Although the shutters on the balcony window were open, no draught entered the small, bare room and the heat that soaked through the thick walls was nearly intolerable. There was not a sound in the presidio and a drowsy quietness brooded over the dazzling town. It was two o'clock in the afternoon, and the citizens were resting in their darkened houses until the sun got low and work and intrigue began again. Adam and Kit, however, had been talking for some time when the former, leaning back in a big cane chair, frowned at his nephew. His thin face was wet with sweat, but he shivered and his hands shook.

"You can quit arguing; I've got to go," he said. "I don't get much better, anyhow, and can't stand for lying off when there's a big job to be done."

"I believe I could see the job through," Kit answered quietly.

Adam's dull eyes sparkled. "You might; I guess you're anxious to try your powers, but so long as I can get about I'm in command."

"It's doubtful if you can get about," Kit insisted.

"I'm going to try. You'll have a quiet mule ready when it's getting dark, and I'll ride out of town; then, if the saddle shakes me, I'll go in a hammock. You can cut out your objections. The thing's fixed."

"Very well," said Kit. "We had better make for Corrientes, since the point commands the port and the lagoon. Mayne will stop for an hour or two, looking for a signal, when he picks up his marks."

"We'll start for the port and take the other track afterwards. There's no use in telling the opposition where we're going. I imagine they don't know if the Rio Negro has sailed or not."

"For that matter, we don't know," Kit remarked.

"Oh, shucks!" Adam exclaimed. "Mayne understands what we're up against and he'd pull out when he got your telegram. If he can't use his damaged engine, he'll disconnect and bring her along with the other." He stopped Kit with a frown. "If you're going to tell me the Rio Negro can't steam across on one cylinder, you can cut it out. I've taught the men I put in charge that when a job's needful it has got to be done."

He paused and when Kit said nothing, went on quietly: "Well, I reckon Galdar's crowd will expect the boat to make for the port. It's easier to land cargo there and there's a better road. With good luck, we'll have the goods delivered before they know she's gone to the lagoon. Now you can go along and get busy."

Kit went away in a thoughtful mood. He agreed with Adam that secrecy and speed were essential, because if the rebels got a hint of their plans they might strike before Alvarez could ensure the loyalty of his troops by distributing their back pay. Much depended upon which party got in the first blow. In fact, if the guns and money reached the town before the rebels knew they were landed, Kit thought the president's chance of winning was good. All the same, he imagined that Adam, whom the doctor had forbidden to get up, would run a dangerous risk.

At dusk a few barefooted soldiers paraded on the terrace, with two mules and three or four peons. Since it was impossible to evade the watchfulness of Galdar's spies, Adam had resolved to set off openly and not to give them a hint that his journey had an important object by trying to hide it. He mounted awkwardly, with an obvious effort, and when he was in the saddle set his lips for a moment or two. Then he turned to Alvarez and smiled.

"I'm not a back-number yet, but it's lucky the opposition don't know how hard it was for me to get up."

Alvarez made a sign of understanding. "You must dismount as soon as possible. You are very staunch, my friend."

"I've got to make good. If everything is fixed, we'll pull out."

"Adios, seÑores," said Alvarez, taking off his hat. "Much depends on you."

Somebody gave an order, there was a rattle of thrown-up rifles, a patter of naked feet, and the party moved away. Kit, turning after a few moments, looked back. He saw the long, straight building, pierced here and there by lights, rise against the orange sky, and the president's tall figure, conspicuous in white clothes, in front of the arch. His attendants had vanished, he stood motionless, as if brooding, and Kit thought he looked pathetic and lonely. He afterwards remembered his glance at the old presidio.

They rode down a hot street. The moon had not risen and the place was dark except for the feeble gleam of an oil-lamp at a corner. The clatter of the mules' feet on the uneven stones echoed along the walls, and here and there indistinct figures looked out from shadowy doors. For the most part, the watchers let them pass in silence, and although Kit imagined news of their departure would travel fast, he was glad they passed none of the lighted cafÉs and open squares. It would be hard to see who was riding the mules, and while Galdar's spies would probably find out this would need time and time was important.

