"All masters are cruel," he muttered. "This Americaño is as bad as Ramon!"
"But he's going to preserve your liberty and keep you out of jail," Chesty reminded him.
"And now, boys, try to sleep, for I'm going to take a little walk and stretch my legs."
[CHAPTER XXV]
SCUTTLED
A modicum of truth had been included in Ramon Ganza's recital of falsehoods during his interview with those on board the yacht. The outlaw was really in a tight place and only by forcing, in some way, the capture of the yacht could he hope to escape in a manner at all agreeable to his requirements.
By this time he was fully aware of the situation that confronted him. The flying-machine, if it encountered no accident, would reach the mainland and secure assistance for the stranded Americans. Perhaps it was true that President Madero would send a warship to capture him. Like most fugitive criminals, he had an exaggerated idea of his own importance. In any event he must abandon his island kingdom and seek another hiding place. His first intention—to make everyone of these intruders prisoners and subjects, so they could not betray him—was frustrated by the escape of the two in the aëroplane. It would be useless to capture the others when these two had already carried the news to the authorities who were seeking him.
Two courses of procedure were, open to Ganza. One was hastily to outfit his sixty-foot launch and run it to the South Pacific in search of some other island that was uninhabited, taking with him enough men and women to start a new colony. The other was to capture the yacht, put his most cherished possessions on board and then make off in it before any help could arrive from the mainland. The first was by far the most sensible course, but the beauties of the Salvador had so enraptured him and he was so well aware of the value a yacht would prove to him that he could not bring himself to abandon the idea of securing it until the last moment of grace had arrived.