  Nicky, held, as he was, between two pairs of strong arms, with Mr. Coleson on one side of him and Tew on the other, saw that Lieutenant Sommerlee, with his two patrols in the cutter, was “in a fix.” It was plainly to be seen that the naval man did not dare to open fire, because of the threat to Nicky; nor did he dare to approach. The lieutenant had prolonged the parley, making offers and trying, by threat, by pleading, by persuasion, to induce the desperate crew of El Libertad to see reason, to give themselves up. Nicky had somewhat loosened the rope around his wrists, but he did not let this be known because he knew that he could not make his escape and he wanted to save his strength for a surprise at a more advantageous time. Tom, flopping his wet, naked body onto the after deck and tumbling unceremoniously into the cockpit, turned every man’s attention in that direction. “So help me!” shouted Tew, “it’s a mermaid—no, a merman—what’s come floppin’ aboard.” He released one of Nicky’s arms and crawled aft. Don Ortiga still kept Nicky covered with his weapon, a menacing glow in his eyes. All of the crew crouched because they did not want to risk the chance of an unexpected shot from the cutter. Crawling to where the engineer was rocking the flywheel, getting the engine to start again, Tew confronted Tom. “What brought you aboard?” he demanded. “I came to be with my chum!” declared Tom. “If you’ll let me get Mr. Coleson’s jumper out of the engine locker, I’ll thank you.” Tew nodded and Tom secured the jumper with which to cover his body. Lieutenant Sommerlee saw the naked body land on El Libertad and realized that it was Tom’s, but did not see why the boy had deliberately gone into danger. However, as attention seemed to be distracted from him he seized the opportunity to make a sign to the man at the cutter’s engine and that sailor, with careful hand, advanced his throttle, so that the engine got more gas and picked up. The cutter began to nose in to closer quarters with the white boat. At the same time Senor Ortiga drew a weapon and pointed it toward Tom. “You come forward,” he commanded. “Tew—or somebody—tie him up.” “All right, if you think I can do any harm,” said Tom quietly, “but take that handkerchief out of Nicky’s mouth. What can he do by talking that can hurt you? It’s simply cruelty to gag him!” “Take it out!” snapped Don Ortiga. “We don’t intend to be cruel, but you fellows are interfering with us and we are going to use you to cover our escape—then we will see what to do with you later.” “All right,” agreed Tom, pretending to extend his arms toward Tew. “Keep away!” shouted Senor Ortiga to the cutter. But she had headway and was coming on. Lieutenant Sommerlee had decided that he must risk the possibility of harm to the boys—he held that they would hesitate a long moment before they would stain their hands with a crime against life. In that he was right, because the most hardened criminals are really cowards and, unless maddened or morally perverted, they will be more afraid of death than of imprisonment, and will weigh their chances of escape to the last instant before actually committing a major crime. Nicky, seeing that his chance might have come, suddenly wrenched his shoulder out of the grip of the sailor, at the same instant giving the sailor a thrust with his hands, and ripping them free of the rope. The sailor staggered, being off balance in his crouching position; he cannoned against Don Ortiga. Tom, fastening the strap of the jumper he had donned, saw Nicky’s move, and, being upright, saw Lieutenant Sommerlee rise in the cutter and take aim at one of the men. With a catlike leap he sprang against Tew, knocking him off his feet against the engineer; the two men clutched one another for support. Tom, his plan of action made sure, had seen a wrench lying on the floor. For this he reached; he got it in his hand and arose. He turned toward the engine. The wrench rose in the air and came down with all Tom’s force, sidewise, toward the carbureter. But Tew had divined his purpose and with a superhuman effort caught the swinging arm and by his superior strength diverted the blow enough so that it clanged harmlessly against the water-cooling outer casing of the motor. Tom, seeing the futility of his blow, released the wrench. As he sprang back there came a report from the cutter. But at the same instant Don Ortiga fired back, crying “Down—flat—everybody!” They all crouched. “Jump—Nicky!” cried Tom. “Jump overboard.” Nicky leaped onto the cushioned side seat and tried to elude the gripping hands. Tom, on his end of the cabin floor, made a similar effort. The engine roared as contact was made, and the Libertad, gathering headway, swung her nose and made straight for the cutter. Lieutenant Sommerlee and his two men were firing, but while woodwork in the cabin window sashes flew in splinters, they had to fire carefully so as not to touch the two boys. Tom and Nicky were struggling, each caught by the legs. They strove manfully against the heavy odds, but while the men dared not show their heads, or expose their bodies to the fire from the cutter, they could drag at the boys in safety. The uneven struggle lasted only a moment and the boys were lying, pinioned, panting, helpless on the cabin floor. The Libertad, veering suddenly, made a sweeping curve, turning aside from the cutter. In the position which the cutter was faced, coming head-on, she had to pass astern of the Libertad before her men could control the tiller and turn her rudder. Nicky and Tom, lying on the floor, could not see; but they heard the foul words of the Libertad’s crew and saw the flashes of their weapons. Directed against the three in the cutter, their superior fire was a menace that Lieutenant Sommerlee could not overcome; before he could, under the circumstances, get the cutter around, El Libertad was racing, full speed, for the channel that led outward. The cutter came on, but the Libertad had the headway and the advantage of her straight course while the cutter had to swing in a wide circle before she could take full advantage of her speed. “You boys will be sorry for what you tried,” grated Don Ortiga. “We’re sorry now,” said Tom shortly. “We are sorry that we tried to get away.” “Yes,” panted Nicky, “we ought to have succeeded.” He turned his head toward Tom, his lips shaped words, but only Tom, reading his lips, got the message. “There’s only one hope,” Nicky’s lips formed, “Cliff!” |
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