Boy Scouts in the Canal Zone: or, The Plot Against Uncle Sam

“Yes, the hatred he has for me is so great that he would take any advantage of me.”

Jimmie was getting the notion that there was something tragic in the air, and was even considering the proposition seriously when there was a movement at the open doorway.

“If he comes here,” Gaga went on, “you must either kill him yourself or let me. He will spare neither of us.”

The boy was listening for a repetition of the sound at the doorway, when a form lifted from the crumbling threshold and stood peering in. Gaga gave a cry of terror and the intruder drew back for an instant.

The boy knew that the man whose figure he had seen outlined against the star-sprinkled sky was the man he had seen standing by the couch of the owner of the Daily Planet on the night of the robbery, the man he had seen later in the Chester camp in the jungle.

“For the love of Heaven!” the prisoner whispered.

The entreaty struck home to the heart of the boy. He had always prided himself on his love of fair play. He knew that he could not successfully defend the doorless, windowless room until the arrival of his friends, or the return of the plotters. Pedro could hide in the thicket and rain bullets upon himself and the prisoner until both were killed.

He could not make his own escape and leave the prisoner bound and at the mercy of his enemy, nor could he shoot the intruder in cold blood when he appeared in the doorway again. He was only a boy, and his inherent love of a square deal conquered.

While the movements at the door continued, he slipped over to Gaga, ran his knife through the cords which bound him, pointed to the weapons which had been taken from him, and crouched down in a corner of the room, his heart beating like a trip-hammer.

CHAPTER XIX.

A GUARDIAN NEEDING GUARDING

Little realizing the danger in which Jimmie had been left, Ned made what speed he could to Gamboa and there looked about for some means of reaching Culebra without delay. It seemed important that he should reach the other members of his party as soon as possible and send one of the boys back to keep watch with Jimmie.

Besides, it was his intention to communicate with Lieutenant Gordon immediately. He did not expect the lieutenant to call out a squad of secret service men and place the big dam under guard. That, he reasoned, would defeat his plans for rounding up the plotters. However, it was his duty to report progress to the officer and consult with him concerning future movements.

At Gamboa he found a telephone and called the Tivoli at Ancon, but, to his disgust, Lieutenant Gordon could not be found. He tried the offices of several engineers and canal officials with no better result. At last, exhibiting a secret service badge which had been given him by the lieutenant, he mounted an engine about to leave for Culebra and was soon in that beautiful city.

The boys were at the hotel where he had left them, having declined the repeated offers of hospitality by Mr. Chester, and Tony was with them. A session was at once held in a private room, and Jack Bosworth and Harry Stevens jumped at the chance to load themselves with provisions and travel back to the stone house east of Gamboa. They were given the needed directions and sent away with a note to an officer of the railroad, who, it may be as well to state here, landed them at Gamboa in quick time and without asking any questions.

After the boys had taken their departure Frank Shaw called Ned aside.

“There’s something doing here to-night,” he said. “Mr. Chester came out of the parlor as red as a lobster, about six o’clock, and I guess he had a fight with a couple of Japs, Gostel and another chap I’ve never seen before. They parted courteously, but I could see that Tony’s father was angry clear through. After he had gone back to his camp, or started for it, the Japs got a little crowd of gabbers about them and set off down the road toward Colon. They seemed mighty pleased over something, and I guess they’re going to start something to-night.”

“And the other man, this Col. Van Ellis. Did he come here with Chester?”

“Oh, yes; he was here, but I took good care that he did not see me. I think he went away with Chester. They were both very angry.”

“Angry at the Japanese?”

“Yes; anyway, they disagreed over something. But while the two white men were angry, the Japs seemed pleased. I’ll tell you what I think, Ned. The Japs are up to something the others do not like.”

Ned was beginning to see a great light. Once before, since seeing Gostel, he had studied out the problem of the sincerity of the man, and had reached the conclusion that he was using Chester – perhaps others – for some sinister purpose of his own. Now he thought he saw the plot in its true light. However, he did not communicate his thoughts to the others. Had Gordon been at hand he would have confided the story to him. But Gordon was not at the Tivoli at Ancon and no one seemed to know where he was, so he was obliged to go ahead and exercise his own best judgment.

“What’s doing to-night?” Glen Howard asked, when Ned and Frank returned to the room where the other boys were seated.

“We’re going to Gatun,” was the reply. “We’re going on a special engine, and we’re to leave the tracks in the outskirts and get down to the dam.”

“Why, this is not the night,” Frank said, surprised.

“The date on the drawings was that of to-morrow, Saturday,” said Glen. “This is Friday. Of course you know what you are doing, but I wouldn’t take any chances on flushing the game.”

“What is it all about?” demanded Tony Chester. “There seems to be something in the air to-night. Father went away in a grouch and told me to remain with you boys, and Gastong is wandering about the city in a half-distracted manner. If you go to Gatun may I go with you?”

Ned pondered a moment before replying. There was in his mind the thought that this boy might work a miracle for his father. He saw one chance for saving Chester from the results of his connection with the plotters, and resolved to take it, risky to his plans though it was.

“No,” he said, in a moment, “you are to go to your camp with a note for your father. After you deliver the note, you are to come back here and remain until you hear from me. If your father comes with you, so much the better.”

“Will he tell me what is in the note – why he comes back to the city?”

“I don’t think so,” was the reply. “If he does come, tell him to remain close to a ’phone, here, for I may want to talk with him.”

“I can’t understand what all this mystery is about,” Tony exclaimed.

“When did you see Gastong last?” asked Ned.

“Oh, about half an hour ago. He was in the hotel then, flying around like a hen minus her head. He asked for you, and said he’d be in the buffet when you came.”

Ned lost no time in getting to the buffet, where he found Gastong, sitting in conversation with a trampish-looking fellow who seemed to be somewhat under the influence of liquor. He beckoned to Ned when he entered the room and made room for him on the leather rest at his side.

“This is Tommy, the cook,” he said, when Ned was seated. “Your cook.”

“You ought to join the force,” laughed Ned. “I never would have known you.”

“Lieutenant Gordon told me to keep watch of you boys,” laughed Tommy, “but I reckon you’re doing pretty well for yourselves.”

“You are a secret service man?” asked Ned, satisfied now that Gordon had indeed thought it necessary to keep them all under surveillance.

“Of course,” replied Tommy. “I’m not much of a cook. I guess you found that out up at the camp.”

“It was thoughtful of the lieutenant,” Ned said, “but, as you say, we seem to be getting on very well. Do you happen to know where Gordon is at the present moment?”

“He was to meet me here,” was the reply, “but has not shown up.”

“It is dollars to apples,” said Gastong, “that the Japs have cornered him. He told me, on the night you went after the bomb-man, that some one was sleuthing him.”

“I didn’t know that you knew him,” Ned said, wondering if every person he had come upon since arriving on the Isthmus was in the secret service.

“Well,” said Gastong, “Lieutenant Gordon was on the squad here, you know, before he went to Mexico, and I used to meet him now and then.”

“And he told you, on the first night of our arrival at camp, that we might need looking after?”

“Well, he told me that it would do no harm to let him know if I saw a mob of New York boys wandering about the works,” laughed Gastong.

“So that is how you happened to be patrolling the Culebra cut in a motor car on the day the boys ran into Col. Van Ellis at the old house?”

“Well,” said Gastong, “Tommy, here, kept me posted in a way, and I thought I might be useful out that direction.”

“It was clever of the lieutenant,” laughed Ned. “Suppose you now turn your attention to him? He may need the help of the Boy Scouts to get out of a hole himself.”