CHAPTER XVIII.—JUST AHEAD OF A MOB
The Rambler lay in front of Tabatinga, ready to take to the reaches of the upper river, one morning, when Jule called Clay’s attention to a small steamer, painted a silver gray, which was steaming into a crude slip not far away.
“That boat looks familiar,” the boy said. “How many times have we passed her on the way up?”
Clay viewed the boat critically and then went for his glass. Frank had heard the question, seen Clay take the glass from the hook on the wall of the cabin, and followed to the side of the boat. Clay looked long at the steamer and then handed the glass to Frank.
“What do you make of her?” he asked.
“Which way did she come from?” asked the boy, placing the glass in position.
“Up river,” answered Jule, at an inquiring glance from Clay.
“That’s strange!” Frank exclaimed.
“What is?” demanded Jule.
“The Señorita coming from that direction,” was the reply.
“The Señorita!” repeated Clay, in amazement.
“Just what I thought!” Jule declared.
“So that is our escort, all in a new suit of clothes!” Alex grinned, looking over Frank’s shoulder at the freshly-painted steamer.
“There is no doubt about it,” Frank replied. “But I can’t understand why she is coming down stream.”
“She’s been investigating Cloud island,” laughed Alex.
“That is no joke,” Jule cut in. “Do you see our friend with the scar and the funny little black mustache?” he added.
“Señor Lewiso?” asked Frank. “Yes, he is on board, and is looking this way.”
“Give him the merry ha, ha!” advised Jule.
“So that is his name?” Clay asked, turning to Frank. “Señor Lewiso. You never mentioned that before!”
“There was no occasion,” Frank said.
While the boys inspected the Señorita, Señor Lewiso descended into a small boat and was taken ashore.
“I wish I knew what he wants in the town,” Frank mused.
“Supplies, probably,” Clay suggested.
Frank shook his head.
“There is little need of her buying supplies here,” he said, “for she has large provision refrigerators, and, besides, most of the food supply up here would naturally come from the forest and river.”
“Then he is going ashore to find out something about the Rambler. Perhaps he did not see us.”
This from Alex, who was now preparing for the shore.
“Rest assured that he did see us!” Frank replied, noting the boy’s preparations for a visit to the city. “Where are you going?”
“Why, don’t you want to know what he’s up to?” asked Alex.
“Of course, but you——”
“Oh, yes I can!” broke in the boy. “I can take Captain Joe with me and shadow him like a Sherlock Holmes!”
“Of course we can!” decided Jule, also making ready for a visit to the city. “You see, he doesn’t know us, and——”
“Don’t you ever think he doesn’t!” Case interrupted. “That boat lay close to the Rambler in the South Branch for a number of days, and you may be sure that he has a mental photo of everyone of us. Better cut this visit out!”
“You said,” turning to Frank, “that you would like to know what he wanted in the city! Well, then!”
“Run along!” Clay decided, seeing that Frank was about to appeal to him for advice. “I see no harm in the boys going, but they would better leave Captain Joe on the boat.”
“I guess Captain Joe wants to feel the soil under his feet, just the same as we do,” Alex exclaimed, patting the dog on the head, “but we’ll leave him on board if you think best.”
“He will be certain to get into a quarrel with some Brazilian pup,” laughed Jule, “and may bring on international complications, so we’d better kiss him bye-bye and be on our way.”
The lads went ashore in the boat while Captain Joe stood on the prow and threw glances of sorrow and reproach at them. When they reached the shore, however, Alex gave out a long, shrill whistle and the next moment Captain Joe was in the river, swimming to his feet!
“Go it!” Case stormed. “He’ll get you into a fight, and we’ll have to come and get you out. Go it, and have all the fun you want to, but lookout for squalls.”
“That is the first evil forecast I have heard from you in a long time,” laughed Clay.
“We’ve had too much of the real thing lately,” grinned Case, “to need any imaginary woes. Say, I’m going to quit that prophet-of-evil role!”
