Bindloss Harold
Wyndham's Pal

CHAPTER IV
WYNDHAM FINDS A CLEW

A few days after Rupert's visit to the schooner, a quantity of cargo arrived. The goods were not valuable, but the owners were satisfied with the payment Wyndham told his agent to offer and Marston was surprised they had got a load at all.

"It's strange," said Wyndham thoughtfully when they lounged under the awning while the negroes unloaded the canoes. "Of course, the Bat may have allowed the stuff to come down, for reasons that are not very plain. On the other hand, it's possible some of the half-breeds don't yet own his rule. Since this might be important, I'd rather like to know, but don't see much chance of our finding out."

Marston noted that Harry called Rupert the Bat, but he agreed. Rupert was no longer a white man. All the same he was Harry's relation.

"I imagine our chance of finding out anything useful here is very small," he rejoined.

"Then suppose we take the cargo across for transshipment and see if we can pick up a clew at the other end?" Wyndham suggested. "If we knew something about Larrinaga's plans, it might help."

Although the schooner was not half-loaded, Marston agreed. Any excuse was good that took him away from the lagoon, and at noon next day Columbine went to sea. The voyage to the white town was short and on the evening of their arrival Marston lounged contentedly on the arcade in front of his hotel. A full moon shone above the flat roofs, the hotel was lighted, and the glow from the windows touched the pavement beyond the pillars. Citizens, enjoying the cool of the evening, crowded the streets, and sometimes stopped at the small tables to drink a glass of wine. On the opposite side of the street, the straight-fronted houses threw a dark shadow. The band of the cazadores regiment played on the plaza.

Wyndham was talking to a gentleman from whom his agent bought goods. Don Luis came to town to gamble at the casino, and Marston had met him before.

"You must come and see my finca," he said. "There are ducks on the marsh and you English are fond of sport."

Marston said he would be pleased to go if they stopped long enough; and then letting Wyndham carry on the talk, watched the passers-by. After a few minutes, a big muscular negro entered the belt of light, and Marston glanced at him with some surprise.

"There's Pepe!" he exclaimed.

He doubted if the negro heard him through the clink of glasses and hum of talk, but it looked as if he saw his quick movement, for he turned his head and went behind a group at a table.

"Somebody like him," said Wyndham carelessly, and when Marston looked back across the street the negro had vanished.

People moved about and Marston imagined he had retired into the gloom, where one could not distinguish him from the others. Pepe was the pilot at the lagoon, a good-humored fellow whom they had generally given a small present besides his pay. As a rule, he did not wear much clothes on board, but he was now rather neatly dressed in white cotton and his hat was good. On the Caribbean coast, men spend large sums on their hats. It looked as if Pepe was getting rich, but Marston could not imagine why he did not want to be seen. He was going to talk about this when he caught Wyndham's eye and he lighted a cigarette.

"My partner is a good shot," Wyndham said to their companion. "We will be occupied for two or three days, but perhaps after that – "

Don Luis fixed a day for their visit, and when he went off Marston turned to Wyndham.

"It was Pepe," he declared.

"Yes; I saw him. I think he was with the officer of the port-guard."

"But what is he doing here? And why did he step back when I turned to you?"

"I don't know," said Wyndham. "The thing's interesting."

Marston agreed, but he could suggest no explanation and they talked about Don Luis. In the morning, when the narrow streets got hot, they went to the marina where the sea breeze blew among the pepper-trees and palms. After lounging for a time on a shady bench, Wyndham indicated some carpenters at work behind the mole.

"It's too early to meet our agent. Let's see what those fellows are doing," he proposed.

They crossed a belt of shingle and found the carpenters mending a big open boat. Two or three other boats were drawn up close by and planks lay about. When Marston stopped, a man who had been sitting in the shade got up and turned to him with a careless smile. It was Pepe, the negro pilot.

"Hallo!" said Marston. "Have you given up your job?"

"Not for long. One likes a change," the other replied.

In the meantime, Wyndham examined the boats. He knew the type, which was used for taking off cargo to vessels that did not come into the harbor. For their length, they carried a big load and were generally propelled by four men who pulled the heavy oars double-banked. Their flat bottom adapted them for use in shallow water.

"Are you going to buy the candrays?" Wyndham asked.

Pepe grinned. "One does not get rich by fishing and piloting. It is cool here in the shade and I have not much to do."

"Oh, well," said Wyndham, "No doubt you have seen the schooner. I expect we'll sail in about a week and we can give you a passage, if you are going back."

