“You say the schooner got away to the south, Ferral?” asked Jordan.
“Yes, and looked as though she was bound for down the coast. Looks as though Cassidy had deserted, Bob.”
“We ought to have jailed him,” commented Jordan. “Did Cassidy know anything about the sealed orders, Bob?”
“Captain Nemo, junior, had me read the orders aloud in the periscope room,” Bob answered. “Cassidy had been in the conning tower, but when I finished with the letter I saw that he was in the room with us.”
Jordan’s face grew even more foreboding.
“This looks bad!” he exclaimed. “I wouldn’t trust that Fingal man around the corner, and here he’s run off with Cassidy and headed down the coast. There’s something in the wind, and if our game is tipped off before we get to where we’re going it will be a case of up-sticks with Coleman.”
“I don’t think Cassidy would dare tip off our work to Fingal!” exclaimed Bob, somewhat dashed by the course of events.
“A drunken man is liable to do anything.”
“But what would Cassidy have to gain by telling Fingal our business to the southward?”
“Why, as for that, Fingal has been suspected of helping those same revolutionists. If he can help the scoundrels hang on to Coleman, they might make it worth his while.”
“The letter I read in the periscope room,” said Bob,after a moment’s thought, “spoke of the Rio Dolce as the place where Coleman was being held. This, you tell me, is wrong. In that event, and assuming that Cassidy heard the whole of the letter, then he has a clew that’s not to be depended on.”
“Fingal must know the Rio Dolce is not the place. The fact that the schooner bore away to the south proves that some one has correct information. No, Bob, Fingal has learned through Cassidy just why theGrampusput in at Belize; and Cassidy, intoxicated as he is and worked up over a fancied grievance, has cast in his lot with the schooner. The pair of them are off to the south to make trouble for us, take my word for it. What we must do is to get away as close on their heels as possible. We can’t wait until evening, but must proceed on the jump and get away without losing any more time than necessary.”
“Wait a minute,” spoke up Dick. “You remember, Bob, that there was a schooner that took Captain Sixty off the fruiterSanta Maria, and sailed with him to find the derelict brig. That schooner was to take off the arms and ammunition from the wreck, and would have done so if the submarine hadn’t shown up and been backed by the cruiserSeminole.”
“I remember that,” said Bob. “What of it, Dick?”
“Well, I think the schooner that took Cassidy and the other swab south is the same one that figured in our affairs a few days ago.”
To all appearances the consul had had news relative to these events in the gulf. As soon as Dick had finished, he slapped his hands excitedly.
“Jupiter!” he exclaimed. “This is more proof that Fingal is hand and glove with the revolutionists. This new move, Bob, means that that pair of scamps are off for the south to put a spoke in our wheel. We can’tdelay the start an instant longer than we find necessary to finish our preparations.”
Before Bob could answer, an open carriage drove along the street. The doctor was in the rear seat supporting the captain. The latter looked like a very sick man indeed, and was leaning feebly against the doctor’s arm.
“Don’t tell him anything about Cassidy’s running away,” cautioned Bob, starting down the steps and toward the road. “It would only worry him, and we’ll carry out the work that has been given to us, in spite of Cassidy and Fingal.”
“He knows about it already,” said Dick. “We discovered Cassidy and the other chap making for the schooner while we were coming ashore.”
“Did the captain give Cassidy permission to leave the submarine?”
“No. Carl said that the captain became unconscious just when the mate started up to hoist the flag, and that the mate took another pull at the flask and went on up the conning-tower ladder. It was French leave he took, nothing less. As soon as Doctor Armstrong got to theGrampushe wasn’t any time at all in bringing the captain to his senses, and the first man Nemo, junior, asked about was Cassidy.”
By that time the carriage, which was proceeding slowly, was opposite Bob, Dick, and Jordan, who formed a little group on the sidewalk. In response to a gesture from the captain, the vehicle came to a halt.
“You are the American consul?” asked the captain, making an effort to straighten up.
“Yes,” replied Jordan.
“I am Captain Nemo, junior, of the submarineGrampus. My unfortunate illness puts me out of the work that lies ahead of the boat and her crew, but Bob Steele, there, is perfectly capable of dischargingthe duties of master. I should feel quite sure of the outcome if it was not for the mate. He has deserted, and I am positive he intends to make trouble. You must get away as soon as possible, Bob. Cassidy went the other way from the Rio Dolce—which is a move I can’t understand, if he is planning to interfere with the rescue of Coleman.”
Bob and Jordan exchanged quick looks. The captain, having no information to the contrary, was still under the impression conveyed by the sealed orders, viz.: that the captured consul was on the Rio Dolce instead of the River Izaral. Neither Bob nor Jordan attempted to set the captain straight.
Evidently the captain had talked more than was good for him, for when he finished he collapsed, and had hardly strength enough to say good-by. As he was driven off, Bob gazed after him sympathetically.
