"Get to the telephone," he bellowed to the man as he went away. "Warn them down the line."
Then began an exciting race between his car and the spoil train; for the latter was composed of many long, heavy trucks, all laden to the brim with rock debris, consequently the smallest incline was sufficient to set them in motion if not properly braked. Now, when the whole line had broken adrift from its engine, and had run on to the Culebra incline, the weight told every instant. The pace soon became appalling, the trucks bounding and scrunching along the tracks, shaking violently, throwing their contents on either side, threatening to upset at every curve, gained upon Jim's car at every second.
"I'll have to jump if I can't get clear ahead," he told himself. "But if I can only keep my distance for a while the incline soon lessens, when the pace of the runaway will get slower. But that man was right; she's coasting so fast, and has so much weight aboard, that the impetus will take her best part of the way to Gatun."
Once more it was necessary for Jim to do as he had done aboard the motor launch. His ignition and throttle levers were pushed to the farthest notch. He was getting every ounce of power out of his car, desperately striving to keep ahead. But still the train gained. They came to a curve, our hero leading the runaway by some fifty yards, and both running on the tracks at terrific speed. Suddenly the inside wheels of the inspection car lifted. Jim felt she was about to turn turtle and promptly threw himself on to the edge of the car, endeavouring to weigh her down. Over canted the car till it seemed that she must capsize. Jim gave a jerk with all his strength, and slowly she settled down on to her inside wheels again, clattering and jangling on the iron track as she did so. Then he glanced back at the dirt train racing so madly after him.
"She'll be over," he thought. "She'll never manage to get round that bend at such a pace."
But weight steadies a freight car, and on this occasion the leading trucks at least managed to negotiate the curve without sustaining damage. The long train, looking like a black, vindictive snake, swung round the bend, with terrific velocity, and came on after him relentlessly. Then, as the last truck but one reached the bend, there was a sudden commotion. The dirt it contained heaved spasmodically and splashed up over the side; it seemed to rise up at the after end in a huge heap, and was followed by the tail of the truck. The whole thing canted up on its head, then swayed outwards, and, turning on its side, crashed on to the track running along beside it. There was a roar, a medley of sounds, while the actual site of the upset was obscured by a huge cloud of dust.
"That'll do it," thought our hero. "If we have any luck, that upsetting truck will pull the rest of the cars off the road, and bring the whole train to a standstill."
But he was counting his chickens before they were hatched. The cloud of dust blew aside swiftly, and, when he was able to see again, there was the line of cars, nearer by now, leaping madly along, trailing behind them the broken end of the one which had overturned. Right behind, the other portion, together with the greater portion of the last truck of all, was heaped in a confused mass on the second track of rails, disclosing its underframe and its two sets of bogie wheels to the sky.
"That passenger train must be only a couple of miles from us now," said Jim, as he desperately jerked at his levers, in the endeavour to force his car more swiftly along the track. "If I can keep ahead for half that distance I shall manage something, for then the incline lessens. Just here she's going faster if anything. If only I could send this car along quicker!"
He gazed anxiously over his shoulder, in the direction in which he was flying, and was relieved to discover that the rails were clear. Then he took a careful look at the line of cars bounding after him. There was no doubt that the train was nearer. The leading car was within two hundred yards of him, and a minute's inspection told him clearly that the distance between them was lessening very rapidly; for the runaway now seemed to have taken the bit between her teeth with a vengeance. Despite the weight of earth and rock in the cars they were swaying and leaping horribly, causing their springs to oscillate as they had, perhaps, never done before. The wheels on the leading bogie seemed to be as much off the iron tracks as on them, and at every little curve the expanse of daylight on the inner side beneath the trucks increased in proportions, showing how centrifugal force was pulling the heavy mass and endeavouring to upset it. It was an uncanny sight, but yet, for all that, a fascinating one. Jim watched it helplessly, almost spellbound, conscious that the few moments now before him were critical ones. He unconsciously set to work to calculate how long it would take, at the present rate of comparative progression of his own car and the runaway train, for the inevitable collision to occur. Then, seeing the heaving bogies of the trucks, he leaned over the side of his own car and watched the metal wheels. They clattered and thundered on the rails, the spokes were indistinguishable, having the appearance of disks. But at the bends this was altered. The car tipped bodily, the inner wheels left the tracks, and at once their momentum lessened. Then, though he could not see the individual spokes, the disk-like appearance was broken, telling him plainly, even if his eyes had not been sufficiently keen to actually see the fact, that the wheels and the track had parted company.
"Ah!" It was almost a groan that escaped him. In the few minutes in which he had been engaged in examining his own wheels the runaway train had gained on him by leaps and bounds. He could now hear the roar of its wheels above the rumble and clatter of his own, that and the buzz of the motor so busy beneath the bonnet. He cast his eye on either side, as if to seek safety there, and watched the fleeting banks of the Chagres River, bushes and trees, and abandoned French trucks speeding past. A gang of workmen came into view, and he caught just a glimpse of them waving their shovels. Their shouts came to his ears as the merest echoes. Then something else forced itself upon his attention. It was the figure of a white man, standing prominent upon a little knoll beside the rails, and armed with a megaphone. He had the instrument to his mouth, and thundered his warning in Jim's ears.
"Jump!" he shouted. "Jump! She'll be up within a jiffy!"
Within a jiffy! In almost less time than that; there were but two yards now between the small inspection car and the line of loaded trucks. Jim could see the individual pieces of broken rock amongst the dirt, could watch the fantastic manner in which they were dancing. He looked about him, standing up and gripping the side of the car. Then away in front, along the clear tracks. He thought of the passenger train, and remembered that he alone stood between it and destruction.
"I'll stick to this ship whatever happens," he told himself stubbornly. "If the train strikes me and breaks up the car, the wreck may throw it off the rails. Better that than allow it to run clear on into the passenger train. Ah! Here it is."
Crash! The buffers of the leading truck struck the motor inspection car on her leading spring dumb irons, and the buffet sent her hurtling along the track, while the shock of the blow caused Jim to double up over the splashboard. But the wheels did not leave the tracks. Nothing seemed to have been broken. The dumb irons were bent out of shape, that was all.
"Jump, yer fool!" came floating across the air to Jim's ear, while the figure of the man with the megaphone danced fantastically, arms waving violently in all directions.
But Jim would not jump; he had long since made up his mind to stick to his gun, to remain in this car whatever happened; for the safety of the passenger train depended on him. True, a telephone message might have reached the driver; but then it might not have done so. He recollected that at the switch where this mad chase had first begun there was no telephone station closely adjacent. It would be necessary for the man there to run to the nearest one. That would take time, while his own flight down the tracks had endured for only a few minutes, though, to speak the truth, those minutes felt like hours to our hero.