Pepe said he did not mean to return yet, and Marston and Wyndham went away.

"I wonder what he is doing about the boats, although I don't know if it matters," Marston remarked.

"He was rather obviously loafing."

"I'd have expected to find him loafing about a second-class wine shop."

"With a hat like his and new yellow boots?" said Wyndham dryly.

"They may have cost him all he's got. These fellows are vain. All the same, there's something strange about his being here and trying to pass without our seeing him last night. He's frank enough this morning."

"He may have been making the best of it because he could not steal off before we came up."

"It's possible, although I don't see why he should want to dodge us," Marston replied, and added thoughtfully: "Since he's allowed to pilot vessels at the lagoon, I expect he's the Bat's man."

"Looks like that," said Wyndham. "I imagine he has been in Africa. Although his Castilian is not remarkably bad, the English he uses on board has the true West-coast twang. You might hear the words at Kingston, but the accent's good Sar Leone. However, if he's a friend of the Bat's, why was he going about with one of the President's port-guard?"

"Perhaps he met him at a wine-shop; they're both sailors," Marston suggested. "I thought you rather went out of your way to tell him we would sail in a week."

"An example of instinctive caution. It's possible we may sail before. In the meantime, we won't bother about the thing."

They went to the agent's office, and after transshipping their cargo set out one morning for Don Luis' finca. The road was bad, their horses were poor, and when they reached the big whitewashed, mud house their host persuaded them to stop the night. Dinner was served at four o'clock and soon afterwards Don Luis gave them fresh horses and they started for the marsh. It got dark while they floundered through the mud and reeds, but they shot some ducks as the light was going and stayed until the mosquitoes drove them off.

Going back, they took a road that crossed a steep hillside. Trees in dark masses rolled down the slope and thin hot mist drifted about the trunks. The moon, however, was full, and where there was an opening in the wet leaves bright beams pierced the gloom and made pools of silver light on the ground. A cloud of mosquitoes followed them and Marston's horse was fresh. He was not used to the big stirrups and wide Spanish saddle, and now and then found it hard to hold the animal. By and by, a regular throbbing noise came up the hill and he turned to Don Luis.

"It sounds like soldiers marching," he said.

Don Luis pulled up. "It is soldiers. A battalion of cazadores occupies the old mission. If we could go another way, it would be better, but there is no road up the hill."

The road was bad and narrow. There would not be much room for the soldiers to pass, and Marston imagined this accounted for Don Luis' wanting to turn off.

"They keep the troops a long way from the town," he said.

"The old mission makes a good barracks," Don Luis replied. "Besides, this is the President's own battalion. They are very loyal while their pay is regular, and made disturbances in the town, wrecking the wine shops where there was revolutionary talk."

They rode on and when the tramp of feet got louder, Marston asked: "Do the cazadores often drill in the dark?"

"Once they scarcely drilled at all," said Don Luis, laughing. "However, since Ramon Larrinaga became the President's friend they drill them much, with German officers in command. Recently the drilling has got harder and one wonders why this is and whether it means something. All the same, I am a supporter of the President's and if he is satisfied – "

The measured tramp was now very close, and the creak of leather and rattle of straps and slings came out of the gloom. Marston thought he could hear the labored breath of men toiling up hill. Then a hoarse challenge rang out and his horse plunged across the road.

"Hold him!" said Wyndham sharply, and two or three men with glittering bayonets came into the moonlight that shone between the trees.

"A picket, or advance guard!" Wyndham resumed. "Get down, Bob. You mustn't let the brute go!"

Marston's horse reared and tried to turn from the shining steel, but he got his foot out of the awkward stirrup and swung himself from the saddle. The others dismounted and the soldiers led them off the road and then stood on guard.

"I do not know if we are arrested," Don Luis remarked with a shrug. "One must use patience; but I am not without some influence and expect apologies when the officers arrive."

When he had quieted his horse Marston lighted a cigarette and leaned against a tree. For a few yards the moonlight shone upon the road and when the first fours of the leading platoon crossed the illuminated belt he was surprised. The cazadores were short, dark-skinned men. Their sloped rifles wavered at different angles, and their march was slouching, but they carried complete field equipment; pouches, mess-tins, tools and bandoliers. It was the first time he had seen the republican soldiers in regular marching order.

"Your government has been extravagant," he said to Don Luis.

Don Luis spread out his hands. "It is these Germans! Somebody will have to pay and the country is poor. Perhaps it is well to pay the soldiers, but one need not spend money on equipment until there is risk of war."

