And so it came about that when Jack emerged from the mouth of “the chimney,” not more than twenty yards from the rim of the Lion’s Mouth, the first sounds that greeted him were the voices of his friends who had been peering, with blanched cheeks, into the profundities of the Lion’s Mouth.
[CHAPTER XXXII—A BOLD ROBBERY]
It was the day following Jack’s stirring adventure, which had left no more serious consequences to him than bruised hands and knees. He was sitting in the wireless room listening to the uproar outside. For the Tropic Queen was coaling, and the shouts of the negroes and the roar of the coal as it shot into the bunkers filled the air.
Sam was ashore and so was De Garros. They had gone to communicate with the authorities; but had found the Colonial police not much interested. Jack felt drowsy. It was getting late in the afternoon. Soon the swift tropic dusk would drop like a pall.
To keep awake, he decided to take a turn along the decks. He descended to the promenade deck and walked briskly up and down.
“Since we don’t sail till to-morrow, I guess I’ll go ashore this evening,” he decided to himself. “It’s too lonesome on board. Everybody’s gone ashore for that big ball at the hotel to-night.”
But he decided to wait for the return of Sam and De Garros before leaving. It grew dark, and they had not come back. Jack was about to scribble a note and leave it in the wireless room, explaining that he had tired of waiting and gone ashore, when a roughly dressed man brushed by.
It was too dark to see the fellow’s face, but he appeared to be a sailor. Jack thought little more of the incident and went to his room to change his uniform for street garments. He was descending the stairs again to the main deck, bound for the gang-plank, when he was startled by a sudden sound.
It was the dull booming noise of an explosion, and it appeared to come from some place on board the ship.
For a minute or two he stood still, trying to locate the sound. As he stood at pause, a figure darted from the purser’s room. It was that of the roughly dressed sailor who had shoved past the boy a short time before. From the purser’s room there rolled a dense cloud of smoke. It reeked of dynamite.