After leaving the streets, they followed the road to the port for some distance, and then turned into a track that wound along a dark hillside among clumps of trees. When they entered it, Adam stopped his mule and got down awkwardly.

"I've had about as much as I can stand for," he remarked, breathing hard. "Looks as if we had got a start, but I reckon the other lot will try to track us to the port when the moon gets up."

Then with a sigh of relief he lay down in a hammock the peons had got ready, and when two of the latter took up the poles they went on again.

On the second night after leaving the presidio, Kit sat on the coaming of a small steam launch that lurched across the long undulations rolling in from the Caribbean. It had been blowing fresh, and although the wind had dropped the swell ran high. When the launch swung up, a vague, hazy smear rather suggested than indicated land astern; the sea ahead was dark, but in one place a faint reflection on the sky told that the moon would soon rise. Although the beach was some distance off, a dull monotonous rumble, pierced now and then by the clank of the launch's engines, hinted at breaking surf. The furnace door was open and the red light touched Adam's face as he sat, supported by a cushion, in a corner of the cockpit. He looked very haggard and Kit thought him the worse for his journey.

"The light's in my eyes, but there was nothing on the skyline a minute or two ago," Kit remarked. "It will be awkward if Mayne doesn't get across. You seem persuaded he'll come."

"I know he'd start. We can't tell what may have happened afterwards and there was more wind than I liked. He'll be here on time, if he's been able to keep the old boat off the ground."

"Time is getting short. I expect the rebels have found out we're not at the port and Galdar will have the road watched when the news gets to the town. It might pay him to risk forcing a conflict if he could seize the convoy, and I'll feel happier when the guns and money are off our hands. It will be the president's business to look after them then."

"That's so," Adam agreed. "Our part of the job's to land the goods and it's unlucky the tides are small. There won't be much water on the shoals and although we'll have an extra few inches tomorrow, I don't want Mayne to wait."

Kit pondered, for he had taken some soundings when coming out. They were probably not correct, because the launch had rolled among the white combers that swept the shoals while he used the lead, but the average depth was about the steamer's draught in her usual trim. Mayne, however, ought to know what depth to expect, and Kit hoped he had loaded the vessel to correspond. By and by the mulatto fireman shut the furnace door, the puzzling light was cut off, and Kit searched the horizon. For some minutes, he saw nothing; and then a trail of red fire soared into the sky.

"He's brought her across," said Adam. "Get our rocket off."

The rocket swept up in a wide curve and burst into crimson lights. After this there was darkness for a time until an indistinct black object appeared against the brightening sky. Then the launch sank back into the trough, where the gloom was only broken by the glimmer of the phosphorescence that spangled the water. When she swung up on the top of the next swell the steamer was plainer and Kit blew the whistle as he changed their course.

When the moon rose slowly out of the sea he stopped the clanking engine and the launch reeled up and down, some fifty yards off the steamer. The _Rio Negro _carried no lights, but the phosphorescence shone upon her wet plates as she rolled them out of the water. Her side rose high and black, and then sank until her rail was nearly level with the spangled foam. Indistinct figures scrambled about her deck, and when Kit sheered the launch in, her ladder went down with a rattle. A half-breed on board the launch caught it with his boat hook, and Adam stood at the bow, waiting for a chance to jump upon the narrow platform that lurched up above him and then plunged into the sea. Kit felt anxious. He did not think Adam was equal to the effort and dreaded the consequences of the shock if he missed and fell.

"Stand by!" he shouted to the seaman on the ladder when the Rio Negro steadied after a violent roll; and then touched Adam. "Now; before she goes back!"

