CHAPTER XV--HYDROPLANEVERSUSLOCOMOTIVECaptain Espejo thought himself to be very hardly used. He had expected to be by this time Jefe of Guayana. That was the office promised him by General Carabaño in reward for his services in the "liberation" of Venezuela. The General had not kept his promise. That was a clear breach of faith. Nay more, so far was he from acting up to his self-assumed title of Liberator, that he himself needed liberating. That was most annoying. Really, he ought to have been more careful. His capture was a malign stroke of Fate, but since Fate was inaccessible, Captain Espejo vented his annoyance and disappointment on his subordinates, which did not improve matters.Success is the best credential of a revolutionist, and the General's want of success bid fair to ruin his cause. There was no moral enthusiasm to buoy up the spirits of his men. Quite the contrary, indeed: the triumph of General Carabaño would be the triumph of corruption. The bonds linking them to him were of the slightest, and when with his disappearance their prospects of sharing the spoils of victory vanished into thin air, they began to ask themselves whether it was not time to disband. Perhaps in a few years another Liberator might arise who would not so easily be snuffed out. That was how the Venezuelans looked at the situation. The Indians of the force had already made up their minds that General Carabaño was a bladder, and betaken themselves to their own place.Captain Espejo was worried as well as annoyed. Food was running short; the exchequer was empty; the men had not received the pay promised them; and the Captain was not at all happy at the prospect of having to deal with a mutiny. He had declared, to be sure, with great vehemence, that the audacious kidnappers of the Liberator had not gone down-stream; he had no doubt that the detestable machine which had proved such a troublesome instrument in the hand of Fate had broken down, and the Englishman was hiding somewhere in the neighbourhood. But machines could be repaired, and when the repairs were made the Englishman would probably make another attempt to carry off his captive. If he could be intercepted all might yet be well. Captain Espejo used this argument to some effect with his men, and they had agreed to wait a week, and to keep a careful watch on the river meanwhile. The locomotive was kept constantly under steam, so that, immediately the discovery of the fugitives was signalled, the train might start for the junction. It could surely outstrip an overladen hydroplane, and then the Englishman might think himself lucky if he escaped a bullet through the head. It would give the Captain great pleasure to accompany the Liberator-General to his hacienda of Las Piedras, and witness the shooting of that impertinent engineer who had dared to flout him.The Captain was ruminating thus when there fell upon his ear the report of two rifles, fired in quick succession. Springing up from the chair which the General had lately filled, he ran into the camp, summoned a hundred men from theirdolce far niente, and with much excitement ordered them to board the three wagons coupled to the engine."They are discovered!" he cried. "We have them!"He climbed into the cab beside the engine-driver."A thousand pesos," he shouted, "if you reach the junction before the Englishman!"The driver opened the throttle, the wheels spun round, and when they held the rails the train started with a great rumbling and clanking towards the junction.————The hydroplane had floated only a few yards down the stream when there was a shout from the bank opposite. Looking round, Will saw, at the embouchure of the creek, a man wearing General Carabaño's green feather in his sombrero. He held a rifle. The enemy had clearly taken the precaution to post a look-out, so that while their boat was searching the creek, the hydroplane should not pass undiscovered.One glance, then Will started the engine, and the hydroplane shot forward."Not too fast," said Ruggles anxiously."All right. Ten miles an hour till we see how she goes. Keep your eyes open, Azito."The Indian grunted. He stood as far forward as was convenient, holding his pole, and fixing his eyes on the course. He meant to earn the little yacht that lay snugly beached in the creek behind.The man on the bank shouted again. In less than two minutes the hydroplane was level with him. He knelt on one knee, lifted his rifle, and fired."Through the wind-screen," said Will, not turning his head. "No harm done. I'll make it fifteen."The hydroplane swept round the first "twist" in the stream, and passed from the sight of the look-out. Another shot rang out, and half-a-minute later two more."A waste of ammunition," said Will, smiling."Stop, señor!" cried Machado in terror, from his place in the bottom. "We shall all be killed. His Excellency will be shot.""Hold your tongue," growled Ruggles, "or we'll set you and his Excellency up as targets."From some spot down-stream came the crack of another rifle, and then a second. Half-a-minute