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THE HERO OF PANAMA

A Tale of the Great Canal

by

CAPTAIN F. S. BRERETON

Author of "Under the Chinese Dragon," "Tom Stapleton, the Boy
Scout," "The Great Aeroplane," "Indian and Scout," &c.

Illustrated by William Rainey, R.I.







Blackie and Son Limited
London Glasgow and Bombay
1912




[Illustration: JIM RESCUES PHINEAS BARTON]




Contents


     CHAP.                                              PAGE

        I. A POST OF RESPONSIBILITY                        9

       II. EN ROUTE FOR NEW YORK                          23

      III. JIM PARTINGTON SHOWS HIS METTLE                40

       IV. RELATING TO PHINEAS BARTON                     59

        V. THE WAYS OF THE STEAM DIGGER                   77

       VI. A SHOT IN THE DARK                             95

      VII. THE LAIR OF THE ROBBERS                        114

     VIII. IN HOT PURSUIT                                 133

       IX. JIM BECOMES A MECHANIC                         152

        X. RUNNING THE GAUNTLET                           171

       XI. BARELY ESCAPED                                 192

      XII. AN AMERICAN UNDERTAKING                        215

     XIII. HUSTLE THE ORDER OF THE DAY                    235

      XIV. THE RUNAWAY SPOIL TRAIN                        256

       XV. JAIME DE OTEROS FORMS PLANS                    276

      XVI. THE MAJOR FORMS HIS PARTIES                    297

     XVII. ON THE TRACK OF MISCREANTS                     317

    XVIII. RESCUE BY MOONLIGHT                            337

      XIX. JIM MEETS WITH A SURPRISE                      357

       XX. SUCCESS TO THE PANAMA CANAL                    375




Illustrations


                                                        Page

JIM RESCUES PHINEAS BARTON _Frontispiece_                 46

"STAND AWAY FROM THOSE BOATS"                             32

JIM IN A TIGHT CORNER                                    118

WAITING FOR THE ENEMY                                    150

ATTACKED BY NATIVES                                      212

"JIM TUGGED WITH ALL HIS MIGHT"                          262

THE RESCUE OF SADIE                                      338

"IT'S GEORGE, GEORGE COME BACK TO LIFE!"                 358




THE HERO OF PANAMA

[Illustration: The PANAMA CANAL]




CHAPTER I

A Post of Responsibility


It was one of those roasting days in the Caribbean, when, in spite of a
steady trade wind, the air felt absolutely motionless, and the sea took
on an oily surface from which the sun flashed in a thousand directions,
in rays that seemed to have been lent some added fierceness by the
reflection.

Squish! Squelsh! The ground surf, which was hardly perceptible from the
coast, and scarcely so from the deck of a liner, was apparent enough
from the old tub which wallowed in it. She rolled in a manner that was
sickening to behold, until at times her scupper ports took in water,
then a surge of the ocean would take her in a different direction; she
would dive forward, dipping her nose in the oily sea till the hawser
which had been passed out over her stern, secured to a large anchor,
brought her up with a jerk and tumbled her backwards with her stern rail
awash.

Ugh! It was enough to make a white man groan. Even a <DW65> would have
been inclined to grumble. But the Chinamen aboard the tub seemed, if
anything, rather to enjoy this rocking. One of them stood almost
amidships, his feet wide apart to preserve his balance, while he gripped
the handle of the pump he was working, and turned it over and over with
a monotonous regularity that seemed to match with his surroundings.

The man, who was barefooted, boasted of the very lightest of clothing,
and wore his pigtail rolled in a coil at the back of his head. Other
protection against the roasting sun he had none. Indeed, to look at him,
he hardly seemed to need it, while the hot blast which came from the
adjacent land passed over him without any apparent effect. Ching Hu was
in his element.

"Nicee place, missee," he sang out after a while. "Plenty nicee and
warmee. Stay long? No? Velly solly."

On he went, turning the handle without a pause, while there crept into
his slanting eyes just a trace of disappointment. He sighed ever so
gently, then assumed his accustomed expression. Not the wisest man in
all the world could have said whether Ching Hu were happy or otherwise.

Just about ten feet from him, sheltered beneath a narrow awning of dirty
canvas, a girl stood on the deck of the small ship, or, rather, she
occupied a projection which overhung the water. Had this vessel been a
liner, one would have guessed that this projection was the gangway from
which the ladder descended towards the water to enable passengers to
come aboard. But here a rapid inspection proved it to be merely a
platform built out from the side, and suspended some eight feet from the
surface of the ocean. From it a clear view of the ship's side was to be
obtained, and, in these wonderfully clear waters, of the sandy bottom of
the lagoon at whose entrance the vessel was moored. And it was upon the
latter, upon the bottom of this heaving ocean, that Sadie Partington's
eyes were directed.