Adam, jumping awkwardly, seized the seaman's hand, and Kit, leaning out, pushed him on to the platform as it began to sink. Then he jumped and coming down in a foot or two of water helped Adam to the deck. Mayne met them at the gangway and took them to his room, where Adam sat down and gasped. When Mayne poured out some liquor he clutched the glass with a shaking hand. After he drained it he was silent for a moment or two; and then asked in a strained voice: "Have you brought the goods?"

"Got them all. We hadn't a nice trip. Don't know how Finlay kept her going and I thought I'd lost her on Tortillas reef; but we can talk about that afterwards."

Adam made a sign of satisfaction and leaned back feebly. "It's some relief to know the goods are here."

"Finlay can drive her seven knots and has plenty steam," Mayne said to
Kit. "I'm bothered about the water; there won't be too much."

Kit asked the vessel's draught and looked thoughtful when he heard what it was.

"I can't guarantee my soundings, but imagine she won't float across and an ugly sea is running on the bar."

"She'll certainly hit the bottom and the chances are she hits it hard," Mayne remarked when Kit told him the depth he had got. "I expect, too, the mist will drift off from the mangroves with the land-breeze and hide our marks." He paused and glanced at Adam, who leaned back in a corner with his eyes half shut.

"But I reckon we have got to take her in?"

"Yes," said Adam dully. "Leave me alone; you can fix things with Kit."

Mayne beckoned Kit and they went to the bridge. The moon had risen and threw a belt of silver light across the sea, but it was a half moon and would not help them much. Ahead, in the distance, gray haze obscured the water, and the dull roar that came out of the mist had become distinct. Mayne rang his telegraph to reduce the speed.

"So far as I can reckon, it won't be high-water for most two hours, and on this coast you can't calculate just how much the tide will rise. There's going to be trouble if we find it shoaler than we expect and I had plenty trouble coming along. Finlay could hardly drive her four knots in last night's breeze and the current put us on Tortillas reef. She stopped there twenty minutes, jambed down on her bilge while the sea came on board."

Kit noted two boats that had obviously been damaged while the steamer
hammered on the reef, and the white crust of salt on the funnel; but
Mayne resumed: "Say, the old man looks shaky; never seen him like that.
You want to get him home."

"He won't go. However, he's rather worse tonight. I think he was anxious about your turning up in time to catch the tide. The journey tried him and now a reaction has begun."

"Well, I allow there's not much use in arguing if he means to stay; but he needn't have bothered about my getting across. When the orders came, I knew I had to bring her or pile her up. What Askew says goes."

They were silent for a time while the Rio Negro, with engines throbbing slowly, crept towards the coast. The land breeze brought off a steamy heat and a sour smell. The long undulations were wrinkled by small waves, and a thin low haze that obscured the moon spread across the water. Kit, looking up now and then, could see the mastheads swing across the sky. There was, however, nothing to be seen ahead but a gray line that moved back as the steamer went on.

"It's sure a blamed bad night for our job," Mayne remarked as he gazed towards the hidden land. "I'm glad I told your dagos to burn a flare when they hit the channel."

Kit said nothing. The launch had vanished, and there was no guiding light in the mist. The turmoil of the surf had got louder and rang through the dark like the roar of a heavy train. Presently Mayne ordered a sounding to be taken and looked at Kit when the leadsman called the depth.

"A foot less than we reckoned, and there won't be much rise. I don't like it, Mr. Askew, and if my employer was not your uncle, I'd heave the old boat round."

Kit nodded sympathetically. He felt he hated the smothering haze that rolled in front and hid the dangers, but they must go on and trust to luck. He knew Adam's plans and no arguments would shake his resolve. Half an hour later a twinkle broke out some distance ahead and Mayne rang his telegraph.

"I'm thankful for that, anyhow," he remarked. "We'll let her go, but I have my doubts about what will happen next."

