“Ah jes’ done think o’ somethin’, Marse Phil,” he said. “An’ Ah jes’ been wonderin’ why nobuddy haint thought o’ it afore. Dat radio stuff what yo’ all sets sech store by—Ah asks what good it am, Marse Phil, ef it don’ git us out o’ dis fix we’re in. Ef you kin talk over it, reckon dis yere’s de time to talk. Anyways, ’pears like to me, Marse Phil.”
It was a long speech for Bimbo, and at the end of it he drew a long breath, gazing at Phil with eager expectancy. Evidently he had expected his suggestion to be received with open arms.
An expression of dire disappointment spread over his black face as Phil slowly shook his head.
“We’ve thought of that, Bimbo,” he said. “But it won’t do to let outsiders in on this just now. If we should radio a ship for help, we would have to explain about the treasure, and that would never do. No, I guess we’ll have to stick it out for the present. We always have radio as a last resort, you know,” he added, by way of cheering the disconsolate Bimbo, as the latter turned slowly away.
“Anyways Ah done did the best Ah could,” he muttered. “Ef Ah had the workin’ o’ dat radio Ah wouldn’t be waitin’ for no las’ resort, nosir, not wiv dat dere mountain cuttin’ up pranks.”
But in spite of the heavy odds against them and the double danger in which they knew they stood the boys were firm in their decision not to radio for help, unless their position became absolutely desperate.
Unless Ramirez delayed his attack too long they were confident, with the aid of the barricaded cave that they could put their enemy to rout in spite of the difference in numbers. Then, the island once clean of Ramirez and his men, they could let shipwreck account for their presence on the island, meanwhile thinking up some plan for getting the treasure aboard without rousing the suspicion of their rescuers.
But that mountain! Blacker and blacker became the smoke cloud. As night fell, little tongues of flame could be seen shooting from the crater’s mouth, vivid streaks of light against the darkening sky. Through the earth shot sickening tremors, rocking the ground beneath their feet. The air was heavy and breathless and into it insidiously crept the smell of sulphur.
It seemed to the boys as if they could not breathe. They longed for a clean wind from the sea but none came to relieve them. It was as though all nature held itself in suspense, awaiting some tremendous climax, some terrific convulsion of its elements.
The boys waited, drawn close together, watching that ominous flickering of flame, fascinated, feeling as though they were under some sort of horrid spell, unable to drag their eyes away. Bimbo, crouched in a far corner of the cave was praying wildly.