later there seemed to be an echo from a point still lower, and Azito declared that he heard two more shots even farther away."They're signals," said Ruggles. "Confound 'em, why are they so careful?""I daren't go any faster yet," said Will. "The stream's too narrow. We shall get to the tributary directly, and then I'll make her go."A few minutes brought them to the broader stream. Then Will opened the throttle further, increasing the speed to twenty miles an hour. More shots sounded faintly in several directions. Ruggles turned his head and glanced up-stream."There's a canoe after us," he cried. "Indians paddling like mad, and half-a-dozen fellows with rifles.""They can't hurt us," said Will, and laughed as he heard the rattle of an ineffective volley behind."It'll be a near thing, though, if they've got other canoes waiting for us down-stream. Is she going all right?""Perfectly. Twenty-five now, and planes beautifully. They won't hit us unless they've had practice with partridges, and if they get in the way they'll come off no better than the jaguar I ran down."The vessel was skimming along as lightly as a bird. Ruggles gripped the side; he had no experience of this kind of navigation."The canoe's out of sight," he said, looking round. "We're level with the hacienda now. Two shots again. They've put a chain of lookouts all down the river.""Thirty," replied Will, his eyes fixed on Azito, his hands firmly gripping the steering-wheel."A canoe putting off from the bank, señor," cried Azito. "Four men in her.""Right bank?""Yes, señor.""We'll go straight at her. Revolver ready, Ruggles?""For goodness' sake be careful!" gasped Ruggles. "She may capsize us.""Thirty-five," said Will.On flew the hydroplane."Are we near the canoe, Azito?" asked Will."She goes back, señor: better get out of the way.""Very sensible. Duck, Ruggles: they may send a shot at us."Next moment four bullets whizzed overhead."A thousand pesos if you stop!" cried the General, terrified alike by the speed of the hydroplane and the risk of being shot by his own men."Not for a million," said Will. "Are we near the narrows, Azito?""Not yet, señor.""By Jove!" exclaimed Ruggles, "they've sent the train after us. I can see smoke through the trees.""Forty," said Will.He had now attained the maximum speed. He had seldom ventured to keep it up for more than a quarter of an hour at a stretch, but he was grimly determined to beat the train. No engine had yet run over the newly-laid track at a greater speed than twenty-five miles an hour: surely the driver would not risk a smash. But Captain Espejo was at the man's elbow, continually urging him to go faster. The heavy wagons rattled on behind, the men swaying this way and that, shouting, peering through the trees to the left to catch a glimpse of the hydroplane.The sun beat down fiercely. Hot though the air was, it blew cold upon the occupants of the hydroplane as she whizzed along. Will and Ruggles were bathed in perspiration. José was oiling the engine."How are we now?" asked Will."I can't see for the trees. Aren't we near the narrows?"He was answered by a volley from the bank. He ducked instinctively. Will did not budge; his whole mind was given to the hydroplane. Would the engine stand the strain? He heard bullets slap into the wind-screen, and trembled lest one should strike the engine or find its way into the petrol tank."The train's almost level with us," said Ruggles. "Not more than a hundred yards behind."At this point the railway track emerged upon the river, coming to within a quarter of a mile of it. Here the bank was clear of trees."How many trucks?" asked Will."Three, full of men. They're levelling rifles at us.""Won't there be a smash when they come to the curve!""We're gaining a little, but they'll make up on us when we come to the bend.""We must go faster. I can't leave the wheel. Ruggles, go to the exhaust valve and double the pressure.""Good heavens! It won't stand it.""It must! Hurry up, man."Ruggles, as an expert mechanician, knew the risk involved. By adjusting the valve admitting pressure from the exhaust to the petrol tank it could show double the pressure on the tank gauge. By this means the explosive mixture would be enriched and more power gained. But there would be an immense risk of over-heating the cylinders."I don't think----" he began."Quick! quick, man!" said Will.Hesitating no longer, Ruggles did what was required of him. The hydroplane flew on. In half-a-minute it had gained a furlong on the train. Fearing that their prey was escaping them, the men on the trucks fired a volley, some resting their rifles on the sides, others even venturing to mount, being held up on the jolting vehicles by their comrades. More bullets struck the windscreen; Will did not notice that Azito's right arm dropped by his side. The Indian did not utter a sound.With every second the hydroplane increased its lead. At last it came to the bend, which made its course longer by over a mile than the straight track of the railway. This was the critical part of the