Bang! The cars struck him again, causing the one on which he rode to wobble and swerve horribly; the wheels roared and flashed sparks as the flanges bit at the rails. The bonnet that covered the engine, crinkled up like a concertina; but the car held the track. Jim was still secure, while the second buffet had sent him well ahead. Better than all, he realized that he was now beyond the steeper part of the incline, while his engine was still pulling, urging the car backward. If only he could increase the pace, if only he could add to the distance which separated him from that long line of trucks bounding after him so ruthlessly. Then a groan escaped him; for along the Chagres valley, where, perhaps, in the year 1915 a huge lake will have blotted out the site of the railway along which he flew, and where fleets of huge ships may well be lying, there came the distinct, shrill screech of a whistle. Jim swung round in an agony of terror. He looked along the winding track and his eyes lit upon an object. It was the passenger train, loaded with human freight, standing in the way of destruction.
Barely a mile of the double track of the Panama railway stretched between the inspection car, on which Jim was racing for his life, and the oncoming passenger train. Glancing over his shoulder he could see the smoke billowing from the locomotive and the escape steam blowing out between her leading wheels. Behind him there was the scrunch, the grinding roar, of the long line of steel wheels carrying the runaway spoil train. He kneeled on his driving seat and looked first one way and then the other, hesitating what to do. The rush of air, as he tore along, sent his broad-brimmed hat flying, and set his hair streaking out behind him. His eyes were prominent, there was desperation written on his face; but never once did he think of taking the advice which the megaphone man flung at him.
"Jump for it! No! I won't!" he declared stubbornly to himself. "I'll stick here till there's no chance left; then I'll bring this machine up sharp, and leave her as a buffer between the spoil train and the one bearing passengers. Not that she'll be of much use. That heavy line of cars will punch her out of the way as if she were as light as a bag; but something might happen. The frame of this car might lift the leading wheels of the spoil train from the tracks and wreck her."
There was an exhaust whistle attached to his car, and he set it sounding at once, though all the time his eyes drifted from passenger train to spoil train, from one side of the track to the other. Suddenly there came into view round a gentle bend a mass of discarded machinery. He remembered calling Phineas's attention to it some weeks before. Broken trucks, which had once conveyed dirt from the cut at Culebra for the French workers, had been run from the main track on to a siding and abandoned there to the weather, and to the advance of tropical vegetation, that, in a sinister, creeping manner all its own, stole upon all neglected things and places in this canal zone, and wrapped them in its clinging embrace, covering and hiding them from sight, as if ashamed of the work which man had once accomplished. Jim remembered the spot, and that it was one of the unattended switching stations rarely used—for here the tracks of the railway were less encumbered with spoil trains—yet a post for all that where the driver of an inspection car might halt, might descend and pull over the lever, and so direct his car into the siding.
"I'll do it," he told himself. "If only I can get there soon enough to allow me to reach the lever."
He measured the distance between himself and the pursuing spoil train, and noted that it had increased. His lusty little engine, rattling away beneath its crumpled bonnet, was pulling the car along at a fine pace. True, the velocity was not so great as it had been when descending the first part of the incline, that leading out of the Culebra cut; but then the swift rush of the spoil train was also lessened. The want of fall in the rails was telling on her progress, though, to be sure, she was hurtling along at a speed approximating to fifty miles an hour; but the bump she had given to Jim's car had had a wonderful effect. It had shot the light framework forward, and, with luck, Jim determined to increase the start thus obtained.
"But it'll be touch and go," he told himself, his eye now directed to the switching station, just beyond which the mass of derelict French cars lay. "There's one thing in my favour: the points open from this direction. If it had been otherwise I could have done nothing, for, even if I had attempted to throw the point against the spoil train, the pace she is making would carry her across the gap. Why don't that fellow on the passenger engine shut off steam and reverse? Ain't he seen what's happening?"
He scowled in the direction of the approaching passenger train, and knelt still higher, shaking his fists in that direction. It seemed that the man must be blind, that his attention must be in another direction; for already the line of coaches was within five hundred yards of the points which had attracted Jim's attention, and he realized that she would reach the spot almost as soon as the spoil train would.
"'Cos she's closer," he growled. "If he don't shut off steam, anything I may be able to do will be useless. He'll cross the switch and come head on to the collision."
A minute later he saw a man's figure swing out from the cab of the locomotive on which his eyes were glued, while a hand was waved in his direction. Then a jet of steam and smoke burst from the funnel, while white clouds billowed from the neighbourhood of the cylinders. Even though it was broad daylight, Jim saw sparks and flashes as the wheels of the locomotive were locked and skated along the rails.
"He's seen it; he knows!" he shouted. "But he ain't got time to stop her and reverse away from this spoil train. If that switch don't work there's bound to be a bad collision."
There was no doubt as to that point. The driver and fireman aboard the locomotive recognized their danger promptly, and, like the bold fellows they were, stuck to their posts.
"Brakes hard!" shouted the former, jerking his steam lever over, and bringing the other hand down on that which commanded the reverse. "Hard, man! As hard as you can fix 'em! Be ready to put 'em off the moment she's come to a standstill. This is going to be a case with us, I reckon. That spoil train's doing fifty miles an hour if she's doing one. We can't get clear away from her, onless——"
He blew his whistle frantically, and once more leaned out far from his cab, waving to the solitary figure aboard the flying inspection car.
"Onless what?" demanded the fireman brusquely, his eyes showing prominently in his blackened face, his breath coming fast after his efforts; for both hand and vacuum brakes had been applied.
"Onless that 'ere fellow aboard the inspection car manages to reach the points in time and switch 'em over. Guess he's tryin' for it; but there ain't much space between him and the spoil train. There's goin' ter be an almighty smash."
Thus it appeared to all; for by now men, invisible before, had appeared at different points, and were surveying the scene, holding their breath at the thought of what was about to happen.
"Best get along to the telephone and send 'way up to Gorgona for the ambulance staff," said one of these onlookers. "That 'ere passenger train ain't got a chance of gettin' clear away. She ain't got the room nor the time. Fust the spoil train'll run clear over the inspection car, and grind it and the chap aboard to powder. Then she'll barge into the passenger, and, shucks! there'll be an unholy upset. Get to the telephone, do yer hear!"
He shouted angrily at his comrade, overwrought by excitement, and then set off to run towards the points for which Jim was making. As for the latter, by strenuous efforts, by jagging at his levers, he had contrived to get his engine to run a little faster, and had undoubtedly increased his lead over the spoil train. He was now, perhaps, a long hundred yards in advance.
"Not enough," he told himself. "Going at this pace it'll take time to stop, though the brakes aboard this car are splendid. I know what I'll do. Keep her running till I'm within fifty yards, then throw her out of gear, jam on the brakes, and jump for it just opposite the switch. I'll perhaps be able to roll up to it in time to pull that train over."
It was the only method to employ, without doubt, though the risk would not be light. For, while a motor car on good hard ground can be brought to a standstill within fifty yards when going at a great pace, when shod with steel wheels and running on a metal track the results are different. Jim's steed lacked weight for the work. Though he might lock his wheels, they would skate along the tracks, and reduce his pace slowly. The leap he contemplated must be made from a rapidly moving car. That might result in disaster.
"Better a smash like that than have people aboard the train killed by the dozen," he told himself. "Those points are two hundred yards off; in a hundred I set to at it."