"Ching," she called out suddenly, turning towards him, "I think they'll
be coming up right now. Call the boys."

"You sure, missee? Yes? Velly well."

Ching Hu raised his eyebrows quaintly as he asked the question, and on
receiving a nod from the girl, who at once turned to stare into the
water, he raised his voice and called aloud in a sing-song style which
would have made a stranger laugh. "Tom, Tom!" he shouted. "You comee now
wid Sam. Wanted plenty soon."

A black face popped instantly from the caboose leading to the cabin--a
big, round face, the face of a <DW64> of some thirty years of age. Then
the shoulders came into view, and following them the whole figure of the
man. He stood for a moment or two on the topmost step, balancing himself
against the edge of the caboose, one hand gripping a plate, while the
other vigorously polished it with a cloth. It gave one an opportunity of
thoroughly inspecting this <DW64>, and promptly one was filled with a
feeling of pleasure. It was not because Tom was handsome, for he was the
reverse of that. Nature had, indeed, liberally provided him with nose
and lips, so much so that those two portions of his physiognomy were
the most prominent at first sight. But if his nose were somewhat
flattened and decidedly wide, and his lips undoubtedly big and
prominent, Tom was possessed of other features which counterbalanced
these detractions. His eyes seemed to attract attention at once. They
seemed to smile at all and sundry on the instant, and flash a message to
them. They were shining, honest eyes, which looked as if they could do
nothing else but smile. Then the man's mouth completed his appearance of
joviality; between the lips a gleaming double row of ivories were always
to be seen, for Tom's smile was permanent. The smallest matter was
sufficient to increase it, when the <DW64>'s ample face would be divided
by a gaping chasm, a six-foot smile that could not be easily
banished--the prelude to a roar of mirth and of deep-toned, spontaneous
laughter. As for the rest of him, Tom was a monster. Six-feet-three in
height, he was broad and thickset, and beside the dainty figure of Sadie
Partington had the appearance of a veritable elephant.

"What you say, Chinaboy?" he asked, regarding the placid individual
working the pump. "Come plenty soon, eh?"

"Ye-e-s. Missee say now."

"Den dinner be spoiled for sure. Taters boiled to rags ef I wait little
minute. Stew no good ef left on fire for longer dan five minute. Missee,
what you say dey doin'? They ain't gwine ter move yet?"

"Call Sam; you know as well as I do that the stew won't be spoiled. Come
now, they're going to signal."

Sadie turned upon the <DW64> with a frown, then again bent her eyes
towards the bottom of the sea; for the girl was always ill at ease when
the divers were working. Somehow or other, since her brothers had taken
to this particular profession--and she had accompanied them upon their
various trips--she had felt impelled to take upon herself the duty of
watching them at work. She was only eleven now, though tall and old for
her age, and for a year past she had almost daily taken her post on that
tiny gangway to watch the two figures moving in the water below. For
hours together she would be on the deck of this little boat, careless of
the sun and heat, superintending the action of the pump and waiting for
signals from the divers. And to Ching Hu, Tom, and the others her
veriest nod was law. It was useless to argue with her: Sadie had a way
of stamping her small foot which meant a great deal, and set all the men
running to do her bidding. It was, therefore, with some show of alacrity
that Tom prepared to follow his instructions.

"You Chinaboy," he commanded, grinning at a second Chinaman, who
occupied the little galley down below, "yo make sure not boil de taters
too much, and sniff dat stew. Not burn um, or, by de poker, Tom make yo
smile. Yo comprenez what I say? Eh?"

He grinned one of his most expansive grins, and the Chinaman responded
in a similar manner. He jerked his head in Tom's direction, thrusting it
out of the galley door as he did so, and sending his pigtail flying. His
little, pig-like eyes rolled while he brandished an enormous wooden
spoon. "Ling knowee eberyting," he lisped. "See to dinner fine. Hab de
stew beautiful."

"Den yo come along, yo Sam, lazy feller," shouted Tom at the pitch of
his voice. "Whar yo got to, boy? I gives yo de biggest--oh, so yo dare!"
he exclaimed, as a <DW64> came from the after gangway, where a small
ladder led to some of the men's quarters. "Yo's been sleepin'."

Tom held out an accusing finger, and gripped his comrade by the bare
arm; for, without shadow of doubt, Sam's eyes were blinking. He had the
appearance of a man who has just awakened. But the <DW64> shook his head
vigorously.

"Yo let go my arm, Tom, yo big elephant," he said, grinning widely.
"I'se been down b'low fetchin' a bucket o' coal. What yo want?"

"Missie dar order us both; de boys is comin' up."

