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"Not sunk, though," he added quickly, "for that would lose the box for us altogether. I'd just like to have one of our quick-firers disable them. But we're going away from the _Georgetown_, instead of toward it."
This was only too evident.
Of course Ned and Frank might have fired on the escaping men in the boat ahead of them, as they were within rifle shot, but neither of the boys dreamed of shooting at the rascals. It was too cold-blooded.
The boat of the fruit dealer was making good time. It was smaller and lighter than the larger craft containing Bernardo and the others, and was not so heavily laden.
"Ned, I believe we're going to catch them!" Frank cried, a little later.
"I can see them ever so much more plainly."
"So can I," said Mr. Kennedy. "Now, boys, you had better let me do the talking, if we really overhaul them and force them to stop. I can speak their language and I know what to say to them to bring them to terms I think. And you want to look out. Bernardo is an ugly customer, and he is probably very bitter over the defeat of his forces and the collapse of the revolution. He'll be especially vindictive against you sailors, for if it had not been for Uncle Sam's men the revolutionists would undoubtedly have won."
"Well, we have our rifles and automatics," replied Frank, as he looked to see that his gun was loaded, and the pistol in readiness. "If they try any monkey business-"
"Look! Look!" suddenly interrupted Ned. "They're having another dispute!
And it's about the box!"
Several of the rascals were now standing up in the boat. One of them had the box in his arms, and Bernardo was trying to take it from him. High words could be heard.
"We're going to close in on them, and they know it," exulted Frank.
"Maybe some of them want to offer us the box to stop the pursuit."
"I wouldn't agree to that," said Mr. Kennedy. "You might need more evidence than is in the box-personal testimony. Don't let them get away if you possibly can stop them."
"I really believe we are going to get them," cried Ned.
It seemed very probable, and the revolutionists evidently thought the same thing. The dispute over the box was renewed.
"I wonder what really is in it," ventured Ned.
No one could tell him.
Suddenly one of the men stood up, dealt the revolutionist who held the box a blow that sent him overboard, and as he fell, the man dealing the blow caught the box in his own hands. Then he yelled out something in his own tongue.
"What is he saying?" asked Ned, eagerly.
"Quiet, just a moment," cautioned Mr. Kennedy, who was listening intently.
The man screamed something at those in the pursuing boat, and shook one fist at them. Then, with a sudden motion, he tossed the box into the water. It sank instantly, and groans of disappointment came from Ned and Frank. The evidence that possibly would clear their uncle, and restore their fortunes, seemed lost forever.
"What did he say?" asked Frank.
"He said that all the doc.u.ments referring to the revolution would rest on the bottom of the bay," translated Mr. Kennedy. "He defied us, saying that though the revolution was checked it was not over, and that no punishment could be given Bernardo and his friends, because the necessary papers would never fall into our hands."
"Did he say anything about Uncle Phil?" asked Ned.
"I don't believe he knows him, though Bernardo does, and he may suspect you are his nephews," answered the coffee merchant.
"Come on!" yelled Frank. "They may have destroyed the doc.u.mentary evidence, but we'll get them and make them testify in person! We'll be up to them in another minute. Get your gun ready, Ned!"
But alas for their hopes! Their motor suddenly "went dead." They lost headway, and the other boat drew swiftly away, while the revolutionist who had been knocked overboard was seen swimming toward the stalled craft.
CHAPTER XXIV-THE MISSING BOX
"What's the matter with the engine?" cried Ned.
"We must get it started again!" exclaimed his brother, as he sprang to the motor. But revolve the fly-wheel as he did the craft remained still, save for the motion imparted to it by wind and wave, which was not much, as it was a still, calm day.
Meanwhile the other boat was getting farther and farther away, and it was soon seen that, even if the stalled motor could be started without delay, there would be little chance of catching the rascals.
"Something is wrong, somewhere," declared Ned.
"Never mind, I guess it's all up, boys," said the coffee man. "They've gotten away, and the evidence, if it was in the tin box, is at the bottom of the sea. It couldn't be helped."
"Maybe not," agreed Frank, with a sigh, in which his brother joined.
"But I would like to find out what made the motor stop so suddenly, and just when we were about to overhaul them, too."
He continued to work over the machinery, adjusting and readjusting the carburetor and the spark-timer, but without result. The Portuguese owner looked on interestedly and finally said something in his own language, which sounded much like Spanish.
"What is he saying?" asked Ned of Mr. Kennedy.
"He says perhaps there is no gasoline. He did not have much when we started."
"Great guns!" exploded Frank. "Why didn't we think of that before? We would have had time to stop and get a supply, and maybe, after that, might have caught the rascals."
An examination of the forward tank showed that the surmise of the boat's owner was correct. The gasoline container was dry, and that was what had caused the engine to stop.
"Well, what are we going to do?" asked Ned, looking around on the bay.
"Have we got to stay out here? We may be cla.s.sed as deserters, Frank."
"Oh, I think a boat that we can hail may pa.s.s us soon," suggested Mr.
Kennedy. "They'll tow us in."
There was nothing they could do save wait.
They hoisted their handkerchiefs on a boat hook as a signal of distress and finally it was seen. A boat came and towed them back to the city.
Before this, however, the man who had been knocked overboard from the other boat came swimming up to the craft containing our friends. He said something in Portuguese which Mr. Kennedy translated as being a surrender. He had to come to those he had been fighting, as his friends had gone off and left him.
He was hauled on board, and told that he would be made a prisoner and turned over to the proper authorities.
"He wasn't one of the leaders, though," said Mr. Kennedy to the boys, after a talk with the man. "He was a sort of servant to Bernardo."
"What does he say was in the box?" asked Frank, eagerly.