He cast a swift glance towards the passenger train, which was now retreating, and then one at the spoil train. He measured the distance between himself and the latter nicely. Then he dropped his toe on the clutch pedal, and his hand on the speed lever. Click! Out shot the gears, while the engine raced and roared away as if it were possessed. But Jim paid no attention to it. He let it continue racing, and at once jammed on his brakes. It made his heart rise into his mouth when he noticed with what suddenness the spoil train had recovered the interval between them. She was advancing upon him with leaps and bounds. It seemed as if he were not moving. With an effort he took his eyes from the rushing trucks, and fixed them upon the points he hoped to be able to operate. They were close at hand. His glance was caught by the operating lever. The moment for action had arrived, while still his car progressed at a pace which would have made the boldest hesitate to leap from it. But Jim made no pause, more honour to him. He left his seat, placed one hand on the side of the car, and vaulted into space. The ground at the side of the track struck the soles of his feet as if with a hammer, doubling his knees up and jerking his frame forward. The impetus which the moving car had imparted to his body sent him rolling forward. He curled up like a rabbit struck by the sportsman at full pace, and rolled over and over. Then with a violent effort he arrested his forward movement. With hands torn, and every portion of his body jarred and shaken, he brought his mad onward rush to a standstill, and, recovering from the giddiness which had assailed him, found that he was close to the all-important lever governing the points. With a shout Jim threw himself upon it, tugged with all his might, and jerked the points over.
Meanwhile the thunder of the spoil train had grown louder. The scrunch of steel tyres on the rails, and the grinding of the flanges of the wheels against the edges of the track drowned every other sound, even the singing which Jim's tumble had brought to his ears. The runaway, with all its impetus and weight rushing forward to destroy all that happened to be in its path, was within a yard of the points when our hero threw his weight on the lever. The leading wheels struck the points with violence, and Jim, watching eagerly, saw the rims mount up over the crossway. Then the bogie frame jerked and swung to the right, while the four wheels obeyed the direction of the points and ran towards the side track. But it was when the first half of the leading car had passed the points that the commotion came. The dead weight of the contents—projected a moment earlier directly forward—were of a sudden wrenched to one side. The strain was tremendous. Something was bound to give way under it, or the car would capsize.
As it happened, the wreck was brought about by a combination of movements. The front bogie of the truck collapsed, the wheels being torn from their axles. At the same moment the huge mass capsized, flinging its load of rock and dirt broadcast across the track. The noise was simply deafening, while a huge dust cloud obscured the actual scene of the upset from those who were looking on. But Jim could see. As he clung to the lever he watched the first truck come to grief in an instant. After that he himself was overwhelmed in the catastrophe; for the remaining trucks piled themselves up on the stricken leader. The second broke its coupling and mounted on the first; while the third, deflected to one side, shot past Jim as if it were some gigantic dart, and swept him and the lever away into space. The remainder smashed themselves into matchwood, all save five in rear, which, with retarded impetus, found only a bank of fallen dirt and rock that broke the collision and left them shaking on the track. When the onlookers raced to the spot, and the people aboard the passenger train joined them, there was not a sight of the young fellow who had controlled the inspection car and had saved a disastrous collision.
"Guess he's buried ten feet deep beneath all that dirt and stuff," said one of the men, gazing at the ruin. "I seed him run to the lever. Run, did I say? He jest rolled, that's what he did. He war just in time, though, and then, gee! there war a ruction. I've seen a bust-up on a railway afore, but bless me if this wasn't the wildest I ever seed. Did yer get to the telephone?"
His comrade reassured him promptly.
"I rung 'em up at Gorgona," he answered. "There's a dirt train coming along with the ambulance and Commission doctor aboard, besides a wrecking derrick. That young chap saved a heap of lives you'd reckon?"
It was in the nature of a question, and the answer came from the first speaker speedily.
"Lives! a full trainload, man. I seed his game from the beginning, and guess it war the only manœuvre that was worth trying. It was a race for the points, and the man aboard the inspection car won by a short head. He hadn't more'n a second or two to spare once he got a grip of the lever; but I reckon he's paid his own life for the work. He war a plucked 'un—a right down real plucked 'un!"
He stared fiercely into the eyes of the other man, as if he challenged him to deny the statement; but there were none who had seen this fine display of courage who had aught but enthusiasm for it. There was no dissentient voice; the thing was too plain and palpable.
"Some of you men get searching round to see if you can find a trace of that young fellow," cried one of the Commission officials who happened to come running up at this moment. "If he's under this dirt he'll be smothered while we're talking."
Every second brought more helpers for the task, and very soon there were a hundred men round the wreck of the spoil train; for the driver of the passenger train had stopped his reverse movement as soon as he saw that all danger for his own charge had gone. Then he had steamed forward till within a foot of the inspection car which Jim had driven. The latter, thanks to the fact that the brake was jammed hard on, came to a halt some thirty yards beyond the points, and stood there with its engine roaring. But the fireman quickly shut off the ignition. Passengers poured from the coaches—for it happened that a number of officials were making a trip to the far end of the Culebra cut to inspect progress—and at once hastened to the side of the wreck. But search as they might there was no trace of the lad who had saved so many lives by his gallantry and resourcefulness.
"Come here and tell me what you think of this," suddenly said one of the officials, drawing his comrades after him to the tail end of the train, to the shattered remains of the two trucks which had overturned at a bend, and which had been trailing and clattering along the track in wake of the spoil train. He invited their inspection of the couplings which had bound the last of the cars to the locomotive. There came a whistle of surprise from one of his friends, while something like a shout of indignation escaped another.
"Well?" demanded the first of the officials. "What's your opinion?"
"That this was no accident. This train broke away from her loco. when she was on the incline because some rascal had cut through the couplings. That, sir, 's my opinion," answered the one he addressed, with severity.
There was agreement from all, so that, at the first examination, and before having had an opportunity of questioning those who had been in charge of the spoil train, it became evident that there had been foul play, that some piece of rascality had been practised.
"But who could think of such a thing? There's never been any sort of mean game played on us before this. Whose work is it?" demanded one of the officials hotly.
"That's a question neither you nor I can answer," instantly responded another. "But my advice is that we say not a word. There are but six of us who know about the matter. Let us report to the chief, and leave him to deal with it. For if there is some rascal about, the fact that his work is discovered will warn him. If he thinks he has hoodwinked everyone there will be a better opportunity of discovering him."
The advice was sound, without question, so that, beyond arranging to get possession of the coupling, which showed that it had fractured opposite a fine saw cut, the party of officials preserved silence for the moment. Meanwhile American hustle had brought crowds of helpers to the spot. A locomotive had steamed down from Gorgona, pushing a wrecking derrick before it, and within thirty minutes this was at work, with a crew of willing helpers. A gang of Italian spademen was brought up from the other direction, and these began to remove the rock and dirt. As to Jim, not a trace of him was found till three of the overturned and wrecked trucks had been dragged clear by the wrecking derrick. It was then that the actual site of the lever which operated the points was come upon, the most likely spot at which to discover his body.