The throb of engines quickened, the gurgle of water got louder at the bows, and the Rio Negro, lurching sharply, went shorewards with tide and swell. The twinkle vanished and reappeared, to starboard now, and chains rattled as the quartermaster pulled round the wheel. Then the light faded and they were left without a guide in the puzzling haze. Ten minutes afterwards there was a heavy shock, and a rush of foam swept the rail as the steamer listed down. She lifted and struck again with a jar that tried Kit's nerve. A hoarse shout came from the forecastle and men ran about the slanted deck as a frothing sea rolled on board. Mayne, clutching his telegraph, beckoned Kit.

"Bring Mr. Askew up. He's got to tell me what I am to do."

Kit met Adam clumsily climbing the ladder and when he helped him to the bridge Mayne remarked: "She's on the tongue shoal. Don't know if I can back her off and steam out to deep water, but, if you consent, I want to try."

"I won't consent," said Adam. "We're going in! What's that light to starboard?"

"The launch; she's in the channel. I doubt if there's water enough for us, if we can get there."

"Then, shove her across the sand or let her go to bits."

Mayne rang the telegraph and touched his cap. "Very well! She's your ship, and we have some sound boats left."

For the next ten minutes Kit clung to the bridge. He wanted to help Adam into the pilot-house, but the old man waved him off. Clouds of spray swept the vessel and made it hard to see her rail where the white combers leaped. Now and then one broke on board and poured in a foaming torrent across the slanted deck; she trembled horribly as she struck the sand. It looked as if she were driving sideways across the shoal, but the flare on the launch had gone out and Kit doubted if Mayne knew where he was.

Sometimes the tall, black forecastle swung in a quarter-circle; sometimes the stern went round. For the most part, however, she lay with her side to the rollers and it was plain that the struggle could not last long. If they did not get off in a few minutes, rivets would smash and butts open, and one must take one's chances in the boats. Two were damaged, but others might be launched, and Kit was relieved to note that two or three deck-hands moved about as if engaged in clearing the davit-tackles. He sympathized with the men, although he did not think Mayne had given them orders.

In the meantime, Adam clung to the rails, swaying when the bridge slanted, but looking unmoved, and Kit knew that so long as the Rio Negro's engines turned he would go on. It was not for nothing men called him the Buccaneer, and now that he was staking his life and fortune on a hazardous chance there was something daunting about his grim resolve.

A sea rolled up astern and buried the poop. Kit felt the steamer lift and turn, as if on a pivot at the middle of her length. The after-deck was full of water, but the bows were high and going round, and he was conscious of a curious shiver that ran through the straining hull as she shook herself free from the sand. She crawled forward, stopped, and moved again with a staggering lurch. The next sea swept her on, but she did not strike, and after a few moments Kit knew she had crossed the top of the shoal.

Her whistle shrieked above the turmoil of the sea, a light blinked in the spray, and she lurched on before the tumbling combers. By and by the water got smooth and an indistinct dark mass grew out of the mist. Mayne, who was pacing up and down his bridge, stopped near Kit with a reckless laugh.

"This is the kind of navigation they break skippers for! If those are the mangroves on False Point, I may take her in; if they're not, we'll make a hole in the forest."

Kit looked about, but could not see the launch. The dark mass was a thick belt of trees, but he did not know, and did not think Mayne knew, where they were, and the easy motion indicated that the tide was carrying the steamer on. Much to his relief, the indistinct wall of forest seemed to bend back, away from the sea. It looked as if they were entering the lagoon; and then he heard the telegraph and the rattle of rudder chains.

The screw shook the vessel as it spun hard-astern, and the bows began to swing. It was, however, too late; the forecastle would not clear the mangroves, and Kit knew the water was deep among their roots. Shouting to Adam, he seized the rails and waited for the shock. It came, for there was a crash, and a noise of branches breaking. The steamer rolled, recoiled, and forged on into the forest.

Some minutes later, Mayne stopped his engines and there was a curious quietness as he came up to Adam.

"We are fast in the mud, sir. Although she'll take a list when the tide falls, we may be able to work cargo. I'll lay out an anchor in the morning and try to heave her off, but I calculate it will be full moon before she floats."