Part 27 (1/2)
”Then we have merely to arrange the parts for the others. Miguel sees to the horses. Our friend Alfonso, who made the arrangement with the boatman, will be with Miguel, and will light a flare above Gatun at seven in the evening, or sooner if he discovers that there is a commotion. The two will then go to the farm, take the horses, and ride towards Ancon. There is a spot at the bottom of a rocky hill, where the road sweeps sharply round into the valley. My friends, we have all been there before. It is there that we will meet when the work is finished.
Pedro and myself will take the money, then Pedro will carry it to the horses. But I ought to have said that Alfonso and Miguel will not ride towards Ancon with all the horses. They will leave three at the back of Gatun, at a spot we can arrange upon. There Pedro will take the money and load it on one of the horses. He will wait for me; I shall come, and then we will ride to the place of meeting.”
There were inquisitive glances thrown at the man by his comrades. The question of the seventh horse again occurred to them. Jaime smiled when he remarked their curiosity, and busily employed himself in rolling a cigarette. It pleased him to watch his comrades as they endeavoured to fathom his purpose.
”You ride to join Pedro after a while then?” queried the rascal Juan.
”What keeps you? Ah, I see it! A private grudge--that young fellow.”
Jaime nodded easily, and smiled openly upon them all. ”I have still some work to accomplish,” he said slowly. ”You would not ask me to leave this place allowing something to remain unfinished? Think for a moment. We were comfortable and content here till that young dog pried into our secrets. And what resulted? Three of us were arrested, and should have been hanged perhaps by now had we not broken out of prison. Two of our comrades were followed, and, though they were not killed, we have had news that they were badly wounded. In addition, our game here was spoiled for the time being. The officials locked their money up tighter than ever, so that we had to move elsewhere in order to earn a living.
But that is all changed now; we are getting even with the fellows.
Already we have caused them much trouble, and now we will skin them of every dollar, damage their works, and give this young dog such a lesson that he will never interfere again. Good! It is fine to feel that the day of reckoning has come at last. Juan, pa.s.s the bottle. With plans like these to act upon a man requires a fillip.”
Far into the night they sat discussing their rascally movements, and the following day found all but Jaime abroad and active. That very afternoon, in fact, Alfonso brought them information that a s.h.i.+p had come into Colon bearing specie for the officials, money with which to pay America's army of workmen.
”I watched it unloaded,” said the rascal, glee on his face. ”There were boxes of silver and a huge ma.s.s of notes; for of course wages are paid in paper. All the better for us, my friends. Paper is easy to carry, and is still valuable. They can publish the numbers of the stolen notes as much as they like, but still we can get value for them.”
”And the destination of these boxes?” asked Jaime anxiously.
Alfonso told him with pride. He had followed the consignment, and had seen it deposited at the door of one of the official offices. He had seen it carried in, and drew a plan of the building.
”Then to-night,” said Jaime, pulling at the inevitable cigarette. ”Juan has already gone across to Pedro Miguel. And you--you have made full arrangements with the boatman?”
”Full and complete; there will be no hitch to-night,” cried Alfonso, banging the table.
A stranger happening to take rail at Colon on this day would have been utterly astounded had he been informed that there was to be a commotion that very evening. For the trip along the whole length of the Panama Railway would have shown him armies of men and officials engaged methodically with their work. The busy scene of smoking steam diggers, of rock drills, and hustling spoil trains would have resolved itself finally, when his eye was at last accustomed to the vastness of it all, into a scene of order and method, into a gigantic undertaking which occupied the wits and strength of all whom he saw. He would at last have appreciated the fact that those vast works at Gatun, and between it and Limon Bay, had a direct connection with that enormous cutting which occupied the time of such an army of delvers at Culebra, though twenty odd miles separated the two, and that throughout the length of the Panama zone, stretching from north to south of the isthmus, the work undertaken by any one man had some special relation to that appointed to another. Moreover, that, in spite of distances, in spite of the fact that the undertaking seemed to be progressing piecemeal at widely separated intervals, yet each and every part was a portion of the whole, a necessary portion, where the work in hand was conducted with a hustle and method truly American, and with a swing which augured for success.
But of commotion there was not a sign. That traveller could not possibly have guessed that the evening had a disaster in store for the people who worked beneath his eye.
It was precisely half-past five on this special evening when a terrible explosion shook every one of the wooden buildings at Ancon, and caused the verandas at Gorgona to shake as if they would tumble. A vast flame seemed to leap into the air, there came a thunderous report, that went echoing down the Chagres valley, and then dust and debris obscured the sky in the direction of Pedro Miguel. The serene face of this portion of the zone, lit a second or so before by a wonderful moon, was obscured as if by the work of a volcano.
Instantly men poured out from the Commission hotels, and stood in the street of Ancon and the nearest settlement, asking what had happened.
”Guess it's the dynamite store gone off suddenly,” cried one, his hands deep in his pockets, a pipe in his mouth. ”Hope none of the boys ain't hurt, nor the works neither. It's been a bad blow-up anyway.”
It was an hour later before details filtered through, then, all along the line, it was learned that an attempt had been made to wreck the foundation of the lock at Pedro Miguel.
”Another of them anarchistic attempts,” growled one of the men. ”Guess this is too almighty queer fer anything. Here's spoil trains been sent runnin' down from the cut, and the same with diggers. Sleepers and suchlike laid on the rails in order to throw pa.s.senger trains off the metals, fires, and what not. This is the limit.”
”It's one of the most serious difficulties we have had to face, boys,”
said one of the ca.n.a.l officials, coming upon the group of men at that moment. ”I've just come along from the dock at Pedro Miguel, and there isn't a doubt that some rascal endeavoured to blow the whole place to pieces. It's Jim Partington's section, and he'd left everything safe and sound. There wasn't a rock drill working there, and hasn't been this three weeks past. Consequently there weren't any dynamite shots; but a man was seen creeping down that way soon after sundown. Guess he'd fixed to place his bomb right in the trench where the foundations are being laid; but something went wrong with it. He was blown to pieces; there were only sc.r.a.ps of him to be found.”
There was a grunt of satisfaction at the news; the men felt that such a fate was only just retribution.
”But what damage has been done, boss?” asked one of the men anxiously, as if the success of the ca.n.a.l depended on the answer.
”None; in fact the explosion seems to have helped us. Young Jim Partington tells me he was making a requisition for a rock drill this coming week, as there was a heap of stuff to break down before the diggers could get at it. Well, he's saved the trouble. That explosion brought tons of stuff away, and now there's hardly need for a rock drill. Of course you've got to remember that it's dark 'way over there, and a man can't fix exactly what may have happened. But we made a quick, and, I believe, thorough survey of the place, and I should say that I've told you everything. This blessed cur who has been worrying us these weeks past has come by his deserts at last.”
There was, in fact, not the smallest doubt that the rascally plot of Jaime and his followers had failed at the very beginning. Juan, who had accepted the post of honour, had disappeared from the scene swiftly and terribly. He had been hoist by his own petard, and, as the official had stated, there was little left to show that he had actually existed.