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The Marines Have Landed Part 35

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Soon the clatter of hoofs and the shouts of men greeted their ears, and they came galloping up the road.

"Seem to be in a big hurry, all of a sudden," mused d.i.c.k as he peeped through the green branches at their approach.

With the completion of his thought the blood in his veins seemed to congeal, for the black horse which he rode, hearing the oncoming troop, p.r.i.c.ked his ears, and then before d.i.c.k had time to grab the quivering nostrils to prevent it a loud ear-splitting neigh filled the silent wood with its tell-tale message.

CHAPTER XXIII

d.i.c.k MAKES A FLYING LEAP

Too late the boy's firm fingers closed upon the nose of the black horse, and fearing a repet.i.tion of the alarm d.i.c.k pinched for dear life, meanwhile peering apprehensively through the surrounding ma.s.s of green foliage. To his mystification the road was clear of any living soul.

Turning anxiously to question the Indian, he caught him in the midst of choking back an amused chuckle. Not understanding the situation, and believing the guide was suffering from a stroke of apoplexy, d.i.c.k began to pound him vigorously on the back.

"Bastante, bastante![#] I am not choking," exclaimed Tomas as soon as he was able to stop his fit of laughter. "Pardon me, my friend; I expected your horse to send out his challenge, but I knew those in the road would never hear it. They were too noisy themselves. In consequence, I could not refrain from a little enjoyment at your expense."

[#] Bastante--Spanish for "enough."

"You mean to say they did not hear at all this black fog-horn-fourteen-inch-double-barreled-siren-and-bra.s.s-band all rolled into one? Why! It was enough to awaken the dead. Boy! but it sure made me sweat," and d.i.c.k wiped the beads of perspiration from his forehead.

"They heard nothing, Senor, and at the rate they were going they are well on their way by now."

"Then, Tomas, let us make haste to get that paper," and without further words they turned their horses' heads in the direction of the cone-like hill. On arriving at the point where those before them had left their horses d.i.c.k, dismounting and leaving Tomas in charge, climbed the remaining distance alone.

At the top of the hill he saw the dying remnants of the scattered fire, and then with a glad cry he sprang forward to pick up a crumpled ball of paper lying dangerously close to a glowing ember.

Seating himself he smoothed out the sheets. Upon one was a rude sketch in ink; the other was filled with writing in Spanish. Feverishly he translated it aloud.

"Senor: Everything is prepared, and when I see your smoke signals I will know the exact hour to spring my surprise. The rock is in position to roll on the track at the curve marked X, where the arrow points.

Crushed beneath it, as if accidentally by his own carelessness, will be the body of a Federalista, a close friend of the President. In his pockets will be found the papers proving conclusively that the Federals planned to wreck the American train. Even the money paid for the work will be in the dead man's pocket, untouched. If the train arrives at the spot in the night, our scheme cannot fail. If by day, and it should be discovered in time to prevent a bad accident, the proof will be there anyway, and the northern meddlers must then believe Diaz and his adherents are implicated. Viva el Republic! Viva Mena!

"CANDIDO.

"P.S. My men have driven away those peons who fill the tender with fuel at the wood pile south of Mateare, and that will cause more delay."

Having finished the letter, d.i.c.k studied the map, but it was so inaccurate and he was so little acquainted with the country that he gleaned no real information from it. He believed that the curves depicted represented the tortuous stretch of rail a few kilometers north of Managua. There the road turned and twisted through a group of hills, and in many places the sides of the cuts were lined with rocks of great size and weight. Often these had been loosed in the past, either by natural causes or otherwise, and, falling into the right of way, caused many serious accidents. Perhaps Tomas would be able to recognize the spot, and d.i.c.k ran down the hill to question the waiting soldier.

"Here, Tomas, read this aloud to me," he demanded, thrusting the letter into the guide's hands. The reading proved that d.i.c.k's opportunities for learning the Spanish tongue had been used to good advantage.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Map Showing Position of Rock and Track]

NOTE:--1. This map is very inaccurate, but nevertheless is clear enough to designate the position of the rock and track.

2. The meaning of the Spanish words is as follows: Lago de Managua=*Lake of Managua*. Ferrocarril=*railroad*. Aqui--_here_.

Montes=*mountains*. Camino=*road*.

