Dan Merrithew Part 13

"Too late, too late!" exclaimed Mr. Howland. "All this trouble and danger for nothing! Now we are caught! But some one will pay--"

His daughter seized his arm.

"Father! Oh, father! We are not stopping. Look!"

It was true. The _Tampico_ was not stopping; she swept on as if endowed throughout all her length of great black hull with her master's burning energy and fierce resolve to succeed. A sharp cry came from the gun-boat, a cry sharply in contrast with its crew's former yells of triumph. There came another six-pounder sh.e.l.l, this time cutting cleanly through the Tampico's bow. But that was the last. On, on like an avenging sea-monster swept the _Tampico_, sullen, silent, with the potential energy of dynamite lurking in the force of her momentum. And straight, inexorable, Captain Merrithew stood on the bridge with his hands on the wheel spokes. No longer was he young in the eyes of Virginia Howland. No, he was old, old as the avenging ages and as cruel, as cold as the march of time. Straight he made for the pretty white side of the gun-boat, as some grim executioner might measure for the blow of the sword which was to sever the white neck of some captive maid, some Joan of Arc. And the girl caught his spirit and became cruel too. She laughed at the gun-boat, as she fired again; she laughed as the _Tampico_ quivered and went to the heart of the quarry; she laughed as Dan, with another twist of the wheel, made more sure of his victim.

The screw of the gun-boat revolved desperately. She was backing; but it was too late. Another sound now! A heaving swell rose in between and threw the bow of the steams.h.i.+p slightly off. With an angry cry Dan jerked at the wheel. But the lost point could not be regained, and the _Tampico_, instead of hitting the gun-boat amids.h.i.+ps and cutting her in two as intended, struck the quarter obliquely, slicing off a triangle of the hull and stern as a big knife cuts a cheese.

There was a terrible crash and grinding, shrill screams, with the sharp, taunting laughter of Dan ringing clear, as his vessel swept clear of the wreckage, flas.h.i.+ng by the crowded small boats which had been lowered a few seconds before the crash came. Hardly knowing what she was doing, utterly beside herself, Virginia turned to her friends, her lips parted, her eyes flas.h.i.+ng.

"There!" she cried, "did you ever see a man? I recommend you to look at Captain Merrithew--"

"Yes, Virginia, it was bully." Oddington's cool, thoroughbred manner chilled her ardor like a cold blast. "It was mighty fine. You are excited, girl." And the young man removed the cigarette which had been between his lips. Virginia regarded him steadily.

"You are right, Ralph," she said at length; "I was excited."

In the meantime, the _Tampico_ was das.h.i.+ng into the harbor at full speed, her whistle blowing like mad, bringing all officialdom, including the _Presidente_, to the water front; for, as Mr. Howland had said, they were expected. Soldiers from the guard-boats swarmed aboard and took the rebel admiral and his fellow-officers ash.o.r.e, and a few hours later well set-up mercenaries were dragging Mr. Howland's machine guns and eight-inch rifles from the quay to strategic points, where in the morning the insurrection would be broken as a strong man breaks a rattan cane.

Later, at the end of a sunrise collation, _Presidente_ Rodriguez rose and, with one hand on his heart and the other clutching the stem of a wine gla.s.s, metaphorically presented the keys of San Blanco to the "Saviour of his country," and intimated not only a permanent suspension of tariff regulations in his favor, but a future statue of heroic size in the palace plaza. Whereat Mr. Howland turned swiftly to Dan at his side, and from behind his napkin momentarily altered an expression of beatific if humble grat.i.tude, and winked almost grotesquely.

CHAPTER IX

AN ATTEMPTED a.s.sa.s.sINATION

The next morning Dan stood at the rail of the _Tampico_, gazing out over the quay to the distant walls of the city, over which hung a heavy saffron pall. The faint pat-a-pat-pat-pat of machine guns and the roar of heavier ordnance was incessant. At first he had been disposed to go out and partic.i.p.ate in the fighting.