race. Will knew that, if the train maintained its speed, he could not expect to reach the farther end of the curve before his pursuers. It was impossible to increase the pressure by an ounce. His only hope was that the train would not have time to pull up, so that the men could steady themselves for firing, before he shot past.As he rounded the bend into the straight again, he saw that the train was leading by about two hundred yards. It did not appear to be slackening speed. And here he recognized with a throb of delight that there was a point in his favour that had not occurred to him. For nearly a mile the bank of the river was lined with a thin fringe of trees. This explained the fact that the train had not pulled up. Even if the men could alight in time, the trees must completely spoil their chance of pouring in an effective volley. The hydroplane was skimming along at such an enormous speed that they could no more have taken good aim at it through the trees than if they had been park palings. In half-a-minute the hydroplane was once more forging ahead. A scattered volley flashed from the trucks; Will paid no heed to it; he did not even notice that a bullet had flown up from the wind-screen and struck his cheek. All that he knew was that the hydroplane was drawing away, and that in another mile or so the train would arrive at a dangerous curve."They're putting on more steam," cried Ruggles, "and coaling like the very dickens.""Shall we do it? I can't keep this up for more than another minute.""In another minute they'll come to the curve in the cutting," said Ruggles, "and then nothing can save them if they don't slacken."A few seconds later a loud grinding shriek came from the right."They've clapped on the brakes," said Will. "'Twas time. Reduce the pressure, Ruggles, or the whole concern will burst up. There's no hurry now."[image]THE RACE TO THE SWIFTRuggles screwed back the valve. Will gradually closed the throttle until the speed was reduced to twenty miles an hour. The bridge was in sight. Just as they reached it there came a crash from the line. Will reduced the speed still further, and looked round. The driver had put on his brakes too late. Rounding the curve, the engine had left the rails and the wagons were overturned."Not much harm done," said Ruggles. "Lucky she slowed down when she did, or there'd have been a horrible mess.""Thank goodness we've got through in time," said Will, mopping his steaming brow. "We can take it easy now, and get to Bolivar before it's dark."
CHAPTER XV--HYDROPLANEVERSUSLOCOMOTIVECaptain Espejo thought himself to be very hardly used. He had expected to be by this time Jefe of Guayana. That was the office promised him by General Carabaño in reward for his services in the "liberation" of Venezuela. The General had not kept his promise. That was a clear breach of faith. Nay more, so far was he from acting up to his self-assumed title of Liberator, that he himself needed liberating. That was most annoying. Really, he ought to have been more careful. His capture was a malign stroke of Fate, but since Fate was inaccessible, Captain Espejo vented his annoyance and disappointment on his subordinates, which did not improve matters.Success is the best credential of a revolutionist, and the General's want of success bid fair to ruin his cause. There was no moral enthusiasm to buoy up the spirits of his men. Quite the contrary, indeed: the triumph of General Carabaño would be the triumph of corruption. The bonds linking them to him were of the slightest, and when with his disappearance their prospects of sharing the spoils of victory vanished into thin air, they began to ask themselves whether it was not time to disband. Perhaps in a few years another Liberator might arise who would not so easily be snuffed out. That was how the Venezuelans looked at the situation. The Indians of the force had already made up their minds that General Carabaño was a bladder, and betaken themselves to their own place.Captain Espejo was worried as well as annoyed. Food was running short; the exchequer was empty; the men had not received the pay promised them; and the Captain was not at all happy at the prospect of having to deal with a mutiny. He had declared, to be sure, with great vehemence, that the audacious kidnappers of the Liberator had not gone down-stream; he had no doubt that the detestable machine which had proved such a troublesome instrument in the hand of Fate had broken down, and the Englishman was hiding somewhere in the neighbourhood. But machines could be repaired, and when the repairs were made the Englishman would probably make another attempt to carry off his captive. If he could be intercepted all might yet be well. Captain Espejo used this argument to some effect with his men, and they had agreed to wait a week, and to keep a careful watch on the river meanwhile. The locomotive was kept constantly under steam, so that, immediately the discovery of the fugitives was signalled, the train might start for the junction. It could surely