“I hope so,” Clay responded.
During the absence of the boys and the dog Frank moved restlessly about the hot little cabin and the crowded forward deck. It was plain to both Clay and Case that he anticipated something important as a result of the trip ashore.
Alex and Jule were reckless and full of pranks, but he knew them to be courageous, resourceful and tenacious of any purpose undertaken. He thought they would have little difficulty in finding the man they sought. The only question in his mind was as to whether they would not, by some prankish trick, get themselves into trouble with the people of the town.
Señor Lewiso would not molest them. He knew that very well. He thought he understood the man thoroughly, and counted on his trying to make friends with the lads instead of antagonizing them. Clay questioned him in vain when he said as much to his chum. Frank would not talk of the man, his object in following them, or of the secrets of Cloud island.
Noon came and the boys were still absent. Then Captain Joe came to the shore where the row-boat lay and set up a request to be taken on board, as they thought. Thinking that it might be just as well to have the boat alongside, Case stripped to the waist and plunged into the river, swimming with long, steady strokes to the shore.
Captain Joe pranced, barking, around him, but would not enter the boat. Instead he seized Case by one trousers leg and invited him to take a stroll into the city, much to the delight of a crowd of boys and adult loafers lounging about the water front.
“What is it, Captain?” asked Case, as if the dog could answer him. “Where did you leave the boys?”
Again the dog drew at his clothes, urging him in the direction of the town.
“But I can’t go in this swimming rig,” said Case, arguing with the dog as he would have argued with one of his chums. “You wait here while I go on board and dress, then I’ll go with you.”
The dog expressed his dissatisfaction with this arrangement by a series of growls, but Case entered the boat and rowed to the Rambler, where he found Clay and Frank ready for the shore, they having seen the dog’s pantomime from the deck.
“Just as I thought,” Case grumbled. “They’ve gone and got into some trouble and sent the dog to tell us about it.”
The situation looked grave, but Clay smiled as he nudged the boy in the ribs.
“You were going to quit that!” he said.
“Well,” Case responded, with a grin, “they’ve found a diamond mine, and have sent the dog to notify us to come and help carry away the wealth. Does that suit you any better?”
“Surely, that is much better!” smiled Clay.
In the meantime Captain Joe was sitting on the little dock where the boat had been moored in a very dignified attitude, his snarly nose pointing up the street which ended at the river. This was not the main street of the town, but one running back of the thoroughfare where most of the places of business were situated. It was a street where old warehouses and cheap eating and drinking places predominated.
“See Captain Joe!” Frank exclaimed; “he scents mischief up there. We would better be on our way.”
“Someone must remain on the Rambler,” Clay declared, “and you, Frank, ought to be the one. He, this Señor Lewiso, is not after us, but he may make trouble for you.”
“What a name!” Case exclaimed. “I’ll wager that his name is just plain Lewis in the United States.”
“That is probably correct,” Clay agreed. “Now for it!”
Then the actions of the dog attracted their attention. He no longer held his dignified pose, but was running to and fro on the dock, looking alternately at the Rambler and the street beyond the dock, as if in doubt whether to chase up the street or swim to the boat. Presently he darted away up the street.
Believing that something serious was happening to Alex and Jule, Clay and Case now sprang into the boat and rowed ashore. There was then no need for them to advance up the street taken by Captain Joe.
An excited mob was rushing down the thoroughfare, and at the head of it, covering the ground like race-horses and dodging sticks and clubs as they shot ahead, were Alex and Jule.
The boys were not very far ahead of the crowd, but were gaining. Indeed, they would soon have been beyond the reach of the missiles thrown in their direction only for the fact that fresh recruits were continually swinging into the race from nearby doorways and taking front positions in the pursuit.
Captain Joe was running at the heels of his master, pausing now and then to check the pursuit by showing a dangerous set of teeth to the pursuers. At such times those in advance fell back sullenly, not caring to come to close quarters with the dog.