“Strange that a few hours should make such a difference in Captain Nemo, junior,” he murmured.
“The climatic change perhaps had something to do with it, Bob,” suggested Jordan. “But we can’t stand around here, my lad. We’ve got to hustle—and this isn’t a very good climate to hustle in, either. It’s the land of take-it-easy. You get the submarine in shape, and I’ll hunt up the pilot, get together the war plunder and my own traps, and join you just as quick as the nation will let me. On the jump, my lad, on the jump.”
Jordan, suddenly energetic, turned and hastened back into the consulate.
“There’s a whole lot to that land lubber,” remarked Dick. “He’s as full of snap and get-there as any chap I ever saw. But what’s the first move? You’re the skipper, now, and it’s up to you to lay the course.”
“We’ve plenty of stores aboard for the trip we’re to make, with the exception of gasoline. TheGrampuswill be in strange waters on a secret mission, and we must make sure of an abundant supply of fuel at the start-off.”
The boys were not long in finding a place where they could secure the gasoline, and but little longer in getting a negro carter to convey the barrel to the landing. Here the same colored boatman who had brought Bob and Dick ashore was waiting, and the barrel was loaded and carried out to the submarine.
The sailboat hove to as close alongside theGrampusas she could get, and both vessels were made fast to each other by ropes. The gasoline barrel was tapped, a hose run out from the conning-tower hatch, and the negroes laid hold of a pump and emptied the barrel into the gasoline reservoir of the submarine.
Dick took charge of the transfer of the gasoline, while Bob went down into the periscope room and called up Speake, Clackett, and Gaines.
“Friends,” said he, “we’re off on a short cruise in strange waters—a cruise that will probably call for courage, and will certainly require tact and caution. Mr. Hays Jordan, the American consul, is going with us, and when he comes aboard he will bring a pilot who knows where we are to go and will take us there. You men know that it is Captain Nemo, junior’s, order that I take charge of the work ahead of us. Have you any objection to that?”
“The captain knew his business,” averred Gaines heartily, “and whatever is good enough for him is good enough for us.”
Speake and Clackett likewise expressed themselves in the same whole-souled manner.
“Thank you, my lads,” said Bob. “I suppose you have heard how the mate went off in a huff. That makes us short-handed, in a way, although the pilot we’re to take on will help out. Our work is government work, something for Old Glory, and I feel that we will all of us do our best. We shall have to run all night, and I will arrange to have Ferral relieve Gaines, and Carl relieve Clackett. As for Speake, he will have abundant opportunity to rest, as most of our night work will be on the surface. Speake may now get us something to eat, and after that you will all go to your stations.”
Speake was not long in getting his electric stove to work. There were only a few provisions he could prepare without causing an offensive odor, and the limited menu was quickly on the table. Hardly was the meal finished when a boat hove alongside with Jordan. Bob, Dick, and Carl went up on deck to assist the consul in getting his traps aboard.
Jordan had exchanged his white ducks for a trim suit of khaki. Two belts were around his waist, one of them fluted with cartridges, and the other supporting a brace of serviceable revolvers. With him came three rifles and a box of ammunition.
The pilot was an unkempt half-blood named Tirzal. He was bareheaded and barefooted, and had a ferret-like face and shifty, beadlike eyes.
As soon as the impedimenta was stowed below decks, Bob instructed Tirzal in the steering of the submarine. The boat could be maneuvered either from the conning tower or from the periscope room. When maneuvered from the conning tower, the pilot stood on the iron ladder, using his eyes over the top of the tower hatch; when steered from below, compass and periscope were used.
Tirzal grasped the details with surprising quickness, his little eyes snapping with wonder as they saw the panorama of ocean, shore, and shipping on the mirror top of the periscope table.
While these instructions were going forward, Gainesand Dick had gone into the motor room, Clackett and Carl had posted themselves in the place from which the submerging tanks were operated, and Speake had gone forward into the torpedo room.
“We’re all ready,” said Bob. “Take to the conning tower, Tirzal, and give your signals.”
The half-breed, as proud as a peacock to have the management of this strange craft under his hands, got up the ladder until only his bare feet and legs from the knees down were visible.
Bob, posting himself by the periscope, divided his attention between the panorama unfolded there and the work of Tirzal. He was considerably relieved by the handy manner in which the half-breed took hold of his work.
With ballast tanks empty, and theGrampusriding as high in the water as she could, the motor got to work the instant the anchors were off the bottom and stowed.
“We’re off, Jordan!” cried Bob.
“Off on one of the strangest cruises I ever took part in,” returned the consul, his face glowing with the novelty of the situation; “and it’s a cruise, my boy,” he added, a little more soberly, “which is going to demand all our resourcefulness in the matter of tact, skill, and courage. Even then there’s a chance that we——”
Jordan did not finish, but gave Bob a look which expressed plainly all that he had left unsaid.