outstrip an overladen hydroplane, and then the Englishman might think himself lucky if he escaped a bullet through the head. It would give the Captain great pleasure to accompany the Liberator-General to his hacienda of Las Piedras, and witness the shooting of that impertinent engineer who had dared to flout him.The Captain was ruminating thus when there fell upon his ear the report of two rifles, fired in quick succession. Springing up from the chair which the General had lately filled, he ran into the camp, summoned a hundred men from theirdolce far niente, and with much excitement ordered them to board the three wagons coupled to the engine."They are discovered!" he cried. "We have them!"He climbed into the cab beside the engine-driver."A thousand pesos," he shouted, "if you reach the junction before the Englishman!"The driver opened the throttle, the wheels spun round, and when they held the rails the train started with a great rumbling and clanking towards the junction.————The hydroplane had floated only a few yards down the stream when there was a shout from the bank opposite. Looking round, Will saw, at the embouchure of the creek, a man wearing General Carabaño's green feather in his sombrero. He held a rifle. The enemy had clearly taken the precaution to post a look-out, so that while their boat was searching the creek, the hydroplane should not pass undiscovered.One glance, then Will started the engine, and the hydroplane shot forward."Not too fast," said Ruggles anxiously."All right. Ten miles an hour till we see how she goes. Keep your eyes open, Azito."The Indian grunted. He stood as far forward as was convenient, holding his pole, and fixing his eyes on the course. He meant to earn the little yacht that lay snugly beached in the creek behind.The man on the bank shouted again. In less than two minutes the hydroplane was level with him. He knelt on one knee, lifted his rifle, and fired."Through the wind-screen," said Will, not turning his head. "No harm done. I'll make it fifteen."The hydroplane swept round the first "twist" in the stream, and passed from the sight of the look-out. Another shot rang out, and half-a-minute later two more."A waste of ammunition," said Will, smiling."Stop, señor!" cried Machado in terror, from his place in the bottom. "We shall all be killed. His Excellency will be shot.""Hold your tongue," growled Ruggles, "or we'll set you and his Excellency up as targets."From some spot down-stream came the crack of another rifle, and then a second. Half-a-minute later there seemed to be an echo from a point still lower, and Azito declared that he heard two more shots even farther away."They're signals," said Ruggles. "Confound 'em, why are they so careful?""I daren't go any faster yet," said Will. "The stream's too narrow. We shall get to the tributary directly, and then I'll make her go."A few minutes brought them to the broader stream. Then Will opened the throttle further, increasing the speed to twenty miles an hour. More shots sounded faintly in several directions. Ruggles turned his head and glanced up-stream."There's a canoe after us," he cried. "Indians paddling like mad, and half-a-dozen fellows with rifles.""They can't hurt us," said Will, and laughed as he heard the rattle of an ineffective volley behind."It'll be a near thing, though, if they've got other canoes waiting for us down-stream. Is she going all right?""Perfectly. Twenty-five now, and planes beautifully. They won't hit us unless they've had practice with partridges, and if they get in the way they'll come off no better than the jaguar I ran down."The vessel was skimming along as lightly as a bird. Ruggles gripped the side; he had no experience of this kind of navigation."The canoe's out of sight," he said, looking round. "We're level with the hacienda now. Two shots again. They've put a chain of lookouts all down the river.""Thirty," replied Will, his eyes fixed on Azito, his hands firmly gripping the steering-wheel."A canoe putting off from the bank, señor," cried Azito. "Four men in her.""Right bank?""Yes, señor.""We'll go straight at her. Revolver ready, Ruggles?""For goodness' sake be careful!" gasped Ruggles. "She may capsize us.""Thirty-five," said Will.On flew the hydroplane."Are we near the canoe, Azito?" asked Will."She goes back, señor: better get out of the way.""Very sensible. Duck, Ruggles: they may send a shot at us."Next moment four bullets whizzed overhead."A thousand pesos if you stop!" cried the General, terrified alike by the speed of the hydroplane and the risk of being shot by his own men."Not for a million," said Will. "Are we near the narrows, Azito?""Not yet, señor.""By Jove!" exclaimed Ruggles, "they've sent the train after us. I can see smoke through the trees.""Forty," said Will.He had now attained the maximum speed. He had seldom ventured to keep it up for more than a quarter of an hour at a stretch, but he was grimly determined to beat the train. No engine had yet run over the newly-laid track at a greater speed than twenty-five miles an