Read Motor Matt's Close Call; or, The Snare of Don Carlos Page 11


  CHAPTER X.

  AN OPPORTUNITY.

  The three prisoners were hungry and they lost no time in making anattack on the basket. While they ate they discussed the situation inwhispers.

  "Did Fingal come down the ladder from the conning tower, mate?" askedDick.

  "I thought so," was the reply, "from the noise he made."

  "Did he go back to the deck?"

  "I didn't wait to listen."

  "If we could git that gang separated," said Speake, "we could lay 'emout one at a time--an' I guess the revolvers wouldn't cut much figure."

  "That would be fine, Speake," returned Dick, "but Fingal and his gangare not doing the things we want 'em to."

  "If we're to accomplish anything toward recapturing the submarine,"chimed in Matt, "we'll have to do it before Don Carlos gets back. Hemay bring a gang of soldiers with him. Besides, don't forget what'sto happen to us at nightfall in case we don't agree to join therevolutionists."

  "I'm not pinin' to have my name wiped off the articles," said Speake,with a wry grimace. "For one, I'd rather take long chances tryin' torun the rebels off the boat. It's a heap more comfortin' to get done upthat way than by lettin' Fingal an' Pitou an' this Don Carlos do whatthey please without never liftin' a hand to help ourselves."

  "I can't see anything comforting in that proposition, either way,"observed Dick. "All I hope is, just now, that Ysabel will be careful,and that Pedro will look after her. Everything depends on her."

  "She's a brick!" murmured Matt admiringly.

  "And she's doing all this for you, matey!"

  "It's for all of us!" declared Matt.

  "Don't you never think it," said Speake. "She's runnin' a lot o' risks,an' I wouldn't never have thought a girl could have the grit. But MotorMatt was in danger! That was enough for her to know."

  "I wonder how Carl came out with his serenade?" remarked Dick. "Ysabelwasn't at the house, and it's a fair guess that our Dutch raggie gotinto trouble."

  Carl certainly had tumbled into difficulties--but it was not because hehadn't found any one at home.

  "What do you suppose Carl is thinkin' about _us_?" said Speake.

  "Our disappearance will bother a good many people," answered Matt.

  Speake's conscience troubled him.

  "I feel like an ornery cur," said he, "over the way Gaines, an'Clackett, an' me acted! Ye remember how mad us three was at Cassidywhen he got in such a takin' because Matt was put in charge o' the_Grampus_? Well, to my notion, we ain't acted any better than Cassidydid."

  "You ought to feel cut up," reproved Dick. "The only way you can squareyourself, Speake, is by doing a lot to help recapture the ship."

  "Jest give me the chance," answered Speake, his eyes flashing, "an'I'll show you what I can do."

  The boys finished the food, took a drink all around from the bottle ofcold coffee that Ysabel had put in the basket, and then continued theirwait for something to happen. They felt better physically, even if theywere not more hopeful.

  Dick lay back on one of the cots and went to sleep; Speake pulled hishat down over his eyes and leaned against the forward bulkhead; Matt,flat on his back on the other cot, stared upward at the rounded deck,wishing that he could poke a hole through the steel plates and so gainfreedom for himself and his friends.

  Speake dozed a little. Something white, poked through one of theventilator holes above his head, floated downward and landed on hisknee. He stared at it drowsily, then brushed at it mechanically withone hand. Suddenly he realized that the falling of a scrap of whitepaper was rather a peculiar circumstance, and snatched it off the floor.

  "Matt!" he called.

  "What is it?" returned Matt, rising on his elbow and directing his gazeat Speake.

  "This dropped down on me!" Speake held up the paper.

  Matt was off the cot in a flash and standing at Speake's side.

  "When?" he whispered.

  "Jest now."

  "It was pushed through one of the ventilator openings. It's anote--from Ysabel."

  He passed to Dick's side and shook him into wakefulness.

  "What's the row?" inquired Dick.

  "A note from Ysabel, pushed in to us through one of the holes in theforward bulkhead."

  "Keelhaul me!" muttered Dick, smothering his excitement. "Read it,matey! Perhaps she's captured the revolvers."

  The note was written in pencil on a ragged scrap of paper. Matt, in aguarded voice, read it aloud:

  "'Pedro is asleep at the door. Fingal has gone off on the river bank. The two others are playing cards on the deck. I have Pedro's revolver and have unlocked the door. Now is the time! Capture Pedro and tie him--but don't hurt him. Be quiet--if he makes an outcry all is lost. Hurry!'"

  Speake pulled off his coat.

  "This is bully!" he whispered. "Now we've got a chance."