"We'll go specially easy here," said the official who was directing operations. "Though one expects that the man is killed, and smothered by all this dirt, yet you never can say in an accident of this sort. I've known a life saved most miraculously."
The hook at the end of the huge chain run over the top of the derrick was attached to the forward bogie of the overturned car, then the whole thing was lifted. Underneath was found a mass of dirt and rock which the impetus of the car had tossed forward. At the back, just beneath the edge of the truck, where it had thrust its way a foot into the ground, one of the workers caught sight of an arm with the fingers of the hand protruding from the debris. "Hold hard!" he shouted. "He's here. Best wait till we've tried to pull him out. The car might swing on that chain and crush him."
They kept the end of the wrecked truck suspended while willing hands sought for our hero. A man crept in under the truck, swept the earth away, and passed the listless figure of the young car driver out into the open. Jim was at once placed on a stretcher, while the Commission surgeon bent over him, dropping a finger on his pulse. He found it beating, very slowly to be sure, but beating without doubt, while a deep bruise across the forehead suggested what had happened. A rapid inspection of his patient, in fact, convinced the surgeon that there was no serious damage.
"Badly stunned, I guess," he said. "I can't find that any bones are broken, and though I thought at first that his skull must be injured, everything points to my fears being groundless. Put him in the ambulance, boys, and let's get him back to hospital."
An hour later our hero was safely between the sheets, with a nurse superintending his comfort. By the time that Phineas arrived on the scene he was conscious, though hardly fit for an interview; but on the following morning he was almost himself, and chafed under the nurse's restraint till the surgeon gave him permission to get up.
"As if I was a baby," he growled. "I suppose I fell on my head, and that knocked me silly. But it's nothing; I haven't more than the smallest headache now."
"Just because you're lucky, young fellow," quizzed the surgeon. "Let me say this: the tumble you had was enough to knock you silly, and I dare say that if you hadn't had something particular to do you would have gone off at once. But your grit made you hold on to your senses. That car, when it overturned, as near as possible smashed your head into the earth beneath it. You'll never be nearer a call while you're working here on the canal. Low diet, sister, and see that he keeps quiet."
Jim glowered on the surgeon and made a grimace. "Low diet indeed! Why, he felt awful hungry."
But no amount of entreaty could influence the nurse, and, indeed, it became apparent to even our hero himself that the course of procedure was correct. For that evening he was not so well, though a long, refreshing sleep put him to rights.
"And now you can hear something about the commotion the whole thing's caused," said Phineas, as he put Jim into a chair in his parlour, and ordered him with severity to retain his seat. "Orders are that you keep quiet, else back you go right off to the hospital. Young man, there were forty-two souls aboard that passenger train, and I reckon you saved 'em. Of course, there are plenty of wise heads that tell us that the driver, when he'd stopped his train, should have turned all the passengers out. Quite so, sir; but then it takes time to do that. You might not have opened the points, and the spoil train would have been into them before the people could climb down out of the cars. So the general feeling is that everyone did his best, except the villain who cut that coupling half through. They've told you about it?"
Jim nodded slowly. "Who could have done such a miserable and wicked thing?" he asked. "Not one of the white employees."
"It don't bear thinking about," said Phineas sharply. "No one can even guess who was the rascal. Leave the matter to the police; they're making quiet enquiries. But there's to be a testimonial, Jim, a presentation one evening at the club, and a sing-song afterwards."
"What? More!" Jim groaned. "Let them take this testimonial as presented. I'll come along to the sing-song."
"And there's to be promotion for a certain young fellow we know," proceeded Phineas, ignoring his remarks utterly. "One of the bosses of a section down by Milaflores locks got his thumb jammed in a gear wheel a week back, and the chief has been looking round to replace him. You've been selected."
Jim's eyes enlarged and brightened at once. He was such a newcomer to the canal zone that promotion had seemed out of the question for a long time to come. He told himself many a time that he was content to work on as he was and wait like the rest for advancement.
"The wages are really good," he had said to Sadie, "and after I've paid everything there is quite a nice little sum over at the end of the week. I'm putting it by against a rainy day."
And here was promotion! By now he had learned the scale of wages and salaries that were paid all along the canal. Such matters were laid down definitely, and were decidedly on the liberal side. With a flush of joy he realized that, as chief of a section, he would be in receipt of just double the amount he had had when working the rock drill.
"And of course there'll be compensation for the accident, just the same as in the case of any other employee," added Phineas, trying to appear as if he had not noticed the tears of joy which had risen to Jim's eyes. For who is there of his age, imbued with the same keenness, with greater responsibilities on his young shoulders than falls to the lot of the average lad, who would not have gulped a little and felt unmanned by such glorious news? Consider the circumstances of our hero's life for some little time past. It had been a struggle against what had at times seemed like persistent bad fortune. First his father ruined, then the whole family compelled to leave their home and drift on the Caribbean. The loss of his father and then of his brother had come like final blows which, as it were, drove the lessons of his misfortunes home to Jim. And there was Sadie, at once a comfort and an anxiety. Jim alone stood between her and charity.
"There'll be compensation for the accident," continued Phineas, "and reward from the Commissioners for saving that train of passenger cars. You've got to remember that it is cheaper any day to smash up a spoil train than it is to wreck one carrying people. One costs a heap more to erect than the other. So there you saved America a nice little sum. I needn't say that if the people aboard had been killed, compensation would have amounted to a big figure. So the Commission has received powers from Washington to pay over 500 dollars. I rather think that'll make a nice little nest egg against the day you get married."
Phineas roared with laughter as he caught a glimpse of Jim's face after those last words. Indignation and contempt were written on the flushed features. Then our hero joined in the merriment. "Gee! If there ever was a lucky dog, it's me!" he cried. "Just fancy getting a reward for such a job! As for the nest egg and marrying, I've better things to do with that money. I'll invest it, so that Sadie shall have something if I'm unlucky enough next time not to escape under similar circumstances. Bein' married can wait till this canal's finished. Guess I've enough to do here. I'm going to stay right here till the works are opened and I've sailed in a ship from Pacific to Atlantic."
Phineas smiled, and, leaning across, gripped his young friend's hand and shook it hard. Open admiration for the pluck which our hero had displayed, now on more than one occasion, was transparent in the eyes of this American official. But there was more. Jim had caught that strange infection which seemed to have taken the place of the deadly yellow fever. It was like that pestilence, too, in this, that it was wonderfully catching, wonderfully quick to spread, and inflicted itself upon all and sundry, once they had settled down in the zone. But there the simile between this infection and that of the loathsome yellow fever ended. That keenness for the work, that determination to relax no energy, but to see what many thought a hopeless undertaking safely and surely accomplished, had, in the few months since he came to the canal zone, fastened itself upon Jim, till there was none more eager all along the line between the Pacific and the Atlantic.
"Yes," he repeated, "I'll stay right here till the canal's opened. By then that nest egg ought to be of respectable proportions."
