Part 9 (2/2)
”He stood outside there and stared in at us,” he said, putting the events as he guessed them. ”He c.o.c.ked his pistol, and we heard the noise. Then he fired as we got to the door. Queer, isn't it, Mr.
Phineas?”
”Queer! It's downright, cold-blooded attempt at murder!” shouted Phineas. ”Call those boys.”
But there was no need to summon them. Tom and Sam were already at the door, while Ching was in the pa.s.sage, a swaying lantern in his hand.
”What dat?” asked Tom, his eyes beginning to bulge. ”Someone fire a shot. Tom not like dat at all; he tink someone try to kill him.”
”Boys,” said Phineas, keeping perfectly cool, ”some scoundrel came to the window of the parlour and fired at Jim here. He missed him by an inch. We must follow and take the fellow, whoever he may be; it may be the work of a lunatic. Bring along that lamp, Ching.”
”One moment!” cried Jim. ”Best leave someone here in case the fellow returns. Tom, you look after the house. I can trust you to frighten anyone away. Sam and Ching will come with us. Sam, we want you to open those eyes of yours extra wide: that fellow must be followed. Now, are we ready? But first, has anyone seen a stranger about here to-day?”
”Seed a nasty-lookin' Spaniard, I did,” admitted Sam, his eyes s.h.i.+ning bright and eager in the lamplight. ”Him one of de crowd working on de ca.n.a.l I tink; but me recognize him. Same man aboard de steamer, sah; yo knock him down when he come for yo wid a knife. Yo go bang, squelch! Him flop over on to him back, den creep away growling out, and sayin' tings beneath him breath. Him nasty fellow altogether.”
”Then there is the motive for the crime,” declared Phineas at once.
”There is never any telling what some of these Southerners will do. No doubt, in the course of the fight aboard the s.h.i.+p, you knocked him down, though from the look of your face you evidently don't remember the matter. See here, Jim; let Tom go with you. I forgot that I have a broken arm, and am more likely to delay you; but I'll telephone down to the police headquarters in Colon, and put them on the watch. I suppose you'll follow?”
Jim nodded promptly. ”At once,” he said with decision. ”If I pa.s.sed the matter now, he would make a second attempt, and I don't much fancy that.
Sam's a splendid tracker, and if there's a mark he will be able to find it. Then come along, boys. Ching, bring the lamp; perhaps there's another we can have?”
It took but a few minutes to discover another lamp, then the party set out. Meanwhile the diminutive Sam, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm, had been moving swiftly about the house outside.
”Seen de footmarks, sah,” he said, as Jim came out to join him, with Tom and Ching in close attendance. ”Look, sah: he come up to de house by here, and hide under de veranda. Den he creep on to it. Dere de muddy boots make a mark. He stand at de window and shoot bang right through.
Plenty more mark outside. Soon find de villain.”
It had rained that evening, soon after the whistles had sounded for the men to cease work, and, since this side of the isthmus gets more than a fair share of wet weather, the ground is generally somewhat soft. In fact, it was just the place a criminal should not have selected, for it gave opportunities of tracking even to amateurs. But Sam was no amateur.
”When I live down south, often track de n.i.g.g.e.r,” he explained to Ching; whereat the lanky, thin Chinaman wagged his head, shaking his pigtail from side to side.
”Ob course not so easy, not at all, siree,” added Sam, an air of importance about him. ”Specially when dere so many mens about. But yo see, yo China boy; me soon come up wid dis fellow, and den skin um alive, cook um, see?”
He gritted his sharp teeth together, and in the lamplight looked particularly fierce. Indeed the jolly little fellow seemed to be transformed by the work so unexpectedly placed before him. He was desperately serious now, and eager to proceed with the quest.
”By de poker, but yo talk a heap!” exclaimed Tom, taking the lamp from Ching. ”Now yo, Sam, yo get to work quick. Me help, but not jaw; time to chatter when de man found.”
”Den yo follow here. See dis! He shoot through de window and den run. He jump from the veranda and come all ob a heap, so he did. Ha! Yo can see dat, eh? Eben a big, fat n.i.g.g.e.r same as you, Tom, can see dat?”
Tom wisely ignored the remark. He followed Sam's indicating finger, noticed that the dirt marks on the veranda were widely splayed out, as from the feet of a man who was in a hurry, and again saw them, together with a long, curling impression on the soil at the foot of the veranda, showing where the criminal's feet had slipped. Nor was that all. One could detect the spot where his hands had met the earth, together with a deeper mark where the muzzle of the revolver he had used had buried itself in the clay.
”Him sure enough, de blackguard!” growled Tom. ”Now den.”
Sam led them away from the house at a rattling pace, that caused Jim to marvel. But the little fellow was no fool at the art of tracking, while his eyes, usually so slothful in appearance, were now evidently very sharp and observant. And if our hero thought at times that he was being led on a wild-goose chase, Sam was always able to demonstrate that such was not the case at all.
”Yo tink me not on de track?” he asked, after a while, when they paused to gather their breath. ”Well, den, see here. De same marks all de while. Him run like a hare; him wonder if him followed. Soon we come to de house where him hide. Den look out for fireworks. Him shoot like mad.
Sam know de sort ob fellow.”
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