Part 13 (1/2)

Was Jim game? He laughed at the officer's caution.

”See here, sir,” he said with a smile, ”guess I'm not one of the police, and thief catching isn't in my work, but I've a personal stake here. If this man ain't apprehended I stand to be shot at any time. Besides, every American citizen wants to help the police. It's a duty; of course I'm game.”

CHAPTER VIII

In Hot Pursuit

”From information received, a small steam launch put out from the Bay of Limon at the first streak of dawn, and steamed towards the east,” said Major Pelton, the police officer who had interrogated Jim at night, putting on his most official voice for the occasion. ”It was not hired; it was seized by a couple of men. They found the boat lying alongside the staging, ready to take a party out to a hulk we have lying off the coast. They stole her.”

”Proof positive that they are the men we are after,” ventured Jim, throwing himself back in the well of the little motor launch in which he and his comrades found themselves.

”It's sartin',” came from Sam, his eyes s.h.i.+ning brightly, as was usual when he was at all excited.

”Precisely; proof positive, as you say. The useful Sam tracked the man's steps to your quarters from that hut. Then back again, and finally, after a detour in some scrub, where no doubt he remained hidden with his comrade, straight down to Port Limon. We are on the right track; but it will be difficult to adhere to it.”

The officer glanced round at the occupants of the launch, and found little to encourage him. True, provided his party could come up with the escaped criminals, it was highly probable that they would be taken; for the handsome launch with which the American Ca.n.a.l Commission had provided its Colon people carried, besides the officer and Jim, three members of the Colon police force, fully armed, as well as Tom, Sam, and Ching.

”You had better bring them all along,” the Major had said, when discussing the matter. ”Tom is a l.u.s.ty fellow, and evidently full of pluck, while Sam is a first-cla.s.s tracker. Some of those negroes one gets from the southern States are extremely quick and skilful, and he is amongst them. Ching, you say, is a good cook.”

”Cookee fo ebelybody, sah; make de stew, boil de kettle. Plenty good cookee Ching makee,” had been the response of the wily Chinee when he heard of the proposition.

So it turned out that all the friends were together again, armed with rifles on this occasion, and aboard a fine motor launch.

”Thirty horse-power, gasolene motor,” explained the Major. ”There's not another craft in these waters which can outstrip her. In fact, if only we can trace those ruffians, we shall have them nicely. Now, sir, you've had to do with motors; can you manage for us?”

Fortunately a gasolene motor was one of those things which had always attracted our hero from the first moment he had been able to comprehend its action; and it chanced, seeing that much of his time had been spent in seaports, or closely adjacent thereto, he had had many opportunities of studying the marine variety. Immediately he put foot aboard this launch he had stooped over the half-covered-in engine, and had examined it with a friendly and observant eye.

”Yes,” he responded instantly, his eye brightening; ”yes, Major, I can run her, I guess. Thirty horse-power! I reckon we shall move along quick. What about gasolene store?”

”Ample aboard. Her tanks are full; I saw to that at the first moment.

She has been handed over to us fully equipped, with rations aboard sufficient for a week. I had only to collect men and ammunition. Now, sir.”

Jim had already started his engine, and at the word he pushed over his gear lever, r.e.t.a.r.ded the engine a little, and sent the boat gently heading out to sea.

”Due east,” said the Major.

”Due east it is, sir,” responded Jim promptly.

”And run up alongside any boat you may see in our course. We must make every enquiry.”

It was a sensible plan to pursue, for all that the party was sure of was the fact that the miscreants they were in search of had steamed out to sea from the Bay of Limon, and had taken an easterly course. Beyond that fact there was nothing to direct them. Nor were they fortunate in obtaining information till late that afternoon, when they sighted a coaster lazily sailing parallel with the low-lying, muddy sh.o.r.e.

”Have I seed anything of a steam launch hereabouts?” repeated the skipper, a typical Yankee, waddling to the rail of his boat as the launch came alongside. ”See here, siree, I observed a launch jest sich as you ask fer steaming easy along the coast twenty mile back of this.

She was kinder heading in to find a port. There's lagoons way long there, and, mebbe she's got right into one of 'em. You don't happen to be wantin' the folks aboard?”

He c.o.c.ked his eye in a knowing wink, and regarded the uniform of the policeman.

”I reckon not,” he continued garrulously. ”But ef you was--only ef you actually was wantin' 'em--why, I'd get peepin' in at every little hollow with that 'ere queer craft of yourn. Say, what are she? Gasolene?”