CHAPTER XVI
THE COLLISION
Judging by Mr. Alcando's manner no one would have thought he hadsaid anything out of the ordinary. But both Blake and Joe hadheard his low-voiced words, and both stared aghast at him.
"What's that you said?" asked Blake, wondering whether he hadcaught the words aright.
"Dynamite!" exclaimed Joe, and then Blake knew he had made nomistake.
Somewhat to the surprise of himself and his chum the Spaniardsmiled.
"I was speaking in the abstract, of course," he said. "I have ahabit of speaking aloud when I think. I merely remarked that acharge of dynamite, here in Culebra Cut, or at Gatun Dam, would sodamage the Canal that it might be out of business for years."
"You don't mean to say that you know of any one who would do sucha thing!" cried Blake, holding the box of unexposed film that theSpaniard had given him.
"Of course not, my dear fellow. I was speaking in the abstract, Itell you. It occurred to me how easy it would be for some enemy toso place a charge of explosive. I don't see why the Canal is notbetter guarded. You Americans are too trusting!"
"What's that?" asked Captain Watson, coming up at this juncture.
"I was merely speaking to the boys about how easy it would be toput a charge of dynamite here in the cut, or at the dam, anddamage the Canal," explained Mr. Alcando. "I believe they thoughtI meant to do it," he added with a laugh, as he glanced at theserious faces of the two moving picture boys.
"Well,--I--er,--I--," stammered Blake. Somewhat to his ownsurprise he did find himself harboring new suspicions against Mr.Alcando, but they had never before taken this form. As for Joe, heblushed to recall that he had, in the past, also been somewhatsuspicious of the Spaniard. But now the man's frank manner ofspeaking had disarmed all that.
"Dynamite, eh!" exclaimed the captain. "I'd just like to see anyone try it. This canal is better guarded than you think, myfriend," and he looked meaningly at the other.
"Oh, I have no doubt that is so," was the quick response. "But itseems such a simple matter for one to do a great damage to it.Possibly the indifference to guarding it is but seeming only."
"That's what it is!" went on Captain Watson. "Dynamite! Huh! I'dlike to see someone try it!" He meant, of course, that he wouldnot like to see this done, but that was his sarcastic manner ofspeaking.
"What do you think of him, anyhow?" asked Joe of Blake a littlelater when they were putting away their cameras, having taken allthe views they wanted.
"I don't know what to say, Joe," was the slow answer. "I did thinkthere was something queer about Alcando, but I guess I was wrong.It gave me a shock, though, to hear him speak so about the Canal."
"The same here. But he's a nice chap just the same, and hecertainly shows an interest in moving pictures."
"That's right. We're getting some good ones, too."
The work in Culebra Cut, though nearly finished, was still in sucha state of progress that many interesting films could be made ofit, and this the boys proposed to do, arranging to stay a week ormore at the place which, more than any other, had made trouble forthe canal builders.
"Well, it surely is a great piece of work!" exclaimed Blake, as heand Joe, with Mr. Alcando and Captain Watson, went to the top ofGold Hill one day. They were on the highest point of the smallmountain through which the cut had to be dug.
"It is a wonderful piece of work," the captain said, as Blake andJoe packed up the cameras they had been using. "Think of it--a cutnine miles long, with an average depth of one hundred and twentyfeet, and in some places the sides are five hundred feet above thebottom, which is, at no point, less than three hundred feet inwidth. A big pile of dirt had to be taken out of here, boys."
"Yes, and more dirt will have to be," said Mr. Alcando.
"What do you mean?" asked the tug commander quickly, and rathersharply.
"I mean that more slides are likely to occur; are they not?"
"Yes, worse luck!" growled the captain. "There have been two orthree small ones in the past few weeks, and the worst of it isthat they generally herald larger ones."
"Yes, that's what I meant," the Spaniard went on.
"And it's what we heard," spoke Blake. "We expect to get somemoving pictures of a big slide if one occurs."