hour: surely the driver would not risk a smash. But Captain Espejo was at the man's elbow, continually urging him to go faster. The heavy wagons rattled on behind, the men swaying this way and that, shouting, peering through the trees to the left to catch a glimpse of the hydroplane.The sun beat down fiercely. Hot though the air was, it blew cold upon the occupants of the hydroplane as she whizzed along. Will and Ruggles were bathed in perspiration. José was oiling the engine."How are we now?" asked Will."I can't see for the trees. Aren't we near the narrows?"He was answered by a volley from the bank. He ducked instinctively. Will did not budge; his whole mind was given to the hydroplane. Would the engine stand the strain? He heard bullets slap into the wind-screen, and trembled lest one should strike the engine or find its way into the petrol tank."The train's almost level with us," said Ruggles. "Not more than a hundred yards behind."At this point the railway track emerged upon the river, coming to within a quarter of a mile of it. Here the bank was clear of trees."How many trucks?" asked Will."Three, full of men. They're levelling rifles at us.""Won't there be a smash when they come to the curve!""We're gaining a little, but they'll make up on us when we come to the bend.""We must go faster. I can't leave the wheel. Ruggles, go to the exhaust valve and double the pressure.""Good heavens! It won't stand it.""It must! Hurry up, man."Ruggles, as an expert mechanician, knew the risk involved. By adjusting the valve admitting pressure from the exhaust to the petrol tank it could show double the pressure on the tank gauge. By this means the explosive mixture would be enriched and more power gained. But there would be an immense risk of over-heating the cylinders."I don't think----" he began."Quick! quick, man!" said Will.Hesitating no longer, Ruggles did what was required of him. The hydroplane flew on. In half-a-minute it had gained a furlong on the train. Fearing that their prey was escaping them, the men on the trucks fired a volley, some resting their rifles on the sides, others even venturing to mount, being held up on the jolting vehicles by their comrades. More bullets struck the windscreen; Will did not notice that Azito's right arm dropped by his side. The Indian did not utter a sound.With every second the hydroplane increased its lead. At last it came to the bend, which made its course longer by over a mile than the straight track of the railway. This was the critical part of the race. Will knew that, if the train maintained its speed, he could not expect to reach the farther end of the curve before his pursuers. It was impossible to increase the pressure by an ounce. His only hope was that the train would not have time to pull up, so that the men could steady themselves for firing, before he shot past.As he rounded the bend into the straight again, he saw that the train was leading by about two hundred yards. It did not appear to be slackening speed. And here he recognized with a throb of delight that there was a point in his favour that had not occurred to him. For nearly a mile the bank of the river was lined with a thin fringe of trees. This explained the fact that the train had not pulled up. Even if the men could alight in time, the trees must completely spoil their chance of pouring in an effective volley. The hydroplane was skimming along at such an enormous speed that they could no more have taken good aim at it through the trees than if they had been park palings. In half-a-minute the hydroplane was once more forging ahead. A scattered volley flashed from the trucks; Will paid no heed to it; he did not even notice that a bullet had flown up from the wind-screen and struck his cheek. All that he knew was that the hydroplane was drawing away, and that in another mile or so the train would arrive at a dangerous curve."They're putting on more steam," cried Ruggles, "and coaling like the very dickens.""Shall we do it? I can't keep this up for more than another minute.""In another minute they'll come to the curve in the cutting," said Ruggles, "and then nothing can save them if they don't slacken."A few seconds later a loud grinding shriek came from the right."They've clapped on the brakes," said Will. "'Twas time. Reduce the pressure, Ruggles, or the whole concern will burst up. There's no hurry now."[image]THE RACE TO THE SWIFTRuggles screwed back the valve. Will gradually closed the throttle until the speed was reduced to twenty miles an hour. The bridge was in sight. Just as they reached it there came a crash from the line. Will reduced the speed still further, and looked round. The driver had put on his brakes too late. Rounding the curve, the engine had left the rails and the wagons were overturned."Not much harm done," said Ruggles. "Lucky she slowed down when she did, or there'd have been a horrible mess.""Thank goodness we've got through in time," said Will, mopping his steaming brow. "We can take it easy now, and get to Bolivar before it's dark."