But second thought had altered his inclination. He had come to know something of the business methods of Mr. Howland and men like him; and while he had no doubt that his employer considered them legitimate, and could, if he had to, submit many strong reasons for various measures which capital seems to find it necessary to employ in its relations with Latin-American Governments, yet he decided that the wholesale slaughter then in progress had far better be left to those who were employed for that purpose.

How did he know but the men who had been fighting to capture the city and were now being shot down like sheep were not the real patriots, anxious to govern their own country in their way and not in the interests of foreign corporations? As for Rodriguez, he knew enough of him to--

Virginia Howland, coming up from behind, touched him on the arm, while her father, who followed her, placed his hand on Dan's shoulder.

"Captain," said the girl, "I am disappointed. I wagered a box of candy with father that you were already out fighting."

Dan, unable to suppress the thoughts which had filled his mind, smiled grimly.

"I don't think I have any desire to turn butcher," he said, with just a tinge of bitterness.

The girl flushed and regarded Dan for a moment with a curious expression, and then glanced at her father.

"Is it really--that?" she said.

Mr. Howland smiled easily.

"Butchery? It seems to amount to about that. Poor beggars! But war is war," Mr. Howland tapped the rail with his finger by way of emphasis, "and those who attempt to overthrow governments generally do either one of two things: they succeed, or they pay the penalty of failure."

"In this case," said Dan, coolly, "they seem to be paying the penalty."

"Yes, thanks to you," replied Mr. Howland, "which is what I wish to speak to you about."

He paused, and as Dan made no reply he continued:

"You did a mighty fine piece of work for us in landing those guns--you have placed my company considerably in debt to you; but of that more later. At the present time I want to tell you that these infernal revolutionists have burned Belle View--which," turning to his daughter, "may alter your sympathies a trifle, Virginia--and therefore necessitates more or less of a change of programme--"

"Belle View burned!" interpolated Virginia. "Why, father, what--"

"As I was saying," resumed Mr. Howland, "we've got to s.h.i.+ft things about. In the first place, if Belle View were not burned, I should hardly feel safe in having the crowd there with conditions as they are--and things are not especially pleasant in this city.

However,--how long will it take to get away from here, Captain?"

"We must take on some coal, and Hendrickson has drawn the fires and is reaming in some new boiler-tubes. We could get away inside of forty-eight hours, I think."

"Good; let's do it, then. We'll call at San Domingo, Hayti, Jamaica, and other places to make up for spoiling your house-party, Virginia.

In the meantime I have secured good quarters for our guests at the Hotel Garcia, where to-night I give the Government a dinner. I shall expect to see you there, Captain."

Dan would have preferred to stay away from that dinner. The thought of his practical connivance at the day's slaughter, so obviously suggested by Mr. Howland, grated on him, and the implied command in the invitation to the dinner bothered him too. The day was to be filled with duties about s.h.i.+p, and he wanted the evening to himself, to sit in his cabin with his pipe and his books and mull over these and other things.

Of course he might have known what would follow the landing of the guns from the _Tampico_. He did know, as a matter of fact, but orders are orders, and duty is duty; and when you are employed by a man you accept your salary and any other accruing benefits solely upon the understanding that you shall serve his interests to the best of your ability.

Yes, Dan could see that perfectly, and he could also see the bad taste that lay in intimating dissatisfaction with his employer's methods while wearing the uniform of Mr. Howland's company and receiving good pay therefor. And anyway, Mr. Howland had not asked him to cut Blancan wars.h.i.+ps in two and endanger the lives of the entire s.h.i.+p's company and guests. No, that was on his own head, his own hot head.

In the days of the present voyage he had felt a strong tendency to look beyond the bridge of the _Tampico_ into the future. Of course he liked adventure, but of late he had begun to feel that perhaps he had had enough of the strenuous life to last him the remainder of his years.

