Young Hunters in Porto Rico: or, The Search for a Lost Treasure

"No, we don't like it, not by a jugful. You give us real chicken."

"Dis chicken – good chicken."

"It's a slaughtered fowl from one o' yer cockfights," roared old Jacob. "Like ez not, he's pizened from the other bird's cuts. Oh, I know all on ye do nothing but look at cock-fighting day in an' day out, much to yer discredit. We want good chicken, understand?"

"Yes. Señor shall have good chicken," growled the Spaniard; and inwardly very angry, but not daring to show it before so many strangers, he took the gamecock and passed into the kitchen with it.

"He'll make you eat it if he can," observed Leander. "He's mad clear through, I can see that."

"I'm going to watch him, lad, until the meal is on the table," replied old Jacob; and this he did, and made certain that they got a chicken which was caught and killed for that purpose. Cock-fighting is a national sport in Porto Rico, and it is a great trick to work off the slain fowls on anybody who does not know the difference, the natives rarely eating their fallen champions.

When supper was served it was by no means a bad meal, although all of the party had eaten better. It consisted of chicken, rice cakes, fried sweet potatoes, baked bananas, and bread and jelly, with strong native coffee. As they ate, the host sat by, but said nothing to them.

"We may as well retire early," observed Robert Menden. "We want to reach the vicinity of the caves by to-morrow."

"Did you ask the landlord about the caves?" queried Don.

"I mentioned them in an off-hand way, but he said he knew nothing about them." And this, let me add, is not strange, for it is but lately that the caves have become known to the great majority of people.

"We don't want to let anybody suspect our mission here," put in Bob. "They might follow and rob us, you know."

"Thet's it," added old Jacob. "As long as we know about where the caves are, ye had better keep yer trap closed. I allers found thet it paid not to talk too much in a strange country."

Robert Menden had his written description of the caves with him, and before retiring, all hands pored over this, hoping by it to gain some clew concerning the box with the initials, M. M. M.

The rain continued to come down, but it did not lightning and thunder, and the gentle patter-patter on the roof acted as a lullaby to the tired boys, everyone of whom went sound asleep in short order. Then Robert Menden and old Jacob dropped off, and all became quiet in the two rooms which the party occupied.

How long he slept Don did not know. But he awoke with a start and sat up, not knowing what had aroused him.

The room was in semi-darkness, the smoky lamp being turned down low. All of the others were sleeping soundly.

"Dick!" he cried softly, but there was no reply from his chum.

"Bob! Leander!" he continued after a long pause. Still no answer, saving a long snore from Bob, as he turned over restlessly.

"It's mighty queer what woke me up," thought the boy. He usually slept well.

He dropped back on the bed and tried to go to sleep again.

But the effort was a failure, and though he lay back with his eyes tightly closed, he was as wide-awake as before.

Then, of a sudden, although he heard nothing, a peculiar sensation stole over him, and he became convinced that some stranger was in the apartment!

CHAPTER XIV

THE MAN IN THE ROOM

Don shivered, but said nothing.

He felt positive that he was right – that somebody was moving around the room – yet so far he had not heard a sound.

"Can it be the landlord?" he asked himself. "If it is, what is he doing here?"

The bed in which the boy rested was turned in such a fashion that he could see but a small portion of the apartment in his present position.

As noiselessly as he could, he shifted about until the entire room was within his range of vision.

He was just in time to behold a shadow cross the doorsill and glide into the next apartment, where Robert Menden, old Jacob and Danny were sleeping.

Then a slight puff of air came in at one of the windows, extinguishing the smoky lamp and leaving all in total darkness.

"Wake up, all of you!" cried Don, at the top of his lungs. "Somebody is here who doesn't belong here!"

At his cry one after another leaped up.

"What's thet?" demanded old Jacob.

"Somebody just entered your room."

"There he goes – out of the window!" ejaculated Robert Menden, and ran toward the spot, only to stumble over a chair and stub his toe so severely that he set up a howl of pain.

Old Jacob turned quickly enough to see the man's head as he swung from the window-sill to the ground below, a distance of less than twelve feet. In the darkness he saw the fellow, a native, rush away at top speed.

"Stop, ye villain!" he roared. "Stop, or I'll fire!" Then he ran to his bed to get his revolver, which had been placed under his pillow, but by the time he reached the window again the midnight marauder had disappeared into a wood opposite the inn.

"He must have entered the rooms for the purpose of robbing us," said Dick. "Let us light the lamp and see if anything is missing."

A match was struck and the lamp turned up as high as possible, and then they began an examination of their clothing and bundles. Only one set of trouser-pockets had been cleaned out – those belonging to Bob, who had lost a good knife, a bunch of keys and a couple of dollars in Spanish small change. Nothing else had been disturbed.

"Don scared him off," said Dick. "Otherwise he would have gone through every pocket and package in the two rooms," and the others agreed with him.

"I'd like to catch the rascal," grumbled Bob. "That knife was a prize one and I don't want to lose it – nor the money neither."

"We would have a job tracking that thief in this storm," answered Robert Menden. "Let us be thankful the matter is no worse, and be more on our guard in the future."

The noise in the rooms had awakened the landlord of the inn and he now knocked on the door, demanding what was the matter. He drew down the corners of his mouth when told.

"The Porto Rico brigands, señors," he said. "Be glad they no knife you!" and he shivered.

"Perhaps," said old Jacob, laconically. "But maybe you are in with them," he muttered to himself, as he turned away. The gamecock episode still hung in his mind, and certainly the landlord's general appearance was much against him.

For the balance of the night one or another of the party was awake, and it was decided that in the future they should take turns on the watch, just as had been done on the yacht.

In the morning they had breakfast very early, having contracted for this beforehand. Had they not done so, nobody at the inn would have stirred before eight o'clock, and breakfast would not have been on the table until nine or ten. To many living in Porto Rico time seems to be of little value. Almost all of the business is done between ten and twelve o'clock in the morning, and after that the shopkeeper locks up his place and takes a nap until four or five o'clock, opening up again in the evening, which is really the busiest part of the whole twenty-four hours.

The storm had cleared off and now the atmosphere was sultry and oppressive, the evaporations from the forests going up like clouds of steam.

"Phew! this is going to be a corker!" exclaimed Dick, as he mopped the perspiration from his brow. They had covered less than two miles, and yet he felt completely dragged out.