Captain Espejo thought himself to be very hardly used. He had expected to be by this time Jefe of Guayana. That was the office promised him by General Carabaño in reward for his services in the "liberation" of Venezuela. The General had not kept his promise. That was a clear breach of faith. Nay more, so far was he from acting up to his self-assumed title of Liberator, that he himself needed liberating. That was most annoying. Really, he ought to have been more careful. His capture was a malign stroke of Fate, but since Fate was inaccessible, Captain Espejo vented his annoyance and disappointment on his subordinates, which did not improve matters.
Success is the best credential of a revolutionist, and the General's want of success bid fair to ruin his cause. There was no moral enthusiasm to buoy up the spirits of his men. Quite the contrary, indeed: the triumph of General Carabaño would be the triumph of corruption. The bonds linking them to him were of the slightest, and when with his disappearance their prospects of sharing the spoils of victory vanished into thin air, they began to ask themselves whether it was not time to disband. Perhaps in a few years another Liberator might arise who would not so easily be snuffed out. That was how the Venezuelans looked at the situation. The Indians of the force had already made up their minds that General Carabaño was a bladder, and betaken themselves to their own place.
Captain Espejo was worried as well as annoyed. Food was running short; the exchequer was empty; the men had not received the pay promised them; and the Captain was not at all happy at the prospect of having to deal with a mutiny. He had declared, to be sure, with great vehemence, that the audacious kidnappers of the Liberator had not gone down-stream; he had no doubt that the detestable machine which had proved such a troublesome instrument in the hand of Fate had broken down, and the Englishman was hiding somewhere in the neighbourhood. But machines could be repaired, and when the repairs were made the Englishman would probably make another attempt to carry off his captive. If he could be intercepted all might yet be well. Captain Espejo used this argument to some effect with his men, and they had agreed to wait a week, and to keep a careful watch on the river meanwhile. The locomotive was kept constantly under steam, so that, immediately the discovery of the fugitives was signalled, the train might start for the junction. It could surely outstrip an overladen hydroplane, and then the Englishman might think himself lucky if he escaped a bullet through the head. It would give the Captain great pleasure to accompany the Liberator-General to his hacienda of Las Piedras, and witness the shooting of that impertinent engineer who had dared to flout him.
The Captain was ruminating thus when there fell upon his ear the report of two rifles, fired in quick succession. Springing up from the chair which the General had lately filled, he ran into the camp, summoned a hundred men from theirdolce far niente, and with much excitement ordered them to board the three wagons coupled to the engine.
"They are discovered!" he cried. "We have them!"
He climbed into the cab beside the engine-driver.
"A thousand pesos," he shouted, "if you reach the junction before the Englishman!"
The driver opened the throttle, the wheels spun round, and when they held the rails the train started with a great rumbling and clanking towards the junction.
