CHAPTER XVI.
A DASH OF TABASCO.
In due course the delayed breakfast came up from the torpedo room. Bysome error, Speake had mixed an overdose of tabasco sauce with thecanned beans which he had warmed up on his electric stove.
"Glory!" sputtered Jordan, reaching for water. "Speake must have mixeda Whitehead torpedo in that mess of beans."
"Only a dash of tabasco," replied Coleman. "Haven't you been in CentralAmerica long enough to like hot stuff?"
"Not long enough, anyhow, to acquire an asbestos stomach. Talkingabout a dash of tabasco, though, Motor Matt's raid on the rebels musthave been something of that variety. Reel it off, Matt. We're all goodlisteners."
"You do it, Dick," said Matt. "You were with me and did as much of thework as I did."
"Belay, on that!" remonstrated Dick. "I didn't take care of Ysabelduring that run for the river, did I? And I didn't get that piece oflead through my arm, either."
"You'd hardly know my arm had stopped a bullet, would you?" and Mattshowed his ability to use his left hand with the same ease that he didhis right.
"Don't sidetrack the relish," chirped Jordan. "Let Matt's hot work comeon with the beans. Go on, Matt--or you tell us, Dick, if Matt's toobashful."
Thereupon Dick waded into past events as he and Matt had experiencedthem. He slighted his own deeds to give a greater lustre to Matt's, andfinally Matt, in self-defense, had to take the telling into his ownhands and finish it.
"Well, Jupiter!" exclaimed Jordan, "there's enough tabasco in that runof work to satisfy almost anybody. But, if Motor Matt hadn't come upunder that launch like he did, all of us prisoners, my dear friends,would now be tramping through the jungle toward Pitou's new camp."
"I'm glad that note of mine proved so valuable to us," spoke up Coleman.
"How did you come to lay all that information aboard, Mr. Coleman?"inquired Dick. "It seemed main queer that a prisoner could have gotwise to all that."
"Pitou told me," said Coleman, with a twinkle in his eye, "over a gameof seven-up. He indulged in liquid refreshment, as I remember, and themore he beat me, and the more he indulged, the more confidential hebecame. I knew Pedro was a friend of Ysabel's, and that he was helpingher to leave the camp, so I managed to write down what I had heard,hoping that Ysabel might get to Port Livingstone and give the news tosomebody there who could and would help us."
"You haven't told us, Mr. Jordan," said Matt, "what happened to yourlanding party."
"I hesitate to put it into cold words," answered Jordan, "afterlistening to a recital which shows that you are a general in that sortof affair, Matt, while I am only a private. By rights, my lad, you arethe one who should have gone with that landing party. However, sinceit appears necessary to have our experiences in order to make thetestimony complete, here goes.
"By accident we struck a path. Tirzal said he knew about the path, butI think the good-natured rascal was talking for effect, and that he hadnever seen it before. I was fairly sure in my own mind, mainly becausewe had seen nothing of Fingal's schooner after leaving Belize nor ofa small boat after leaving Port Livingstone, that Fingal and Cassidyhadn't reached the revolutionists and told what they knew. I suspectthat that's what made me careless, for I was that when you considerthat we were out on a reconnoitring expedition and ought to have beenlooking for traps as well as for revolutionists.
"Well, the trap was sprung at a turn in the path. I wasn't able tosee around the turn, and a bunch of colored persons in ragged clotheswere on us before you could say Jack Robinson. This happened quite alittle while after we got away from the boat. As I recollect, we hadreconnoitred, and had been led away from the path on some wild-goosechase or other by Tirzal half a dozen times. I was just thinking aboutreturning to the boat when we pushed around that turn.
"I had time to shoot, and it so happened that I wounded a coloredperson who was a favorite captain of the general's. It wasn't a seriouswound, but the general was pretty badly worked up over it, and Ididn't know but they would stand me against a tree and shoot me out ofhand before I could make the general understand I was in the consularservice. At the right moment, Fingal came up, and he recognizedme. The general was tickled, and felt sure he had enough consularrepresentatives of the United States in his hands to insure the givingup of Jim Sixty. Nice business, eh, Coleman," and Jordan turned asideto his friend, "when it takes two fellows like you and me to make aneven exchange for a fellow like that filibuster?"
"Well," answered Coleman, "Sixty is worth more to the rebels than weare. It's what a thing's worth to somebody else, and not what you thinkit's worth to you, that counts."
"The point's too fine and gets away from me," went on Jordan. "That'sabout all of it, Matt. Poor Tirzal was recognized as a spy, and hewould have been shot quick enough if I hadn't threatened the generalwith all sorts of things if he carried out his intentions. Out ofconsideration for me, Pitou agreed to wait until we got to the new campbefore shooting Tirzal. That's the only thing, Matt, that saved thehalf breed's life."
Matt was beginning to feel the effects of his long period of activeduty without sufficient sleep, and he called Cassidy from the torpedoroom, left him in charge of the _Grampus_, and then lay down on thelocker and was soon slumbering soundly.
When he was awakened it was by Jordan. It was getting along towardevening, and the _Grampus_ was anchored in her old berth off Belize. Asailing ship was alongside to take the passengers ashore.
Jordan, Coleman, Tirzal, Cassidy and Matt were to go, and, of course,Ysabel. Dick was left to look after the submarine.
Ysabel left Matt and the rest at the landing.
"Will I see you again, Matt," she asked, "you and the rest of the motorboys?"
"I hope so, Ysabel," answered the young motorist, "but I also hope wewon't have such rough times when our trails cross again."
"Have I helped you enough to offset what I did in New Orleans?"
"Don't mention that--forget about it. The account is more than square."
"Good-by, then," she called, in a stifled voice, and hurried off alongthe street.
Jordan and Coleman went on to the house where the captain had beentaken, accompanying Matt and Cassidy. The mate was going to presenthimself frankly before the captain, acknowledge his fault and thenabide by the full consequences.
But fate decreed that the matter should turn out otherwise.
The captain, as it chanced, was very much worse and was unable torecognize any one. The doctor averred that the case was not serious,and that, with good nursing, Captain Nemo, Jr., would pull through allright.
"If he wants a nurse, doctor," said Cassidy, "then it's up to me. Itook care of him in New Orleans, the time he was sick there, and Iguess I can do it now better than any one else."
"Then pull off your coat," said the doctor, "and go up to his room."
All this was as it should be. For the present, the _Grampus_ was stillunder Matt's care, and he started back toward the wharf to secure asailboat and return to the submarine.
Jordan and Coleman accompanied him part way, then left him to telegraphtheir report of recent events to Washington.
"We're going to handle you and the _Grampus_ without gloves in thatreport," declared Jordan, with a wink.
"Just so you please the government and make the navy department takethe submarine off the captain's hands," returned Matt, "that's all Icare."
THE END.
Motor Matt's Quest; or Three Chums in Strange Waters Page 17
