CHAPTER XI.
ONE CHANCE IN TEN.
Pedro was as ragged as all the rest of the rebels, but he was brown,not black or yellow. He was barefooted and wore on his head a batteredstraw hat. His only weapon was a machete, fastened about his waist bya piece of rope. He was a man of middle age, and from his manner therewas not the least doubt of his loyalty to the daughter of his formercaptain. He carried a small parcel, knotted up in a dusty handkerchief,and laid it on the ground near the water jar; then, drawing off andkeeping close watch of the timber behind him, he began speakinghurriedly in Spanish.
The girl's face lighted up as she listened. Once in a while sheinterrupted the torrent of words pouring from Pedro's lips to put in aquestion, then subsided and let the torrent flow on.
For five minutes, perhaps, Pedro talked and gesticulated. At the end ofthat time he pulled off his tattered hat, extracted a scrap of foldedpaper from the crown and handed it to the girl. Then, with a quick,low-spoken "_Adios!_" he vanished into the forest.
As soon as he was safely away, Ysabel turned toward the bushes wherethe boys had been concealed and clapped her hands.
"Come!" she called; "I have something to tell you."
Matt and Dick hurried to join her.
"What's it about?" asked Dick eagerly.
"It's about your friends, of whom you were telling me when Pedro came.They have been captured----"
"Keelhaul me! There's nothing very pleasing about that."
"Didn't you expect it?" the girl asked. "You knew something must havehappened to them when they failed to return to the boat."
"Yes," spoke up Matt, "we expected it, but I think both of us had ahope that they had merely been pursued into the wood and were workingtheir way back to the _Grampus_."
"The men General Pitou had set to watch the path from the Purgatoirewere the ones who captured them. Mr. Jordan had time to fire just oneshot before they were seized, but that bullet wounded a captain, oneof the general's best men. Pedro says General Pitou is very angry, andthat he is going to keep all the prisoners and not release them untilthe United States government gives up my father."
"The government will never do that," said Matt. "Our country is toobig to be bullied by a handful of rebels, 'way down here in CentralAmerica."
"Then General Pitou says the prisoners will all be killed."
There was little doubt in Matt's mind but that this irresponsible rebelgeneral would be reckless enough to carry out his threat.
"Oh, but we've made a monkey's fist of this, all right," growled Dick."We come down here to rescue Coleman, and, instead of doing that, weleave Jordan, Speake and Tirzal in the enemy's hands. A nice run ofluck this is!"
Matt was equally cast down.
"Tirzal is to be shot as a spy," went on Ysabel.
"Poor chap! But what could you expect? I hope the president of thistwo-by-twice republic will capture every man-jack of the rebels andbowse every last one of them up to the yardarm. That's what they'reentitled to, from General Pitou down."
"Did Pedro have anything to say about us?" inquired Matt.
"That's where the good part of it comes in," went on the girl. "Therebels think you're in the woods, somewhere to the north of the path.All the general's force, excepting about twenty-five armed men whoare guarding the prisoners at the encampment, are hunting through thetimber in the hope of catching you. Fingal is helping in the search,and vows he will make you pay dearly for the part you played in thecapture of my father."
"I fail to see anything pleasant in all this, even yet," continuedDick. "I thought you said that here was where the good part comes in?"
"Can't you see?" cried the girl. "If all the rebels, outside theencampment, are looking for you in the timber the other side of thepath, why, that leaves the way clear to the submarine. We can go there,right off, and get away from General Pitou and his men."
There was a short silence after this. Matt and Dick were both turningthe subject over in their minds. When their eyes sought each other,dogged determination could be read in each glance.
"As you say, Ysabel," said Matt, "we have an opportunity to get back tothe submarine, but we can't go and leave our friends behind us."
"You--can't--go?" breathed the girl, staring at Matt as though shescarcely understood his words. "Why can't you go?" she went on, almostfiercely. "Your friends are captured, and how can you hope to get themaway from twenty-five armed men? Don't be so foolish! Get away whileyou can--pretty soon it will be too late, and if you are caught youwill be shot."
"What's in that handkerchief, Ysabel?" queried Dick, pointing to theparcel Pedro had placed on the ground near the water jar.
"Food," said the girl curtly. "Eat it, if you want to. I'm not hungry."
She was in a temper because Matt and Dick would not hurry away to thesubmarine. She could not understand why they should delay their flightwhen it was manifestly impossible for them to be of any help to theircaptured friends. As if to further emphasize her displeasure, sheturned her back on the boys.