————
————
The hydroplane had floated only a few yards down the stream when there was a shout from the bank opposite. Looking round, Will saw, at the embouchure of the creek, a man wearing General Carabaño's green feather in his sombrero. He held a rifle. The enemy had clearly taken the precaution to post a look-out, so that while their boat was searching the creek, the hydroplane should not pass undiscovered.
One glance, then Will started the engine, and the hydroplane shot forward.
"Not too fast," said Ruggles anxiously.
"All right. Ten miles an hour till we see how she goes. Keep your eyes open, Azito."
The Indian grunted. He stood as far forward as was convenient, holding his pole, and fixing his eyes on the course. He meant to earn the little yacht that lay snugly beached in the creek behind.
The man on the bank shouted again. In less than two minutes the hydroplane was level with him. He knelt on one knee, lifted his rifle, and fired.
"Through the wind-screen," said Will, not turning his head. "No harm done. I'll make it fifteen."
The hydroplane swept round the first "twist" in the stream, and passed from the sight of the look-out. Another shot rang out, and half-a-minute later two more.
"A waste of ammunition," said Will, smiling.
"Stop, señor!" cried Machado in terror, from his place in the bottom. "We shall all be killed. His Excellency will be shot."
"Hold your tongue," growled Ruggles, "or we'll set you and his Excellency up as targets."
From some spot down-stream came the crack of another rifle, and then a second. Half-a-minute later there seemed to be an echo from a point still lower, and Azito declared that he heard two more shots even farther away.
"They're signals," said Ruggles. "Confound 'em, why are they so careful?"
"I daren't go any faster yet," said Will. "The stream's too narrow. We shall get to the tributary directly, and then I'll make her go."
A few minutes brought them to the broader stream. Then Will opened the throttle further, increasing the speed to twenty miles an hour. More shots sounded faintly in several directions. Ruggles turned his head and glanced up-stream.
"There's a canoe after us," he cried. "Indians paddling like mad, and half-a-dozen fellows with rifles."
"They can't hurt us," said Will, and laughed as he heard the rattle of an ineffective volley behind.
"It'll be a near thing, though, if they've got other canoes waiting for us down-stream. Is she going all right?"
"Perfectly. Twenty-five now, and planes beautifully. They won't hit us unless they've had practice with partridges, and if they get in the way they'll come off no better than the jaguar I ran down."
The vessel was skimming along as lightly as a bird. Ruggles gripped the side; he had no experience of this kind of navigation.
"The canoe's out of sight," he said, looking round. "We're level with the hacienda now. Two shots again. They've put a chain of lookouts all down the river."
"Thirty," replied Will, his eyes fixed on Azito, his hands firmly gripping the steering-wheel.
"A canoe putting off from the bank, señor," cried Azito. "Four men in her."
"Right bank?"
"Yes, señor."
"We'll go straight at her. Revolver ready, Ruggles?"
"For goodness' sake be careful!" gasped Ruggles. "She may capsize us."
"Thirty-five," said Will.
On flew the hydroplane.
"Are we near the canoe, Azito?" asked Will.
"She goes back, señor: better get out of the way."
"Very sensible. Duck, Ruggles: they may send a shot at us."
Next moment four bullets whizzed overhead.
"A thousand pesos if you stop!" cried the General, terrified alike by the speed of the hydroplane and the risk of being shot by his own men.
"Not for a million," said Will. "Are we near the narrows, Azito?"
"Not yet, señor."
"By Jove!" exclaimed Ruggles, "they've sent the train after us. I can see smoke through the trees."
"Forty," said Will.
He had now attained the maximum speed. He had seldom ventured to keep it up for more than a quarter of an hour at a stretch, but he was grimly determined to beat the train. No engine had yet run over the newly-laid track at a greater speed than twenty-five miles an hour: surely the driver would not risk a smash. But Captain Espejo was at the man's elbow, continually urging him to go faster. The heavy wagons rattled on behind, the men swaying this way and that, shouting, peering through the trees to the left to catch a glimpse of the hydroplane.