"I know the exact place, Senor," said Tomas, and his features reflected d.i.c.k's own excitement. "It is one hour's hard riding from here, and Senor, look! There is the train pulling away from the filling station now. You may know it to be so because of the trail of black smoke. We can never reach the spot before the train. We are too late, and soon it will be dark and we cannot then ride as fast."

"We must make the trial," said d.i.c.k, mounting his restive steed. "Come, lead the way. Do not spare the horses now," and with the Indian in advance they were soon clattering down the hill at breakneck speed. On reaching the road the Indian, bending low in the saddle, for the first time touched his horse with the spur, and the splendid animal responded to the unaccustomed punishment as if shot from a catapult.

Side by side the two sped along the roadway towards their distant goal.

Again the rails and track ran parallel and Tomas, taking advantage of his knowledge of short cuts, turned from the highway and led the chase along the narrow trail beside the tracks, never once stopping the fearful speed of his mount.

Suddenly from behind them came the long wailing whistle of a locomotive.

Glancing over his shoulder d.i.c.k saw a few hundred yards behind a fast approaching train. This could not be the troop train, he was sure.

Once more he heard the whistle warning him to get clear of the track.

"Tomas," he called, but the Indian gave no sign of having heard his cry.

Another look behind showed the train rus.h.i.+ng on with no slackening of speed. Still Tomas continued in his mad flight. d.i.c.k tried to swerve his horse from the trail beside the track, fearing that when the train overtook them the animal might become frightened and dash against the side of the train; but now the black horse was infected with the fighting spirit, and so long as the bay horse in the lead was ahead just so long would he keep up the heart-breaking run. d.i.c.k could feel the powerful muscles beneath him working with the smoothness of well-oiled machinery, and in spite of the enormous strides with which they covered the ground, he hardly rose from his saddle, so perfect was the action.

Then to d.i.c.k came a new thought. Unless the train ahead was delayed he never could hope to reach the danger point in time to warn the troops.

He knew his attempt was futile, so why continue! This train now thundering along so close behind might catch up with and stop the artillery train. But how could he let those on board know of the danger?

To attempt to flag the train was useless now. Had he thought of it before it might have been possible, but it was not very likely, under the most favorable conditions, that they would stop on the signal of two lone and unrecognized hors.e.m.e.n alongside the track. Should he attempt to interfere with its progress, the chances were that the train guard--men from his own corps, possibly his own company, would shoot him as a suspiciously acting native: "shoot first and inquire after," was a fundamental principle in these treacherous revolutionists.

His mind, naturally active in summing up situations in their true light in times of stress, and quick to formulate his plans, saw only one way left open to him. He must board the moving train. He must make the leap from his saddle in some way, grasp hand-guard, brake, door, window or sash, and hang there until those on the train could pull him to safety.

Even as he made his resolve the engine, foot by foot, was gliding ahead of him. From the cab window the engineer, a sailor from one of the s.h.i.+ps of the Navy, watched with deepest interest what he believed was a vain race between two "loco Spigs"[#] and the train, and turning to his grimy fireman he ordered him to keep up the steam pressure at all costs and "Durn the expense."

[#] Loco--Spanish for "foolish."

That the horses could keep up their terrific speed for any length of time was out of the question. The Indian's horse appeared to have taken matters in his own hands and was running away, though Tomas was now doing his best to hold in the excited brute.

Now the tender and the first car had pa.s.sed d.i.c.k. Another quick glance from the corner of his eye and he saw there were but three more cars in the train, and when his eye returned to the narrow trail he saw it gradually drawing away from the rails. Unless it returned beside the track within the next few rods his last opportunity would be gone.

On the train every window was filled with excited faces watching this uneven race between G.o.d-made and man-made power, but they tried to encourage the riders with shouts and yells and much waving of hats and hands. d.i.c.k heard and saw the "rooters," but beneath his cap there was no change of expression; his face was white and stern with a bulldog tenacity of purpose.

Now the second car had drawn past him, and the middle of the third car drew opposite the straining horse. Would the trail never get nearer?

Must he in a last desperate endeavor pull with all his might on the left rein and cross the rough ground in order to bring the laboring animal against the side of the cars? If he did it meant almost certain destruction.

Now the fourth car appeared, nosing forward on his flank, yet he dared not take his eye from the trail. Must he leave it and make the dash across the rough uneven s.p.a.ce? He would wait just a few strides more.

Then once again he found the narrow path converging towards the tracks.

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The Marines Have Landed Part 35 summary

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