When the boys reached the dock they were only a few paces ahead of the front line of those who were giving chase. One sturdy fellow, far in advance, evidently a Spaniard, was even reaching out to seize Alex when he came to the boat. He might have succeeded in his attempt to prevent the lad getting into the craft only that the dog sprang at him and bore him back. As the two boys and the dog gained the boat the oncoming rabble stumbled over the prostrate man and half a dozen pitched headforemost into the river.
These seemed to be too much astonished at their sudden immersion to seize the boat or the oars, and so detain the boys, although those in the rear shouted to them to do so, and Clay pushed out into the current. While members of the mob sprang for nearby boats, Frank set the motors going and picked up the boys halfway to the dock.
Then the Rambler, for the second time during that trip, glided away, leaving an angry, vindictive mob howling at her crew from the shore. Once on the boat, and the boat showing clear water between herself and the dock, Alex and Jule dropped down on deck and set up a succession of mad shouts which echoed over the stream. Captain Joe put his paws on the railing at the screen door and deliberately winked first one eye and then the other at the defeated runners! Alex declares to this day that he did it just to provoke his former antagonists!
“Now, what is it all about?” asked Clay, as the Rambler shot up the Amazon at full speed. “Can’t you boys go on shore without bringing a mob of uninvited guests back with you?”
“That is our escort!” grinned Jule, waving an arm in the direction of the gesticulating crowd on the dock.
“How did you happen to stir up such a hornet’s nest?” asked Case.
“It was this way,” Alex began, whistling to the dog and taking his head into his lap as he sat on the deck, “when we got up there into the town we saw—. Guess?”
“Lewiso,” suggested Clay.
“Give it up!” cried Case. “Go on!”
“Well, we saw, not the man we went to look up, but the two Englishmen we had the skirmish with in the bush down on Ruination creek!”
“Then they must have passed us on a steamer,” Frank interrupted. “How were they dressed?”
“Fine! Oh, they’ve made a raise since we saw them trying to steal the Rambler!”
“That is why I failed to hear or see anything of them along the river as we came up,” Frank mused.
“So, when you were watching night and day that is why!” Case cried. “Did you think they would walk up?”
“I thought that they, being down on their luck, would be obliged to make their way from town to town on tramp trading vessels, and that I might hear of them somewhere.”
“They look like they owned a yacht of their own now,” Jule put in. “They sure have robbed a bank somewhere.”
“Go on with your story,” Clay suggested, as the Señorita left the dock and started up stream. “If you have good luck you may be able to tell us what is going on before that steamer comes up with us.”
“Of course,” Jule said, taking up the story, “Alex had to follow the Englishmen into a restaurant, where they were eating some funny contraption and drinking something that looked like rum. They were so busy they did not see us at first—busy over papers which looked like maps they took from their pockets!”
“Maps!” echoed Frank, excitedly.
“Yes, maps, and they laid the bunch of papers down on the table, and they looked good to me, and so I sent Captain Joe after them.”
“You did?” shouted Clay and Case in a breath. “Did he get them?”
This from Frank, whose eyes were shining with a spirit the boys never seen there before.
“Get them?” repeated Jule. “Of course he got them, and handed them to me, and we beat it for the boat, and the Englishmen followed with a mob at their heels, and we hotfooted it down the street.”
“But Captain Joe——”
“Yes, I know he got to the dock a long time before we did, for we got sidetracked and had to hide from the mob in an old warehouse. It was while we were in there that Captain Joe left us, and came after you.”
“But the mob never found us,” Alex exclaimed, “until we broke and ran for the river. I guess the Englishmen are looking for us back there in the warehouse yet.”
“The papers?” asked Frank. “Where are they?”
Alex laid a packet on the deck by his side.
“What are they?” he asked, provokingly holding them down with one hand as Frank, catching sight of one, reached for them.
“Maps of Cloud island!” was the quick reply.