The sun beat down fiercely. Hot though the air was, it blew cold upon the occupants of the hydroplane as she whizzed along. Will and Ruggles were bathed in perspiration. José was oiling the engine.
"How are we now?" asked Will.
"I can't see for the trees. Aren't we near the narrows?"
He was answered by a volley from the bank. He ducked instinctively. Will did not budge; his whole mind was given to the hydroplane. Would the engine stand the strain? He heard bullets slap into the wind-screen, and trembled lest one should strike the engine or find its way into the petrol tank.
"The train's almost level with us," said Ruggles. "Not more than a hundred yards behind."
At this point the railway track emerged upon the river, coming to within a quarter of a mile of it. Here the bank was clear of trees.
"How many trucks?" asked Will.
"Three, full of men. They're levelling rifles at us."
"Won't there be a smash when they come to the curve!"
"We're gaining a little, but they'll make up on us when we come to the bend."
"We must go faster. I can't leave the wheel. Ruggles, go to the exhaust valve and double the pressure."
"Good heavens! It won't stand it."
"It must! Hurry up, man."
Ruggles, as an expert mechanician, knew the risk involved. By adjusting the valve admitting pressure from the exhaust to the petrol tank it could show double the pressure on the tank gauge. By this means the explosive mixture would be enriched and more power gained. But there would be an immense risk of over-heating the cylinders.
"I don't think----" he began.
"Quick! quick, man!" said Will.
Hesitating no longer, Ruggles did what was required of him. The hydroplane flew on. In half-a-minute it had gained a furlong on the train. Fearing that their prey was escaping them, the men on the trucks fired a volley, some resting their rifles on the sides, others even venturing to mount, being held up on the jolting vehicles by their comrades. More bullets struck the windscreen; Will did not notice that Azito's right arm dropped by his side. The Indian did not utter a sound.
With every second the hydroplane increased its lead. At last it came to the bend, which made its course longer by over a mile than the straight track of the railway. This was the critical part of the race. Will knew that, if the train maintained its speed, he could not expect to reach the farther end of the curve before his pursuers. It was impossible to increase the pressure by an ounce. His only hope was that the train would not have time to pull up, so that the men could steady themselves for firing, before he shot past.
As he rounded the bend into the straight again, he saw that the train was leading by about two hundred yards. It did not appear to be slackening speed. And here he recognized with a throb of delight that there was a point in his favour that had not occurred to him. For nearly a mile the bank of the river was lined with a thin fringe of trees. This explained the fact that the train had not pulled up. Even if the men could alight in time, the trees must completely spoil their chance of pouring in an effective volley. The hydroplane was skimming along at such an enormous speed that they could no more have taken good aim at it through the trees than if they had been park palings. In half-a-minute the hydroplane was once more forging ahead. A scattered volley flashed from the trucks; Will paid no heed to it; he did not even notice that a bullet had flown up from the wind-screen and struck his cheek. All that he knew was that the hydroplane was drawing away, and that in another mile or so the train would arrive at a dangerous curve.
"They're putting on more steam," cried Ruggles, "and coaling like the very dickens."
"Shall we do it? I can't keep this up for more than another minute."
"In another minute they'll come to the curve in the cutting," said Ruggles, "and then nothing can save them if they don't slacken."
A few seconds later a loud grinding shriek came from the right.
"They've clapped on the brakes," said Will. "'Twas time. Reduce the pressure, Ruggles, or the whole concern will burst up. There's no hurry now."
[image]THE RACE TO THE SWIFT
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THE RACE TO THE SWIFT
Ruggles screwed back the valve. Will gradually closed the throttle until the speed was reduced to twenty miles an hour. The bridge was in sight. Just as they reached it there came a crash from the line. Will reduced the speed still further, and looked round. The driver had put on his brakes too late. Rounding the curve, the engine had left the rails and the wagons were overturned.
"Not much harm done," said Ruggles. "Lucky she slowed down when she did, or there'd have been a horrible mess."
"Thank goodness we've got through in time," said Will, mopping his steaming brow. "We can take it easy now, and get to Bolivar before it's dark."