A week later there was a vast gathering at the clubhouse, when one of the chief officials of the canal works presented Jim with a fine gold watch and chain to the accompaniment of thunderous applause from the assembled employees. At the same time the reward sent or sanctioned by the Government at Washington was handed over to him. A merry concert followed, and then the meeting broke up. It was to be Jim's last evening in the neighbourhood of Gatun.
"Of course you'll have to live in one of the hotels at Ancon," said Phineas, when discussing the matter, "for it is too long a journey from there to this part to make every day. It would interfere with your work. You can come along weekends, and welcome. Sadie'll stop right here; I won't hear of her leaving."
The arrangement fell in with our hero's wishes, for there was no doubt but that his sister was in excellent hands. She had taken a liking to Phineas's housekeeper, and was happy amongst her playmates at the Commission school close at hand. Jim left her, therefore, in the care of his friend, and was soon established in his quarters in a vast Commission hotel at Ancon, within easy distance of Milaflores, the part where he was to be chief of a section of workers. He found that the latter were composed for the most part of Italians, though there were a few other European nationalities, as well as some negroes.
"You'll have plans given you and so get to know what the work is," said his immediate superior. "Of course what we're doing here is getting out foundations for the two tiers of double locks. You'll have a couple of steam diggers to operate, besides a concrete mill; for we're putting tons of concrete into our foundations. A young chap like you don't want to drive. Though it's as well to remember that foreigners same as these ain't got the same spirit that our men have. They don't care so much for the building of the canal as for the dollars they earn, but if you take them the right way you can get a power of work out of them."
The advice given was, as Jim found, excellent, and with his sunny nature and his own obvious preference for hard work, in place of idleness, he soon became popular with his section, and conducted it for some weeks to the satisfaction of those above him. Nor did he find the work less interesting. The huge concrete mill was, in itself, enough to rivet attention, though there was a sameness about its movements which was apt to become monotonous when compared with the varied, lifelike motions of the steam diggers. Rubble and cement were loaded into its enormous hopper by the gangs of workmen, and ever there was a mass of semi-fluid concrete issuing from the far side, ready mixed for the foundations of the locks which, when the hour arrives, will carry the biggest ships the world is capable of building. On Saturday afternoon, when the whistles blew earlier than on weekdays, Jim would return to his hotel, wash and change, and take the first available car down the tracks to Gatun. A concert at the club was usually arranged for Saturday night, while on Sunday he went to the nearest church with Phineas and Sadie, and then returned in the evening to Ancon.
"Strange that we should never be able to get any information about that runaway spoil train," said Phineas, on one of the occasions when Jim went over to Gatun. "There's never been a word about it. The police have failed to fathom what is at this day still a mystery. But there's a rascal at work somewhere. There's been a severe fire down Colon way, sleepers near pitched a passenger train from the rails opposite the dam there, while one night, when the works were deserted, someone took the brakes off a hundred-ton steam digger, and sent her running down the tracks. She smashed herself to pieces, besides wrecking a dozen cars."
The news was serious, in fact, and pointed unmistakably to a criminal somewhere on the canal, someone with a grudge against the undertaking, or against the officials. It made Jim think instantly of Jaime de Oteros, though why he could not imagine. But he was soon to know; little time was to pass before he was to come face to face with the miscreant.
If ever there were a rascal it was Jaime de Oteros, the Spaniard, who, if his past history were but fully known, had left his own native country, now many years ago, a fugitive from justice. Armed with sufficient money to obtain an entrance into the United States of America, he had quickly re-embarked upon the course he had been following, and with the gang he had contrived to gather about him had committed many burglaries. Then, the police being hot on his track, he had left the country, and had begun operations again in southern America.
"That is our information about the man," said the police major, as he was discussing the matter with Phineas and Jim one Saturday evening, when the latter was over at Gatun for the usual weekend stay. "The rascal knew that the police in New York State were making anxious search for him, and with his usual astuteness—for the man is astute without a doubt, and is, indeed, well educated—he slipped away before the net closed round him. Later we hear of him at various ports along the Mexican Gulf, and then in the canal zone. Tom brings us news of great importance."
The big negro stood before them, looking magnificent in his police uniform, and with an air of authority about him which was entirely new, and which caused Jim to struggle hard to hide his mirth; for he knew Tom so well. Severity did not match well with the huge negro's jolly nature.
"I'se seed dis scum ob a man," he declared to them all, rolling his eyes. "Yo tink Tom make one big mistake. Not 'tall; noding of de sort. Me sartin sure. Him come out ob a house in Colon. Same man, but different. No beard, face clean shaved; but scowl all de same. Tom know de blackguard when he see um."
"But," said Phineas, "if you knew him why did you not arrest him? There is a warrant out for his apprehension."
"And me try; but dat Spaniard dog quick, quicker'n Tom. Him slip back into de house and clear out ob de back door. Not dere two second later," declared the negro. "And not dere agin when me and Sam go some hours after. Not come all de time dat we hide up and watch. Him vanish into thin air."
It was a pretty figure of speech for the negro, and brought a huge smile to his jolly countenance. "Vanish right slick away into de mist," he added, as if to give more weight to his words.
"And has not been seen by anyone else, before or since," said the Major, his face become very serious. "But I believe Tom is right. Who else could be the author of these many affairs along the line of canal works?"
He looked closely at Phineas, and from him turned to Jim and then to Tom. There was indecision on all the faces, though in the hearts of each one there was not the smallest doubt that Jaime de Oteros was the instigator, even if he did not actually carry out the work. The matter was serious, very serious, without a doubt.
"It isn't as if there were one isolated case," said the Major. "There have been many, and though so far the running away of spoil trains, the upsetting of wagons, and so forth has not resulted in the killing of our employees, it will do so, perhaps, next time, if we do not take steps to put an end to such matters. The difficulty is to know where to begin. We have men engaged in watching every mile of the track, but they do not all know this ruffian, though we have circulated his photograph; besides, he has altered his appearance. He is the most elusive criminal I have ever had dealings with, and at the same time one of the boldest. But a feeling of revenge cannot alone cause him to stay on here in the canal zone, and risk arrest."
If only the Major could have known it, there was a good deal more than the desire to pay off an old score to keep Jaime de Oteros in that locality. The Spaniard had now put in at many a port along that part of the world, and had discovered that the canal zone offered finer opportunities to a man such as he was than any other place.
"Just because there's always money in plenty there," he told the four companions he now had, for he had gathered two recruits to take the place of those who had been lost on the launch. "It is like this, mates. Here, on the canal, nearly every soul is at work during the hours of daylight, and though the police have little to do, and therefore plenty of time to watch for people such as us, yet the fact that there is so little crime in the zone puts them off their guard. I'm tired of playing off that score. Reckon I'm near even with the lot of them; but there's still a little to do. There's that young fellow who ran the engine aboard the launch, and who was the first to come upon our gang and split it up. He's got to suffer."
He looked round at the ruffians assembled about him, and read approval in their eyes.
"A grudge is a grudge," said one of them fiercely, dropping his hand to the weapon he carried in his belt. "Where I came from an injury done was never paid for till a knife thrust had been given. This young fellow must suffer. How? What is the plan?"