"Then there is no risk of war just now?" Wyndham interposed.

"I know of none. I cannot see why we should quarrel with our neighbors and although the negroes are turbulent in the back country, one leaves them alone. The Germans have led us into extravagance, señor. All must be efficient and worked on a plan! They do not understand us. We are not machines like them!"

He stopped, for one of the guards roughly ordered the party farther back into the wood. From their new position they could not see much. Sloped rifles tossed and wavered across the opening in the trees; steel bands and swivels shone in the moon, and one distinguished shadowy figures going by. After a time the measured tramp got fainter and rolled up the hill, and the beat of horses' feet came out of the gloom. The soldier who had driven the party back went to the road and his voice reached the others. Then he ordered them to advance and they saw two or three mounted officers in the moonlight. One sat stiff and motionless and asked a few sharp questions in uncouth Castilian, after which he turned to a companion.

"They say they are sportsmen and the fellow in the cloak claims to be well known. The others look like foreigners. I will leave you to talk to them, Don Maccario."

"Ah," said Don Luis, "now the thing resolves itself!"

The other officer pushed his horse forward, and then laughed. "It is you, my friend! Well, perhaps we ought to make our apologies, but we are being trained on the German model and you are not as discreet as usual."

"Is one forbidden to look at the soldiers for whom, one must pay?" Don Luis asked.

"One is not encouraged, when they marched at night," the other rejoined dryly.

"I and my friends come back from shooting and there is no other road. What must we do? It is well known that I am a staunch supporter of the President's and a friend of Don Ramon's. However, you can see the ducks and our guns."

"It is not necessary. Do you know Don Ramon is at the mission? I think he means to breakfast with you to-morrow. But who are your friends?"

Don Luis presented Wyndham and Marston, and after greeting them politely the officer let the party go. They rode on down the hill and Don Luis grumbled.

"I am staunchly for the Government; the thing was ridiculous. I do not see why they hide our soldiers. It is some German plan. We will talk about it to Don Ramon if he comes in the morning."

When they reached the finca and Wyndham and Marston were alone for a few minutes the former said, "Perhaps it's lucky we came here, because I think I have found a clew. I expect you noted they tried to keep the drilling and equipping of the President's battalion a secret."

"It looks like that," said Marston. "Still I don't see what it implies."

"For one thing, it implies they want a small, highly-efficient, striking force. The force is obviously to be used. These fellows don't study efficiency for its own sake."

"But why don't they want people to know?"

"I think that's rather plain. There's an advantage in striking before your antagonist is ready, and the citizens of this country have some talent for political intrigue; plot and counter plot are always going on. I don't imagine the President altogether trusts his friends."

"Ah," said Marston, "I begin to see – "

He stopped, and when Don Luis came up talked about the shooting.

CHAPTER V
DON LUIS' BREAKFAST PARTY

One got up early at the Finca Buenavista, and when they had been given some black coffee and a small hard roll, Wyndham and Marston went to a bench in the patio. The house was built in a hollow square and its occupants used the patio when the rooms were hot. One wall was pierced by arches opening to the kitchen and stable; outside stairs, balconies, and windows with green shutters, broke the straight front of the others. In places, purple masses of Bougainvillea glowed against the ochre wash, and beyond the flat roof a steep hill, darkly green with foliage, rolled up against a background of distant mountains. In the middle of the square a pepper tree stretched its thin branches across a marble fountain, in which shining water splashed. The finca dated back to days when the country prospered under Spanish rule.

Wyndham lighted his pipe and looked thoughtful when he began to smoke.

"If Larrinaga is curious about us, he will come to breakfast," he said. "Since I think we can take this for granted, we had better choose our line."

"Why do you think he is curious?" Marston asked.

"To begin with, I doubt if he's persuaded our object for stopping at the lagoon is to carry on an ordinary, lawful trade. We have some grounds for imagining Peters has not told him the Bat is my relation; but I expect he knows we could not get much cargo without the Bat's consent. Then it's possible he has heard about our examining the boats, and now we are found watching the secret maneuvers of his troops. It's pretty obvious whom they are to be used against."

Marston nodded. "I've been pondering this. They could put three or four platoons of cazadores on board the old gunboat and land them where they are wanted in the cargo lighters. In fact, if it was fine weather, the Government's tug could tow them all the way. That's why Larrinaga brought the pilot over. The question is: what ought we to do about it? Do you mean to warn the Bat?"

"Not yet," said Wyndham, thoughtfully. "If he got warning soon enough, he would probably be able to make a good fight. Although I don't imagine he could win, a number of the soldiers would be killed. We don't want this."