Dick stared at her, and then swerved an amused glance upon his chum.
"Didn't Pedro give you a note, Ysabel?" asked Matt gently.
"Yes. It was from Coleman. He managed to write it and give it to Pedrofor me. It is mine."
"Suppose you read it? Perhaps there is something in it that isimportant."
Ysabel partly turned and threw the note on the ground at Matt's feet.
"You can read it," she said.
Matt picked up the scrap and opened it out. It was written in leadpencil, on the back of an old envelope.
"I hope you can get away some time to-day in that pitpan Pedro was telling you about. If you can do that, you can help all the prisoners now in General Pitou's hands. Some time soon we are to be taken down the Izaral halfway to Port Livingstone, where the rebels have another camp which they consider safer than this one. We will all go in the gasoline launch which was stolen, early this morning, by Fingal and Cassidy. Tell this to the customs officer at Port Livingstone, and ask him to do his best to intercept the launch and help us. I cannot write more--I have not time."
This was the note.
"Shiver me!" muttered Dick dejectedly, "if the old cutthroat, Pitou,has his prisoners taken farther back in the jungle, there'll be nopossibility of rescuing them. We're on the reefs now, for sure."
Matt turned to Ysabel. Her anger was passing as quickly as it hadmounted, and she seemed anxious to meet any question Matt should askher.
"When Fingal and Cassidy came up the river in the gasoline launch,"said Matt, "did they turn into the Purgatoire branch?"
"No. Pedro said that they went on up the Izaral, and got across to theencampment by another road through the woods."
"Then, if the prisoners are brought down in the launch they'll have topass the mouth of the Purgatoire?"
"Yes."
"Dick," said Matt, "there's a chance that we can do something to thatboat load of prisoners."
"What?" queried Dick, pricking up his ears.
"We can go back to the submarine, drop down the Purgatoire and waitthere, submerged, until the gasoline launch comes down."
"Then what, matey?" asked Dick.
"Then we'll do whatever we can. There'll be five of us on thesubmarine, and I don't see why we couldn't accomplish something."
But Dick shook his head.
"You don't know, matey," said he, "that Coleman's information iscorrect. It's hardly likely that Pitou would blow the gaff to one ofhis prisoners."
"Coleman may have found it out in some other way than from GeneralPitou."
"Well, the launch may already have dropped down the river."
"Hardly, I think, when most of the rebels are out looking for us.There's a chance, Dick."
"One chance in ten, I should say, matey."
"That's better than no chance at all, which seems to be what we havehere."
"We've worse than no chance at all, out in this scrub with the rebelarmy looking fo
r us. If we're caught, we'll be done browner than akippered herring. Although I haven't much hope, I'm for making a quickslant in the direction of the _Grampus_."
"Then you're going to the submarine?" asked Ysabel joyfully.
"Yes, and we'd better start at once while the coast seems to be clear."
The girl clapped her hands and started for the timber.
"Do you want this?" asked Dick, lifting the bundle from beside thewater jar.
"No, it's only food--my dinner that Pedro brought me. You have plentyon the submarine, haven't you?"
"Yes," Matt laughed.
"Then hang that to a tree branch for Pedro. Probably he robbed himselfto help me. He'll come back and get it."
Dick twisted the knots of the handkerchief into the end of a branchand they all started hurriedly back toward the path.
The difficulties of the way made it necessary for them to travel insingle file. Matt went ahead, Ysabel followed him, and Dick brought upthe rear.
In ten minutes they were back in the path and hurrying swiftly in thedirection of the Purgatoire. But ill luck was still following them,like an evil spectre.
They had not gone far along the course before a rebel soldier sprangfrom the timber into the path at Matt's side.
The surprise was mutual, and, for an instant, Matt and the negrostared at each other. Fortunately the negro had no firearms. He drewhis machete, but before he could aim a stroke with it, Matt had leapedforward and struck his arm a fierce blow with the butt of Jordan'srevolver.
A yell of pain fell from the negro's lips, his arm dropped at his sideand he jumped backward into the woods.
"Quick," shouted Matt to those behind. "There may be others with himand we'll have to make a dash for the _Grampus_. Run on ahead, Dick,and get the submarine up and close to the bank. I'll follow you withYsabel."
Dick would have demurred at this arrangement, but a chorus of wildyells, issuing from the wood, proved that the negro had spread thealarm.
"The boat will be ready for you," shouted Dick, as he passed like astreak along the path.
Seizing the girl's arm, and keeping the revolver in hand, Matt startedon as rapidly as the girl could go.