Jaime shrugged his shoulders expressively, and shook his head. "That's for the future," he said quickly. "I'm thinking it out. I've an idea, a fine idea."
Into his eyes there came a savage flash which boded ill for our hero, while the brows contracted and the lips slipped back from his sharp teeth. At that moment Jaime de Oteros, in place of the polished, smooth-spoken man he could pretend so well to be, was actually himself, a villain who knew not the name of conscience, who would stop at nothing, whose savage disposition was capable of carrying out any atrocity. Then he smiled suddenly at his comrades, a crafty smile which was meant to convey a great deal.
"Let it rest for the moment, this idea of mine," he said. "What we've got to talk about is this cash. There's money due within a day or two, money for the payment of the hands engaged on the canal. Well, we've made one haul already; we can make another, and then clear for good. This zone will be too hot to hold us once the work's finished. Now, let me hear the report. A good general never enters upon an engagement before he has made full arrangements to get clear off in case of things going wrong. Well, things will go wrong here—not for us, but for the officials. They'll be real mad, and will do all they know to follow. Let me hear what has happened."
There was a snivel of delight on the face of the rascal who had formerly spoken, and who now responded to his chief's invitation.
"I was to see what sort of a boat there was ready to put out from Colon," he said. "I found one that was rather likely. The old pirate she belongs to has been here all his life, and what he don't know of the surroundings ain't worth knowing. He's ready to clear from the harbour, with two of his sons and two others he'll hire, the instant we want him to do so. Reckon it'll be nigh about sundown when the time for moving comes."
Jaime nodded curtly. "About that," he agreed, "Well?"
"This old pirate likes fishing. He'll watch for a fire signal way up over Gatun, and then he'll clear right off with his boat. Of course he'll do it secretly, but not too secretly. People'll be allowed to catch a glimpse of men getting aboard, and of the boat putting out. She'll disappear."
"Ah!" Jaime rubbed his hands together, and then began to roll a cigarette with the nimblest of fingers. A smile broke out over his face, and for the moment the man looked almost handsome. "She'll disappear," he giggled. "Yes, where? I begin to follow the move."
"Where? That's for the police to decide. Ef they was to ask me at the time I couldn't place a guess. But that old pirate knows a cove, quite handy to Colon, where, once a man's lowered his topsail, he can lay hid with his boat from all save those who care to come right into the cove. Our man says he'll do a bit of fishing. He'll pass his time with that and sleeping, while the police steam right on, searching for the boat that left Colon so secretly. Ef they ain't bamboozled, wall, call me a Dutchman."
There was a roar of merriment from the five ruffians. They lay back in their chairs, and closed their eyes, as if thereby to help themselves to imagine the spectacle of the Commission Police racing across the sea on a wild-goose chase. Indeed it was one of the enjoyments of their particular thieving profession to set the police at naught, and make them look foolish by their own astuteness. And here was an astute plan.
"It licks creation," laughed Jaime, bringing a fist down with a crash on to the table, and exposing a hand burned brown by the sun, and on the fingers of which more than one ring glittered. "This old man of yours will fool them nicely for us, and while the police are away on the sea, we shall cut off in a different direction. That brings us to the second report. You see I have to be very careful. Time was when I saw to all these matters myself; but hereabouts I'm known, and badly wanted. In spite of shaving off my beard I might easily be recognized, as by that nigger. Gee! Ef he comes up agin me again I'll give him reasons to mind his manners. Now, what about the horses?"
He turned to another of his comrades, to the second of the two new recruits he had gathered to his band, and looked inquisitively at him. The man was ready with his answer, and blurted it out eagerly, like a schoolboy who longs to make his own voice heard before all others.
"Horses," said the fellow, a dusky South American, whose swarthy features were deeply lined and pitted. "Trust me to pick the right sort when they're wanted. You told me to seek mounts strong enough to carry us across a rough country, and fix a rate to be paid for 'em. I went a little better. There ain't many cattle in this place, so that one hasn't to look far. But along over there," and he jerked his head over his left shoulder, "there's a biggish farm, where there's a dozen mounts. We'll want six, I guess, five for ourselves, and one for the dollars."
"Seven," corrected Jaime suddenly. "Seven, my comrade."
All looked at him curiously. Their chief was not wont to make mistakes, but here it looked as if he were miscalculating. However, Jaime smiled serenely back at them. "Seven horses without doubt," he said quietly, blowing a cloud of smoke from his lips, and cutting it asunder with a wave of his ringed fingers. "Precisely that number."
"I don't follow; six is the figure I put it at," came the answer. "Unless——" and at the thought the rascal's face lit up with glee, "unless you reckon the dollars'll be too many for one bag."
But the leader of the band shook his head, and smiled ambiguously. "Seven horses will be required," he said slowly. "Tell us more of the business. You arranged the payment?"
"I fixed the business in a different manner. I scouted round a little, and soon found that, at nighttime, there were but one man and a woman about the place. The stables are well away from the house, and easy to get at. I fixed that there wouldn't be any payment."
There was a cunning expression about his face as he looked round at his comrades, while the lines about his eyes were sunken deeper. Jaime rewarded him with a loud "Bravo!" "You begin well with us, comrade," he said eagerly. "The report is a good one. But one little matter occurs to me: this farm is near the works, eh? It is connected by telephone?"
The other rascal at once relieved him of the doubt. "It lies packed away in a hollow, just on the edge of the zone," he said. "The folks ain't never seen a telephone."
"Then that matter is agreed upon. We can now begin to decide what each one of us is to do. I'll tell you right now what I had intended. To call away attention from the place where the money's banked we decided to cause an upset pretty adjacent. Well, now, the Culebra cutting seemed to be the most likely spot of all. I've been thinking and planning. A ruction there could be heard way up and down the line, and would set people running. The point was, how to cause that ruction."
There was more than passing interest on the faces of his followers. In their opinion this leader of theirs was a fine fellow, a cunning man, one whom it was an honour to follow. They awaited the details of his plan with eagerness, not to say anxiety.
"And how did you fix it?" asked one of the men, proceeding to light his cigarette by means of the candle burning before him. "Another train let loose? A shot under the wheels of a passenger coach? A dozen diggers sent scuttling?"
There was a snigger on his face, quickly copied by the others. Jaime showed his pleasure by smiling broadly. After all, it was one of his pleasures in life to have the praise and high opinion of his following. He pulled at his cigarette thoughtfully, and then proceeded with his plan.
"We've played too many of those games already," he said, with a short laugh. "The officials of the canal are always on the lookout. But the plan I fastened on to would have taken their breath away, if it didn't manage to deprive some of them of the same for good and always. I'd been watching those rock drills, and the powder men laying their shots. It seemed to me that once the shots were wired, and connected to the firing cables, a man had only to get to the firing-point and operate the igniter. I got asking questions. I've done a bit on electricity works before now, and I soon saw that the thing was possible. With a little luck I could fire their shots for them."
The faces about him showed doubt and a lack of comprehension, for Jaime was far more intelligent than any of the other members of his rascally band. "What was the object of firing those shots?" they asked themselves. But their leader soon explained the matter.