He certainly did not intend to grow gray on coastwise lines. Bluff, gnarled old Harrison, his predecessor on this vessel, had served as a striking object lesson. He could spin yarns of his adventures by the hour, but at best no one would call him anything but an interesting old character, a retired sh.e.l.l-back on half pay. Dan found no pleasure in looking forward to anything of the sort.

Since he had gained a command in the famous Coastwise and West Indian s.h.i.+pping Company, he had begun to commend himself to persons who never before had played a part in his life, princ.i.p.ally a cousin of his father's, a wealthy merchant of Boston, who had written him a long letter, received just before the _Tampico_ sailed on her present voyage, expressing a desire to meet him.

"It is not possible," the letter read, "you will want to follow the sea all your life. There must be plenty of opportunities ash.o.r.e for men of your evident executive ability and initiative. I want you to come to Boston at your first opportunity. I know I can give you good advice, and it may be I can prove of material a.s.sistance to you."

When he first read the letter, Dan smiled to himself, not failing to note the interest taken in him by relatives, now he seemed to be proving his ability, who, heretofore, had known little about him and cared less. But that is life, and he had a great deal rather be accepted for what he had done than because of mere ties of blood. Thus thinking, he came to attach greater significance to the letter. He would go on to Boston when the _Tampico_ returned to the United States.

In the meantime he was Captain of a Howland boat, and he would obey orders, he smiled grimly, and go to the dinner.

The dinner was a memorable one in San Blanco City. The revolution had been shattered. The Rodriguez Government was supreme. The _Presidente's_ palace was a blaze of lights. Conspirators were being arrested and cast into prison. Vehicles of all sorts were bearing dinner guests to the Hotel Garcia and das.h.i.+ng away. There were foreign consuls in uniforms, and their wives; there was Rodriguez and his cabinet, and officers of the army in resplendent garb, and women who, when they threw their mantillas aside, revealed tawny necks and shoulders.

The _Presidente_, Mr. Howland, and high officers of the Government sat on a long dais at the head of the room; the other guests, including the _Tampico's_ party, were at round tables with red-shaded lamps. It was a pleasing picture, and Dan, for the first few courses, was glad he had come. However, when he found that those with whom he was seated could not speak English, while he could understand little of Spanish, the evening began to wear. At length, with the long post-prandials at hand, he arose.

Flanking one side of the room, which was large, were windows reaching from the floor almost to the ceiling, which, when the weather was fair, were opened, giving access to a garden of small, twisted trees and tropical plants with small tables beneath, to which the pleasure-loving population came at night, to sip iced drinks and listen to the music of the orchestra as it flowed out of the dining-room.

Here Dan made his way and, stepping out of one of the windows, paused on the garden's edge. The cool air was grateful, and with a sigh of relief he drew a cigar from his pocket and lighted it slowly, From beneath the trees came little patters of conversation, and the red lights of cigarettes and the glint of white gowns enlivened the darkness.

As he stood there, Virginia Howland and Oddington came out of one of the windows. The girl was talking vivaciously, familiarly, and Oddington was laughing. She was in what she would have termed one of her "Oddington moods," when his personality appealed to her most, when the congenial bond seemed closest. To-night the lights, the music, the soft air rustling the lampshades, after all the long days on s.h.i.+pboard, exalted her. She looked at her companion with kindling eyes.

It seemed hardly the moment to run full upon the Captain of the _Tampico_, who had just thrown his cigar away with the intention of returning to the dining-hall.

Dan realized this instinctively. He smiled at the two in an abstracted manner, as though his mind were occupied with thoughts which he did not care to interrupt, and turned toward the window, when Virginia, who had greeted him simultaneously with a smile obviously designed to convey a similar impression, and, piqued to perversity by the fact that Dan had so readily interpreted her wishes, paused in the middle of a sentence and looked back over her shoulder.

"Captain," she said, "is it possible you prefer speeches in Spanish to our company?"