Marston agreed. Their business was not to take a side. Indeed, it was unthinkable that they should help either party. All the same, he was puzzled, because since they could not allow the Bat to be captured and shot, something must be done. After a moment or two, Wyndham resumed:

"I have a half-formed plan. We must find out where the soldiers will land and when they'll start. Then we must get across before them and take the Bat the news while they are marching through the bush. It will not matter if his spies bring him word a few hours sooner. This will bear out our tale; but our arrival must be carefully timed."

"Yes," said Marston and pondered.

Harry's plan was vague, but on the whole it was good. The Bat must be taken by surprise, without time being given him to organize a defense. Then he might be forced to surrender, not to the soldiers but to his relation, and they must try to smuggle him on board the yacht. The scheme, however, needed to be carefully worked out.

"You are reckoning on his not being ready to fight," he said.

Wyndham gave him a curious smile. "That is so. You ought to see why he is not ready, because, to some extent, you are accountable. Negroes and half-breeds, armed with cutlasses and a few old guns, can't stand up against well-drilled troops. The Bat has been embarrassed by not getting the material he expected us to bring."

"Of course," said Marston awkwardly. "Well, how are we to find out when the troops will sail?"

"I don't know. So far, we have been lucky; we must trust our luck again."

"Suppose all goes as you expect, and the Bat sees a struggle would be useless and gives himself up to us? What are we going to do with him?"

"That's perhaps the worst puzzle," said Wyndham dryly. "We must try to solve it when it comes. It's possible, however, the Bat may solve it for us."

Marston smoked for a time, glancing sympathetically at Wyndham, who knitted his brows. Then Bob said, "To begin with, we have got to bluff Larrinaga and he is not a fool. How do you mean to satisfy him?"

"On the whole, I think I'll leave the job to you," Wyndham replied and his eyes twinkled when he saw Marston's surprise. "Don Ramon's a good judge of character and would think a little embarrassment on your part rather natural. You're not the stuff romantic conspirators are made of, and our being partners will imply much. However, there's a drawback; he mustn't think I have cheated and am using you."

"Then, I'm to look simple and trustful, but not altogether a fool. You give me a hard part. I doubt if I can play it," Marston grumbled.

"You mustn't try to play a part," said Wyndham firmly. "Be frank where you can, but don't talk too much. There's a thing may help us; Don Ramon will be careful not to hint our seeing the boats and the soldiers in field equipment is important."

"Oh, well," said Marston gloomily, "I'll be glad when breakfast's over."

About eleven o'clock two servants began to spread a table under the pepper tree, where the shadow of a projecting balcony stretched across the broken flags. Soon afterwards, Don Luis, looking hot and slightly disturbed, entered the patio with Larrinaga and a thin, dark-faced gentleman who wore plain white clothes. Marston, however, noted that his hat and silk belt were remarkably good, and thought he had somewhere seen his portrait, only the man had then worn a handsome uniform. Bob got up as the strangers advanced and Wyndham, taking off his hat, gave him a quick glance. Marston felt he was warned to brace himself.

"My poor house is honored to-day," Don Luis remarked. "Our illustrious President will breakfast with us."

The President smiled urbanely and Don Luis presented his guests. Wyndham saw and frankly returned Larrinaga's twinkle, but he felt some strain and hoped Bob would take the proper line. If, as he thought, he understood Don Ramon, the latter had, perhaps, hinted they would sooner breakfast unceremoniously in the patio; Wyndham afterwards found this supposition correct. The stage was, so to speak, properly set. The light was strong and a row of windows commanded the table. Nothing indicated plot or secrecy. The party would meet without reserve and engage in careless talk.

"I did not know his Excellency was at the mission, or I might have ventured to offer him hospitality," Don Luis remarked when the President was served.

"Nobody knows," said the latter, smiling. "Now and then I neglect my duties and steal away from town. I can trust my officers, when they do not know I have gone. A President has some cares and perhaps deserves a holiday. Besides, I like to watch my soldiers' drill."

Wyndham imagined the President had thought it prudent to account for his visit to the mission, and admitted that the statement was plausible. He said that so far as he could judge, the cazadores were excellently drilled.

"I understand it was dark when you saw them," the President replied. "However, if soldiers interest you and I am not recalled to town, you and Señor Marston must come and see them at the morning parade."

"I hope we did not break your rules last night," said Marston. "Perhaps I ought to have pulled up sooner, but my horse was fresh and got out of control. Then I was not used to the saddle and stirrups. I do not ride much."