"It is like this," he said suavely, as if describing an everyday matter: "the shots are laid ready for firing, and when the works are cleared the man who operates the igniter gets to work and explodes them, one by one or in batches, according to the wiring. Well, now, if the place is cleared of workers, there's no damage done, though rocks and dirt fly out in all directions. But if there was an accident—if, for instance, I happened to meddle with the igniter before the works were cleared—there'd be a tremendous ruction, and that's what we're wanting."
The diabolical nature of his suggestion dawned only slowly upon the minds of his following; but when it did so, when they fully comprehended his meaning, their faces flushed with enthusiasm. Each of the five had worked on the canal, and had seen those dynamite shots fired. Tons of earth and rock spouted in all directions. That they had witnessed. To remain in the neighbourhood meant certain death for many, injury for not a few, and a commotion which the officials and workers had so far never experienced. There was joy on their faces. They banged the table with their fists, and stretched across to grasp the rascally palm of their leader; but Jaime silenced them with uplifted hand.
"It sounded right, I grant," he said between the puffs of smoke; "but there was a fly in the ointment. The igniter is kept under lock and key. The place is guarded. These canny Americans know that those shots mean danger, and they don't run risks. If I tried the game, the chances are I should be disturbed or taken in the act of trying. So I wiped it out; I started in to think out another plan, something noisy, something that would draw all officials to the spot, away from the place where the money is lying. And at last I fixed it. One of you men will change places with a hand at Pedro Miguel, where they're building in their foundations for one of the big locks at the end of the Culebra cutting. You'll work with the rest till the whistles go at sundown, and then, when the coast is clear, you'll sneak back to the workings. I'll give you the rest of the plan later on; but you'll be the one to create a most almighty ruction, you'll be the one to draw off every official, and while they're busy we others'll get to work at the money. It'll be eight o'clock before we can meet at this farm, and an hour later will take us into the bush. Next morning we'll be right away in the swamps, with friends about us, while the police will be following the old fellow, who will put to sea the previous evening."
They sat in silence for a while, Jaime regarding each one of his band in turn, scrutinizing their faces closely, as if seeking for something in particular. Then he fastened upon one of them, and stretched across to grip his hand.
"Juan is a brave man," he said impressively; "he will take the post of which I have spoken. To him falls the honour of creating such a trouble that those who go for the dollars may be able to take them easily. It is a post worth the having."
The rascal greedily accepted it He was one of Jaime's old hands, and had complete confidence in his chief. Moreover, he had now helped him in so many risky operations that fear did not enter into his calculations. Why should it, indeed, seeing that all others would be in ignorance? The plot was being hatched in secrecy. None would know that anything was to happen until the moment arrived. The hard-working officials of the canal would be unable to recover from their astonishment before he and his friends were gone. Juan drank deeply from the cup before him, and replenished the vessel from a stone jar standing on the table.
"It is settled; whatever the plan, it is accomplished," he said with the greatest assurance.
"Then we have merely to arrange the parts for the others. Miguel sees to the horses. Our friend Alfonso, who made the arrangement with the boatman, will be with Miguel, and will light a flare above Gatun at seven in the evening, or sooner if he discovers that there is a commotion. The two will then go to the farm, take the horses, and ride towards Ancon. There is a spot at the bottom of a rocky hill, where the road sweeps sharply round into the valley. My friends, we have all been there before. It is there that we will meet when the work is finished. Pedro and myself will take the money, then Pedro will carry it to the horses. But I ought to have said that Alfonso and Miguel will not ride towards Ancon with all the horses. They will leave three at the back of Gatun, at a spot we can arrange upon. There Pedro will take the money and load it on one of the horses. He will wait for me; I shall come, and then we will ride to the place of meeting."
There were inquisitive glances thrown at the man by his comrades. The question of the seventh horse again occurred to them. Jaime smiled when he remarked their curiosity, and busily employed himself in rolling a cigarette. It pleased him to watch his comrades as they endeavoured to fathom his purpose.
"You ride to join Pedro after a while then?" queried the rascal Juan. "What keeps you? Ah, I see it! A private grudge—that young fellow."
Jaime nodded easily, and smiled openly upon them all. "I have still some work to accomplish," he said slowly. "You would not ask me to leave this place allowing something to remain unfinished? Think for a moment. We were comfortable and content here till that young dog pried into our secrets. And what resulted? Three of us were arrested, and should have been hanged perhaps by now had we not broken out of prison. Two of our comrades were followed, and, though they were not killed, we have had news that they were badly wounded. In addition, our game here was spoiled for the time being. The officials locked their money up tighter than ever, so that we had to move elsewhere in order to earn a living. But that is all changed now; we are getting even with the fellows. Already we have caused them much trouble, and now we will skin them of every dollar, damage their works, and give this young dog such a lesson that he will never interfere again. Good! It is fine to feel that the day of reckoning has come at last. Juan, pass the bottle. With plans like these to act upon a man requires a fillip."
Far into the night they sat discussing their rascally movements, and the following day found all but Jaime abroad and active. That very afternoon, in fact, Alfonso brought them information that a ship had come into Colon bearing specie for the officials, money with which to pay America's army of workmen.
"I watched it unloaded," said the rascal, glee on his face. "There were boxes of silver and a huge mass of notes; for of course wages are paid in paper. All the better for us, my friends. Paper is easy to carry, and is still valuable. They can publish the numbers of the stolen notes as much as they like, but still we can get value for them."
"And the destination of these boxes?" asked Jaime anxiously.
Alfonso told him with pride. He had followed the consignment, and had seen it deposited at the door of one of the official offices. He had seen it carried in, and drew a plan of the building.
"Then to-night," said Jaime, pulling at the inevitable cigarette. "Juan has already gone across to Pedro Miguel. And you—you have made full arrangements with the boatman?"
"Full and complete; there will be no hitch to-night," cried Alfonso, banging the table.
A stranger happening to take rail at Colon on this day would have been utterly astounded had he been informed that there was to be a commotion that very evening. For the trip along the whole length of the Panama Railway would have shown him armies of men and officials engaged methodically with their work. The busy scene of smoking steam diggers, of rock drills, and hustling spoil trains would have resolved itself finally, when his eye was at last accustomed to the vastness of it all, into a scene of order and method, into a gigantic undertaking which occupied the wits and strength of all whom he saw. He would at last have appreciated the fact that those vast works at Gatun, and between it and Limon Bay, had a direct connection with that enormous cutting which occupied the time of such an army of delvers at Culebra, though twenty odd miles separated the two, and that throughout the length of the Panama zone, stretching from north to south of the isthmus, the work undertaken by any one man had some special relation to that appointed to another. Moreover, that, in spite of distances, in spite of the fact that the undertaking seemed to be progressing piecemeal at widely separated intervals, yet each and every part was a portion of the whole, a necessary portion, where the work in hand was conducted with a hustle and method truly American, and with a swing which augured for success. But of commotion there was not a sign. That traveller could not possibly have guessed that the evening had a disaster in store for the people who worked beneath his eye.