  "It's an opportunity I wasn't expecting," said Matt, pulling off hisshoes carefully. "In our stocking feet, fellows! We must not make anynoise. While Speake and I are binding Pedro, Dick, you go down and letGaines and Clackett out of the torpedo room. If we work this right wemay be able to get away from here and down the river."

  All three of the prisoners were excited, as well they might be. Anopportunity offered to save themselves and the boat--success or failurehanging on their quickness and silence.

  Advancing to the door, Matt laid his hand on the knob. Slowly hetwisted the catch out of its socket, and then inch by inch forced thedoor open.

  Yet, slight though the noise was that accompanied the click of thecatch, Pedro heard it. With a startled exclamation he leaped to hisfeet.

  Matt and Speake sprang at him, Matt catching his wrists and Speakethrowing an arm about his throat and clapping a hand over his lips.

  The odds were against Pedro, and he was helpless; yet, for all that, hemanaged to squirm about and make considerable noise.

  There was a drone of voices overhead, coming down the open hatch. Thevoices suddenly ceased, and some one was heard floundering over thedeck to the top of the tower.

  The electric light was not burning in the periscope room, and the onlylight that entered the chamber came from the hatch. Any one lookingdownward would not have been able to see anything distinctly except inthe immediate vicinity of the bottom of the ladder. Matt, Speake andPedro, as it chanced, were close to the locker.

  "Anythin' wrong down there, greaser!" called a husky voice.

  "No, se?or," answered Matt, trying to imitate the rough voice of theMexican.

  "Thought I heard you movin' around," said the man above, turning awayfrom the top of the tower.

  Pedro was forced down on the locker, and Ysabel glided forward with apiece of rope for bonds and a piece of cloth for a gag. Pedro turnedhis wild eyes on the girl with startled inquiry and suspicion.

  "You will not be hurt, Pedro!" whispered the girl; "don't make anoise--please."

  She followed this with some soft words in Spanish. But Pedro, loyalthough he undoubtedly was to the girl, continued to struggle. Matt andSpeake, however, managed to get him bound and gagged.

  "This is only the beginning, Motor Matt," breathed Ysabel, her cheeksflushed with excitement and her eyes bright as stars. "Here is Pedro'srevolver--take it."

  Matt took the weapon and thrust it in his pocket.

  "We can't use firearms," he whispered, "for they make too much noise.Our hope lies in capturing our enemies one at a time, then cutting thecables and dropping down the river. If possible, we must do this beforeFingal gets back."

  "Where did Dick go?" asked the girl.

  "To release Gaines and Clackett. The torpedo-room door is fastened bya bolt on the outside, so he'll have no trouble in getting them out.We'll wait till they come before making our next move."

  Matt had hardly finished speaking before Dick came in through theforward door of the room. Clackett followed him--but Gaines was notalong.

  Matt lifted a warning finger as Dick was about to speak, pointed upwardtoward the deck and then
motioned for Dick and Clackett to come closer.

  "Where is Gaines?" he whispered.

  "He got out through the torpedo tube, half an hour ago," said Dick.

  Matt, as will be remembered, had already thought of this maneuvre. Butit was unfortunate that Gaines had put it into effect, in view of whatwas transpiring.

  "What was Gaines going to do?" asked Matt, of Clackett.

  "He reckoned he'd go up the river an' try an' find General Mendez,"replied Clackett. "We sort o figgered it out between us that some ofthe soldiers under Mendez could come here and capture the boat andrelease the rest of us."

  Here was an awkward situation, and Matt wrinkled his brows over it.

  They could not leave without Gaines. He was taking chances and doinghis best to be of service to his comrades, and dropping down the riverwithout him was not to be thought of.

  "What shall we do now, matey?" asked Dick.

  "Keep on with our plan," answered Matt. "There are two of thescoundrels playing cards on deck. We must get them as safely as we havegot Pedro."

  "Shall we make a racket and bring them down?"

  "They'll both come, if we do that. We can capture them with less noiseif they come one at a time."

  Ysabel started forward.

  "I'll go up the ladder," said she, "and say that Pedro wants one ofthem. After you capture him, I'll go up after the other."

  "Good!" exclaimed Matt. "Get ropes, boys," he added to the others, "andstand ready for some swift and noiseless work."

  Ysabel glided to the ladder. Before she could mount, however, some onewas heard climbing over the top of the conning tower. As those belowlooked upward, a pair of booted feet swung down.

  "Fingal!" gasped Ysabel, drawing away fearfully.

  Matt motioned her out of the room.

  "Stand ready for him," he whispered, "as he reaches the bottom of theladder. The smallest mistake now means failure. Ready!"

  Scarcely breathing, Matt, Dick, Speake and Clackett stood waiting forthe burly ruffian who, jointly with Don Carlos, was responsible for alltheir troubles.