“So you have a plan for capturing that old tug of General Yozarro? What do you think of it, Captain?”
“It can be done with little trouble as Martella says. I was thinking of the same thing while he was away. It would be a fine trick to play on General Yozarro.”
“And I should be glad to help, but it will not do.”
“Why not?”
“Despite what General Yozarro said, the two republics are not at war. If they were, the capture would make your fortune. As it is, it would bring your ruin. General Bambos would be obliged not only to disavow the act, but to punish you for the offence.”
“I was thinking,” said Martella, “that perhaps the Major would be willing to take the responsibility.”
“I admit that the temptation is strong, and, were not Miss Starland’s interests at stake, nothing would please me more than to capture that wheezy tug and scuttle it, but it may bring unpleasant consequences to her and therefore is not to be thought of.”
Captain Guzman said these words were wise, and Martella was compelled reluctantly to accept the situation, though it irked him. The sail of the boat was hoisted, Miss Starland was given a seat at the stern, and the men united to shove the craft into deeper water.
“There is little wind,” observed the Captain, “but it is favoring and we ought to be at Zalapata soon after daylight.”
The two natives placed themselves at the bow, and the Major as usual, took charge of the tiller, thus bringing himself close to his sister. The wooded shore so blanketed the catboat, that Martella took up a pole to push the craft out into the stream. Soon, enough impulse caught the sail to give headway, and they moved slowly out toward the middle of the river. Martella laid down the pole, and seated himself, still grinning.