"Señor Marston is a sailor, what the English call a yachts-man," Larrinaga interposed. "For him, sport means the sea. His taste is strange, but some of his countrymen are like that. If I were rich, I would sooner amuse myself at the casino."

"Then our friend is rich?" the President remarked. "But I remember – these gentlemen paid some duties our officers neglected to collect. It is a thing that does not often happen in this country. Since Señor Marston is both rich and honest, he has my felicitations. However, we owe him and Don Luis some apologies." He turned to the others. "I hope you were not treated roughly, but our new officers are very strict and use all military caution."

Wyndham laughed. "We make no complaint. But surely even a German officer could not imagine three or four men with shot-guns meant to attack a battalion of soldiers as brave and disciplined as yours? We would much like to see them in the daylight."

"If I am allowed to stop at the mission, we will fix a time," the President said graciously.

"Is not the mission an awkward spot for a barracks?" Wyndham asked. "It is a long way from the town and the road is bad."

"It is lonely and quiet. Ours is a small country and we have jealous neighbors. One must take precautions, but, since spies are numerous, it is not prudent to display our readiness to fight. When one wants peace, one does not go about with a fine new pistol in one's belt."

Wyndham agreed. The President's explanation was plausible and his humorous frankness calculated to banish doubt, but Wyndham was not deceived. Moreover, he thought Larrinaga was watching him. Larrinaga's object for bringing the President was plain; he wanted his master to see the men he had allowed to trade at a spot where the Bat would try to get supplies. Wyndham felt that he and Marston were being closely examined. Then the President turned to Marston.

"Since I am told you came from Africa in your little ship, it looks as if you are a keen sailor."

"I love the sea," said Marston, simply. "There is no other sport like sailing."

The President shrugged, and pushing back his plate, gave Marston a cigar.

"It is a love that needs cultivation. When I go to sea I am very ill. Then one understands you others have comfortable yachts. To go to sea in a trading boat is another thing."

"All the same, one is at sea," Marston replied. "Besides, in a sense, a yacht is a toy, and when you have sailed about for a time you begin to feel it is playing and does not lead to much." He paused and resumed apologetically: "Yachting is not serious, if you understood. I expect my Castilian is very bad."

The President smiled and Wyndham thought his look of puzzled amusement was well done. He was satisfied with his comrade's reply. Bob was not playing up; he was sincere. The others would recognize this.

"The English are a serious people," the President remarked. "But go on, my friend. I am not bored."

"Well," said Marston, "when I got tired of playing, I saw how I could make my yachting useful. I thought I could earn some money. Then Harry, I mean Señor Wyndham – " He stopped and gave Wyndham an apologetic glance.

"He means he wanted to help me," Wyndham interposed.

"To earn money is certainly useful," the President observed and turned to Wyndham. "Your partner is a very scrupulous gentleman; he would not rob me and feels that he must use his talents. But you do not go to sea altogether because you like it?"

"I am a merchant and live by trade. I am forced to earn money."

"Then I hope you will earn enough to pay us our duties and I expect Don Ramon will help you when he can," said the President. "I am sorry we have no ships to show Señor Marston, because we are too poor to build a navy yet. We have an old gunboat and a big new tug. I do not know why we bought the tug, but the captain of the port-guards uses her to travel about the coast."

He paused and got up. "Now I must go back to the mission. If it is possible, you shall see our soldiers, and if not, I may perhaps come to see your ship."

Larrinaga and Don Luis went off with him and Marston drained his glass.

"That's done with!" he remarked with keen relief. "After all, it was easier than I thought, but I got a knock when I saw the fellow was the President. Don Luis is a staunch supporter of his and perhaps he imagined breakfasting with him would be a cheap reward. Presidents and such people do things like that."

"It's possible, but I doubt," said Wyndham dryly.

"Then suppose he came to study us? Do you think he feels we might be dangerous?"

"I imagined he feels he needn't bother about you. I'd much like to know what he thinks about me."

"Oh, well," said Marston, "he didn't push me hard and I got a part I could play. I'm on firm ground so long as I can talk about boats. All the same, when you come to think of it, if the fellow wanted to study us, the thing's ominous. The country's not big, but he's its head and I don't know if Presidents are often polite to traders."

"Exactly!" said Wyndham. "We must be careful. Anyhow, we have found out something. They don't want us to think they suspect us, or that their drilling the soldiers is important. They're clever, but their frankness was overdone. However, we must start for the port when Don Luis returns."