Tom still gripped the second <DW64>, and playfully lifted him from off
his feet as if he were merely a child, then he set him down against the
ship's rail, while the two at once stared into the water. Truly they
might have been described as brothers, so very alike were Tom and Sam in
appearance. In fact, had their two heads been alone protruding from a
window even Sadie would have been troubled to distinguish between them;
but the similarity ended with the faces. Tom was huge, Sam was barely
five feet in height, and slim in proportion; but he seemed to have
inherited all the dignity which Tom had missed. Merry enough at all
times, Sam was inclined to be a trifle pompous, and of a Sunday, when in
port, his get-up generally was sufficient to open the eyes of everyone
who beheld him. Now, however, his feet were bare, and he wore but a
shirt and loose cotton trousers.

Let us join them at the rail and stare over into the water. Beneath the
oily surface a wide stretch of yellowish-white sand was spread out on
every hand, till it became a greenish tinge, and was finally lost in the
blurr of the ocean; but directly beneath the ship it sparkled in the
sun, while one could easily see the tiniest prominence, the few rocks
existing here and there, and the deep shadow of the ship riding to her
anchors. A derrick was rigged out over the rail, close to the platform
occupied by Sadie, and from this was suspended a long wooden ladder,
with ponderous weights attached to its lower end. Close at hand, through
a sort of stirrup, passed a couple of ropes, while the piping conveying
air to those below ran out over the gangway. It was there, too, that the
smaller signal lines were attached.

As Tom and Sam looked over, their eyes caught the reflection from two
metal objects down below, and very soon the latter became apparent as
the helmets of the divers. They could see the two--for there were that
number at work--seated on a huge boulder, side by side, while within
some fifteen feet of them were the broken timbers and debris of what had
once upon a time been a vessel.

"They've sat like that this past fifteen minutes," explained Sadie.
"Seems that there's nothing to be found in the wreck. They'll be wanting
to be hauled aboard in a minute. There's George moving."

As she spoke, one of the helmets swung slowly backwards, while the eyes
inside peered aloft. Then there came a jerk at the life line. Sadie
instantly responded.

"Coming up," she said. "Get a hold of the tackle, boys."

She still kept her place, superintending operations, while Tom and Sam
together gripped the tackle, and, having pulled gently at first, began
to haul lustily. In a little while one of the divers had reached the
foot of the weighted ladder. At once the tackle was slacked off, while
all watched the man slowly ascending from the depths, dipping deeper as
the swell rolled the ship, and coming nearer the surface as she returned
to an even keel. Then, with a squelch, the top of the shining helmet
broke through the surface, the man reached the rail, and was lifted
aboard. Sadie proceeded at once to loosen the screws securing the helmet
to the rest of the dress, and lifted the huge metal globe from off the
shoulders of the seated man.

"What luck, George?" she asked impetuously, staring anxiously into his
face, and noticing how tired the man seemed, and how sallow he was. "You
found something? It's going to pay?"

"Not if we work a year at it," came the answer in a dull, despondent
tone of voice. "Help me to get this dress off, Sadie, my dear. I'm
burning in it. I've felt smothered, so hot that I couldn't work down
below. Jim's coming up at once."

The second diver was, in fact, already being hauled up, and anyone who
happened to have watched the first make his ascent from the depths would
at once have remarked the difference between the two. For the diver who
now sat on a box on the swaying deck of the small vessel was bigger
than he who was ascending; at the same time his movements had been far
less active. The one now nearing the top of the ladder clambered up the
rungs with the agility of a cat, in spite of the fact that every foot he
rose made the weights he carried on his back and chest and on his boots
all the heavier. His helmet shot out of the water with a burst, as the
vessel rolled heavily, pulling the ladder up, only to throw it back at
once.

"You hold on dar tight, yo, Massa Jim," shouted Tom, as he leaned over
the rail. "Yo tink dis all a beanfeast. Not so when de ship roll so
much. S'pose yo lose de hold. Buzz! Yo go right down to de bottom and
stay dere fer good. Huh! Come in."

He gripped the extended hand of the diver, hauled the boy aboard, and
promptly seated him on a second box. Three minutes later the helmet was
off, and one had an opportunity of contrasting the young fellow who had
appeared with the diver who had first of all ascended.

The latter was a young man of twenty-five perhaps, and, as we have said,
was decidedly sallow and unhealthy-looking; in fact, natural good looks
were marred not a little by his complexion. But with the one who had
been addressed as Jim it was different. The young fellow was barely
seventeen years of age, and his rosy cheeks displayed the fact that
diving did not disagree with him. Then, too, his voice was so different.
It was crisp and laughing, and anything but despondent; while, when he
had rid himself of his diving weights and of his heavy boots, and was
on his feet, one saw that he was of a good height, held himself well,
and moved with the quick step that one might have expected from having
seen him clamber from the depths of the ocean. But there was concern in
his face when Sadie called him.

"George don't feel over well, Jim," she called out. "He said a minute
back that he was burning hot; now he's downright shivering."

