Part 18 (2/2)

The big steamer slowly rounded the long, sandy arm of Port Royal and took on the black pilot. Then she proceeded up the harbor, following a twisted, tortuous channel, past mangrove swamps, ruined batteries and rankly growing royal palms.

As soon as the s.h.i.+p had docked, Jack and Sam both received leave to go ash.o.r.e. As may be imagined, they did not waste much time on preparations, but were on the deck almost as soon as the gang-plank was down. Most of the pa.s.sengers followed their example, and as but few of the s.h.i.+p's company were leaving the _Tropic Queen_ at Kingston, the quaint town, with its cement stores and hotels, its dusty streets and swarming negroes, was soon thronged with sightseers.

Jack and Sam chartered one of the hacks that are everywhere present in the town, and ordered the driver to show them about the city. They found that while the main town was businesslike and substantial with its concrete structures and stores, the back streets still showed abundant evidences of the earthquake, which some years ago shook down most of the city and caused a tremendous loss of life.

Some of the houses looked as if they had been sh.e.l.l-ridden. The roofs had fallen in, showing the bare rafters. Walls were cracked, and in some places the entire front was out of a house, revealing the interior of the bare rooms.

”I don't see very much that is interesting here,” said Jack at length.

”Suppose we go back to the hotel that was recommended to us?”

”I'm agreeable,” said Sam. ”So far, my chief impression of Kingston is dust and noisy n.i.g.g.e.rs.”

The order was given to the black driver, and they were soon rolling back to the hotel that Jack had mentioned. It was a picturesque structure in the Spanish style of architecture, which harmonized well with the tropic gardens surrounding it. Pa.s.sing through the lobby, where they stopped to buy postcards, the boys found themselves in a palm grove facing the blue waters of the harbor.

A delightful breeze rustled through the palms and the boys contentedly threw themselves into chairs and ordered two lemonades. They sipped them slowly while they enjoyed the view and the shade. Many others from the s.h.i.+p had found their way there, too. Among them was Colonel Minturn with a party of friends.

He pa.s.sed the boys with a friendly nod. He had hardly gone by, when Jack, who had happened to look around, gave a start.

Standing behind a palm and watching the Minturn party intently, was Jarrold. The trunk of the tree afforded him ample protection from the observation of the man he was watching with an unwavering scrutiny.

Apparently he had not seen the boys. Jack nudged Sam and gave him a whispered warning not to turn around.

”Jarrold is there, watching Colonel Minturn. He is plotting some mischief. I am sure of it.”

”Wherever he is, there is trouble,” agreed Sam.

”That's just where you are right,” replied Jack.

”Is his pretty niece with him?” inquired Jack's companion.

”I don't see her. By the way, I wonder where De Garros met them. Queer that, although they know each other, as De Garros admits, they never speak.”

”They probably met abroad somewhere,” hazarded Sam.

”I suppose so,” was the reply, and then the talk drifted to other subjects. But Jack had s.h.i.+fted his chair so as to watch Jarrold without appearing to do so. Before long, the man turned and strolled in the direction of a terrace which opened on the palm garden.

Jack half rose from his chair as if he intended to follow him.

”What's the trouble?” asked Sam.

”I don't mean to let Jarrold out of my sight, that's all,” said Jack.

”But look! He has stopped. He is talking to someone. That chap in a sun helmet. I can't see his face, but somehow he looks mighty familiar to me.”

The young man who had joined Jarrold strolled along the terrace with him till they both found chairs. Then they sat down and seemed to be engaged in earnest conversation. The stranger, who yet seemed familiar to Jack, had his back turned to them so that it was impossible to see his features.

<script>