring's footsteps died away in the forest, they fell to speculating on the fate of their young comrades. All at once Merritt turned to his companion with an exclamation.

"Isn't the river current flowing more swiftly?" he asked.

Mr. Raynor gazed over the side at the muddy stream.

"It surely is," he decided. "I shouldn't wonder but there's a storm back in the mountains."

As the stream flowed more swiftly and with greater volume Merritt looked with some anxiety at their anchor rope. It was not a particularly thick one and the stream was tugging frantically at the launch. Suddenly, without the slightest warning, there was a sharp snapping sound and the rope parted. Before they had time to exchange a word, the launch was a hundred yards down stream. It was almost impossible to turn her about or direct her course, but accident accomplished for them what they had not been able to do for themselves. The _Pathfinder_ suddenly struck a sand bank, gave a giddy sort of yaw and swung round, heading bow on down the stream.

The next instant the current which was still rising caught her and shot her off down stream with her bow pointing in the right direction. Mr.

Raynor grabbed the spokes of the steering wheel before the craft had a chance to smash into the bank and Merritt set the engine slowly going on reverse so as to check, as much as possible, the furious speed. He had grave doubts of the patched-up link holding, but he nursed it along as carefully as he could.

It was not till they had gone some distance that either of them had a chance to speak, and then naturally their first words were about those they had left behind. What anxieties beset them may be imagined. Two of their number were lost; the pair that had set out to find them would return either with or without the castaways, but in any case to find the launch gone. That it was all as unavoidable as fate made no difference to the seriousness of the situation.

The _Pathfinder_, handled with consummate skill by Mr. Raynor, reached the Gatun settlement that evening, and the news spread like wildfire that the boys were lost and that Mr. Mainwaring had been left, by force of circ.u.mstances, in the forest. Everyone there appreciated the gravity of the situation. The river was rising and it might be impossible to ascend it for a week, even if then.

From the vivid flashes of lightning visible in the far-off peaks it was clear that back in the wild Cordillera the storm was raging savagely. The water continued to rise. After supper Mr. Raynor, in charge during Mr.

Mainwaring's absence, wrote out a telegram to Lieut. Col. Goethals informing him of what had happened. Merritt, who was aching for something to do, volunteered to take it to the little telegraph office by the railroad track; for the head official of the ca.n.a.l was in Colon inspecting the work there, having left the day before in his private car.

Mr. Raynor, perhaps seeing that Merritt would feel better with some employment to take his mind off his worry, readily consented. The Boy Scout set out at once. As he went he looked back at the distant peaks several times. The lightning was playing a witches' dance above them, and he thought with a pang of those near and dear to him who might be wandering at that very moment among them.

The operator at the Gatun station was a talkative chap and he chatted to Merritt while he waited for an open wire. He told him that he had had a busy evening and grumbled quizzically at his own good nature in trying to please other people.

"Why, only half an hour ago," he said, "a chap, a young American, I guess, was in here and borrowed two of my batteries. Said he was experimenting. Well, I knew him by sight and I let him have 'em. What's the result? I've had to charge two more and the line don't work as good."

Merritt only half listened to the voluble operator's relation of his troubles. But presently he looked up languidly as the operator said brusquely:

"Why, here's the chap coming back now. Well, if he's after any more batteries he don't get 'em."

A footfall sounded on the platform outside, the door opened and in came a man at sight of whom Merritt almost fell off his chair. It was the young man that he had seen in the barn with Jared and with whom the latter had driven to the station the night of the fire in Hampton.

Merritt was sitting back in a corner. For the sake of coolness, there was only one lamp in the place, a shaded one above the operator's table. A pile of boxes stood close to Merritt and he slipped in behind them. He had reasons of his own for not wanting to be seen just then.

"No more batteries," began the operator truculently as the stranger came in. But the other laughed.

"It's not batteries this time," he said with a slightly foreign accent.

"It's a telegram I want to send."

"Oh, that's different. There's one ahead of you, though."

"All right; there is no hurry. I'll write mine out now."

The man sat down and rapidly wrote on a sending blank. He handed it in.

The operator looked at it a minute and then handed it back.

"Sorry; I can't take it."

"Why not? I can pay you."

The man drew out a roll of bills.

"That's not it. Your message is in cipher and we are not allowed to take such telegrams in the zone."

"Whose orders?"

"Lieut. Col. Goethals and the U. S. Government."

"Curse them both," ground out the stranger angrily. The operator jumped to his feet.

"See here, friend," he said, "I'm an American and I think Goethals is a mighty fine man, too. See the point? There's the door. Now get! I'm blamed sorry I lent you those batteries, but I'd rather you didn't return them than come back."

Without a word the man turned and half slunk out of the door. As he pa.s.sed close by Merritt, the Boy Scout heard him mutter:

"Yes, and you and all Yankees will be sorrier yet before morning."

Merritt looked around. There was an open door behind him. Quick as a flash he slipped through it and the next moment was following the man through a clump of bananas that grew on each side of the road. Dodging among the broad leaves Merritt kept his quarry in sight and stuck close to his heels. The man walked on and then suddenly turned aside from the main road that led back to the "gold-men's" quarters and headed down into a sort of wild gully running to the river.

With Merritt close on his heels and blessing the shrubs that grew at the path-side, the man, quite unconscious that anyone was on his tracks, kept on. At length he came to a more or less tumble-down hut not far from the river bank.

He paused here a minute and gave three low whistles. In response out came an old negro.

"Dis funny time ob night to call?" said the old darky questioningly.