It was precisely half-past five on this special evening when a terrible explosion shook every one of the wooden buildings at Ancon, and caused the verandas at Gorgona to shake as if they would tumble. A vast flame seemed to leap into the air, there came a thunderous report, that went echoing down the Chagres valley, and then dust and debris obscured the sky in the direction of Pedro Miguel. The serene face of this portion of the zone, lit a second or so before by a wonderful moon, was obscured as if by the work of a volcano.
Instantly men poured out from the Commission hotels, and stood in the street of Ancon and the nearest settlement, asking what had happened.
"Guess it's the dynamite store gone off suddenly," cried one, his hands deep in his pockets, a pipe in his mouth. "Hope none of the boys ain't hurt, nor the works neither. It's been a bad blow-up anyway."
It was an hour later before details filtered through, then, all along the line, it was learned that an attempt had been made to wreck the foundation of the lock at Pedro Miguel.
"Another of them anarchistic attempts," growled one of the men. "Guess this is too almighty queer fer anything. Here's spoil trains been sent runnin' down from the cut, and the same with diggers. Sleepers and suchlike laid on the rails in order to throw passenger trains off the metals, fires, and what not. This is the limit."
"It's one of the most serious difficulties we have had to face, boys," said one of the canal officials, coming upon the group of men at that moment. "I've just come along from the dock at Pedro Miguel, and there isn't a doubt that some rascal endeavoured to blow the whole place to pieces. It's Jim Partington's section, and he'd left everything safe and sound. There wasn't a rock drill working there, and hasn't been this three weeks past. Consequently there weren't any dynamite shots; but a man was seen creeping down that way soon after sundown. Guess he'd fixed to place his bomb right in the trench where the foundations are being laid; but something went wrong with it. He was blown to pieces; there were only scraps of him to be found."
There was a grunt of satisfaction at the news; the men felt that such a fate was only just retribution.
"But what damage has been done, boss?" asked one of the men anxiously, as if the success of the canal depended on the answer.
"None; in fact the explosion seems to have helped us. Young Jim Partington tells me he was making a requisition for a rock drill this coming week, as there was a heap of stuff to break down before the diggers could get at it. Well, he's saved the trouble. That explosion brought tons of stuff away, and now there's hardly need for a rock drill. Of course you've got to remember that it's dark 'way over there, and a man can't fix exactly what may have happened. But we made a quick, and, I believe, thorough survey of the place, and I should say that I've told you everything. This blessed cur who has been worrying us these weeks past has come by his deserts at last."
There was, in fact, not the smallest doubt that the rascally plot of Jaime and his followers had failed at the very beginning. Juan, who had accepted the post of honour, had disappeared from the scene swiftly and terribly. He had been hoist by his own petard, and, as the official had stated, there was little left to show that he had actually existed.
But still there was Jaime to reckon with, Jaime de Oteros and his fellows, and the reader need feel little surprise when he hears that, later on in the evening, there was another disturbance. It was discovered that the pay offices had been burgled, and that a vast sum of money had been removed. Then came an urgent telephone message to Ancon. The instrument at the club rang loudly and continuously, causing one of the men to go to it instantly. Jim, who had just returned from an inspection of his section, where the explosion had taken place, sat at a table near at hand, and, though there was no reason why the telephone should be calling him more than any other, he watched his comrade and listened.
"What's that? Say, who are you?" he heard the man demand. Then he suddenly looked over his shoulder, and if ever a man bore a startled expression it was this one. "Say, Jim, there," he called out, "they're ringing you from Gatun. It's Phineas Barton; there's trouble down there as well."
Jim was beside him in a moment, the receiver to his ear; and at once he recognized Phineas's voice, but strangely altered.
"Yes?" he asked as coolly as he could, though something set his heart thumping. "It's Jim at this end."
"Then come right along without waitin'. We've trouble down this end. Bring a shooter; I'll tell you about it when you arrive. The Police Major is here waiting."
It was serious news, whatever it was, for Phineas's voice proved it. Jim crammed his hat on to his head, raced back to his quarters and snatched a mackintosh, a revolver, and a spare shirt, and then ran down to the railway. He found a motor inspection car awaiting him, with a couple of policemen in it, one of whom was Tomkins.
"You kin get along with it," said the latter curtly, addressing the driver. "And we ain't nervous, so let her go as fast as you're able. Jim, there's a regular upset from end to end of the zone, and I'm beginning to get through with it. That explosion was a blind, meant to occupy our attention while those rascals, for there's more than one of 'em, robbed the pay office. But that ain't all. They were up to some other sort of mischief down Gatun way, and the Major 'phoned through to us to come along that second. We were to bring you, too; so it seems that you've something to do with the business."
Let the reader imagine how Jim fretted upon that quick journey. He wondered why he should have been called, and how the matter could specially interest him. A thousand ideas flashed through his busy mind, and were banished as unsatisfactory. It was not until the motor raced into Gatun, and he caught a glimpse of Phineas's face, that he realized that the matter must be particularly serious. His friend took him by the hand and held it.
"Jim," he said, and his voice broke ever so little, "those scoundrels deserve hanging. We were right in thinking that Jaime de Oteros had to do with the business, and I guess he'd made up his mind to get even with you for finding the gang and getting it broken. He settled to blow up your section, then he broke into the pay office, and last of all, to pay you out properly, the ruffian slank down to my quarters. Sadie was indoors, of course——"
Jim staggered backwards. He had never even thought of Sadie in connection with this disaster. The fear that she had been injured, perhaps killed, caused his cheek to pale even beneath the deep tan with which it was covered.
"Get on," he said a moment later, pulling himself together with an effort. "Sadie was indoors. Yes. That villain——"
"That villain had fixed to abduct her. We were all outside, watchin' for another explosion. This Jaime, or one of his men, slipped in at the back, seized the girl, and got clear off with her. Lad, it's a real bad business."
Jim held to the rails of the station. His head swam; he felt giddy, while the beating of his heart was almost painful. He was utterly unmanned for the moment. He, Jim Partington, who had faced so many dangers smiling, was utterly prostrated by the news imparted to him. Then, like the brave fellow he was, he threw off the feeling of weakness with a sharp shrug of his shoulders, and in a moment became his old self, cool and self-possessed, as he asked shrewd questions shortly and sharply.
"You will follow, of course?" he asked the Major.
"You can guess so. This time nothing shall turn me back."
"Then I can come?"
"Glad indeed to have you, my boy. We'll move the instant we get information. I've men making enquiries down at the port, while your negro, Sam, has gone off with a lantern. Better start on the right track than start early. Let's get in and have some supper."
It was one of the most anxious meals Jim had ever attended. He was eager to set out in search of his sister, but realized all the time that a wrong start might be productive of great delay and failure.
"But Sam will hit their marks if anyone can," he told himself. "Then I'll follow wherever the tracks lead. Sadie shall not stay in that man's hands an instant longer than I can help it. And if I catch that Jaime and his fellows——!"
His fingers came together; his two hands were clenched beneath the table. At that precise moment good-natured Jim felt that he was capable of anything.