"Not that we want it to," explained Joe quickly.
"I understand," the captain went on with a smile. "But if it _is_going to happen you want to be here."
"Exactly," Blake said. "We want to show the people what a slide inCulebra looks like, and what it means, in hard work, to get rid ofit."
"Well, it's hard work all right," the captain admitted, "thoughnow that the water is in, and we can use scows and dredges,instead of railroad cars, we can get rid of the dirt easier. Youboys should have been here when the cut was being dug, before thewater was let in."
"I wish we had been," Blake said. "We could have gotten some dandypictures."
"That's what you could," went on the captain. "It was like lookingat a lot of ants through a magnifying glass. Big mouthfuls of dirtwere being bitten out of the hill by steam shovels, loaded on tocars and the trains of cars were pulled twelve miles away to thedumping ground. There the earth was disposed of, and back came thetrains for more. And with thousands of men working, blasts beingsent off every minute or so, the puffing of engines, the tootingof whistles, the creaking of derricks and steam shovels--why itwas something worth seeing!"
"Sorry we missed it," Joe said. "But maybe we'll get some picturesjust as good."
"It won't be anything like that--not even if there's a big slide,"the captain said, shaking his head doubtfully.
Though the Canal was practically finished, and open to somevessels, there was much that yet remained to be done upon it, andthis work Blake and Joe, with Mr. Alcando to help them at thecameras, filmed each day. Reel after reel of the sensitivecelluloid was exposed, packed in light-tight boxes and sent Northfor development and printing. At times when they remained inCulebra Cut, which they did for two weeks, instead of one, freshunexposed films were received from New York, being brought alongthe Canal by Government boats, for, as I have explained, the boyswere semi-official characters now.
Mr. Alcando was rapidly becoming expert in handling a movingpicture camera, and often he went out alone to film some simplescene.
"I wonder how our films are coming out?" asked Blake one day,after a fresh supply Of reels had been received. "We haven't heardwhether Mr. Hadley likes our work or not?"
"Hard to tell," Joe responded. But they knew a few days later, fora letter came praising most highly the work of the boys and,incidentally, that of Mr. Alcando.
"You are doing fine!" Mr. Hadley wrote. "Keep it up. The pictureswill make a sensation. Don't forget to film the slide if oneoccurs."
"Of course we'll get that," Joe said, as he looked up at thefrowning sides of Culebra Cut. "Only it doesn't seem as if one wasgoing to happen while we're here."
"I hope it never does," declared Captain Watson, solemnly.
As the boys wanted to make pictures along the whole length of theCanal, they decided to go on through the Pedro Miguel andMiraflores locks, to the Pacific Ocean, thus making a completetrip and then come back to Culebra. Of course no one could tellwhen a slide would occur, and they had to take chances of filmingit.
Their trip to Pedro Miguel was devoid of incident. At those locks,instead of "going up stairs" they went down, the level graduallyfalling so their boat came nearer to the surface of the Pacific. Amile and a half farther on they would reach Miraflores.
The tug had approached the central pier, to which it was tied,awaiting the services of the electrical locomotives, when back ofthem came a steamer, one of the first foreign vessels to apply tomake the trip through the Isthmus.
"That fellow is coming a little too close to me for comfort,"Captain Watson observed as he watched the approaching vessel.
Blake and Joe, who were standing near the commander at the pilothouse, saw Mr. Alcando come up the compani
onway and stand on deck,staring at the big steamer. A little breeze, succeeding a deadcalm, ruffled a flag at the stern of the steamer, and the boys sawthe Brazilian colors flutter in the wind. At the same moment Mr.Alcando waved his hand, seemingly to someone on the steamer'sdeck.
"Look out where you're going!" suddenly yelled Captain Watson.Hardly had he shouted than the steamer veered quickly to one side,and then came a crash as the tug heeled over, grinding against theconcrete side of the central pier.
"We're being crushed!" yelled Blake.