SeÑor Cisneros returned from the interior toward the latter end of January, and immediately after the report of the surveyor and the deputy inspector had been filed, a patent was issued to the Bella Mining Company of Callao and New York, to dig ores from the district which had been chartered and to extract precious metals therefrom.

Beyond this action, which secured the claim, nothing could be done until peace should be declared. Hope-Jones and Ferguson undoubtedly had interested capitalists of the United States, but it was impossible for the Englishman and American to reenter Callao; and it was equally impossible for them to communicate with their associates in Peru, because all mail service had ceased with the establishment of the blockade.

The fact that mining operations had been delayed did not greatly inconvenience the Dartmoors, for the banks of Lima were only too glad to come to their assistance. And at that period occurred a demand for agricultural implements, so great that the receiver who had control of the bankrupt hardware store reported rapidly increasing business, notwithstanding the fact that Callao was often under fire; and with the consent of local creditors he engaged the former owner of the establishment to conduct the new trade, which promised soon to pay all indebtedness and leave a profit.

Mr. Dartmoor regretted that he had not sent his wife and children to the States, when he saw how the war promised to drag along; and Captain Saunders was sorry that he had not insisted upon Carl going north with his mother. But the boys were very well satisfied to remain. Not a day passed without some excitement—the firing upon forts and the attacks on war-ships at anchor, and the kaleidoscopic panorama of Lima, which was the centre of a brilliant army corps.

The Dartmoors lived in the capital until the latter part of June, when the bombardments having practically ceased, they reopened the house at Chucuito and lived there part of the time. Mrs. Dartmoor and Rosita would pass several days in each week in the spacious suburban home, returning to Lima in the evening; but Louis and Harvey would frequently remain all night, and usually Carl Saunders was with them. Although the boys enjoyed life in Lima for a season, they were happier near the ocean, for all three were splendid swimmers, and every morning they could run over to the Santa Rosa beach and have a dip before breakfast.

On one of these occasions—it was the morning of July 3—they left home somewhat earlier than usual; indeed, it was a half hour before dawn, for they had been asked to go to Callao immediately after breakfast and assist on their father’s books.

“Whew!” exclaimed Louis, as they emerged from the house. “It’s rather cold for a dip, isn’t it?”

“The water is warmer than the air, fortunately,” said Carl, who had been a visitor for nearly a fortnight with his chums.

“And a brisk run will put us in condition,” added Harvey. “So let’s be off!”

They started at a swinging pace to cover the quarter mile, which was the width of the peninsula at this point, and leaving behind them the rough breakers of Mar Bravo, in which no man could live, they rapidly neared the more peaceful shore on the bay side, where bathing was safe for those who could swim.

But they did not take a “dip” on this morning; instead they became witnesses to a tragedy, one of the tragedies of history.

For, as the lads swung down beneath the Santa Rosa fort, toward the line where the rollers break, they saw a number of forms gathered on the beach, and a sentinel’s call to “halt” brought them to a sudden stand.

An officer came running up, a very small officer, who, as soon as he saw who the intruders were, exclaimed, “Good morning, boys”; and recognizing General Matajente, they at once felt at their ease.

“You are out rather early, are you not?” he asked. “But you are in time to witness something that I am sure will interest you. How would you like to see the Blanco Encalada blown out of water?”

This question was asked in a whisper; and without waiting for it to be answered, the diminutive general turned and walked down to the beach, closely followed by the three thoroughly astonished and interested lads.

A dozen officers and a score of soldiers and sailors were gathered near the water line; but towering above them all was a figure that the boys at once recognized in the growing light, and Harvey, exclaiming: “Why that’s John Longmore! I haven’t seen him since the Huascar was captured!” darted forward and seized his old-time friend by the hand.

The man thus addressed had once been a recluse on San Lorenzo Island, having lived there in solitude from the time of his wife’s death until the outbreak of the war with Chile. He was an American by birth, but he had so loved his Peruvian wife, for whom he had abandoned the sea, that for her sake he had sworn allegiance to this South American country.

When war had been declared he enlisted on board the Huascar and was one of the crew during all her famous engagements. Wounded during the fight off Point Angamos, he was sent home; and soon thereafter he followed Captain Matajente into the ranks of Pierola’s forces, and took part in the famous charge upon the artillery in Lima.

The boys had known him while he lived on San Lorenzo Island, frequently rowing over to the rugged place where his hermit’s hut was perched; they had been with him during some of the exciting scenes of the early war and had witnessed his daring in Lima. But since old John had become a captain in the Peruvian army they had not met him as frequently, and a week before Harvey’s return he had been sent north on recruiting duty; so the lad had not been able to greet him until this morning.

He grasped Harvey cordially by the hand, exchanged a few words with him, then with Carl and Louis, and finally saying, “You are just in time,” he left them to attend to the work in hand.

A remarkable sight met their gaze when they turned from greeting their old-time friend to learn what was going forward. For a space of several yards the beach appeared to have been transformed into a market stall. The sand and stones were covered with meats and fresh vegetables, of a quality that would have made them tempting even before the blockade had transformed ordinary food products into delicacies, and of a quantity that bespoke a large outlay of money. Rich red shoulders of beef, the fat white and firm, told of the slaughter of a young Andean bull; rounded joints of lamb and mutton spoke of importations from the fertile grazing lands of the interior. Quail, snipe, and plover, which all knew must have come from the mountain valleys, were piled promiscuously, and so were barnyard fowl of the western slope. There was much green stuff in sight—corn, sweet potatoes, cauliflower, and beans; baskets were filled with tomatoes, paltas, and the tempting chirimoyas.

The boys looked upon all this in astonishment, marvelling equally concerning the use to which it was about to be put, and the means by which it had been procured. In the rapidly growing light, they saw other strange sights—articles in marked contrast with the wealth of edibles: barrels marked “gunpowder” and kegs filled with even more powerful explosives. Near these was a peculiar machine, resembling druggists’ scales inverted, and minus the weighing pans. Drawn up on the beach, so that only the stern rested in the water, was a large lighter. A number of sentinels surrounded this strange conglomeration and also the soldiers, sailors, and officers of both army and navy, who were gathered near.

“Harvey,” said General Matajente, approaching the boys, “it’s lucky you came. Can you tell us what time the tide turns? Since Captain Longmore and I left the navy, to join the land forces, we have not kept posted on such matters.”

It was not unusual for persons to appeal to the younger Dartmoor boy for information concerning conditions in the bay. For three years before going into the interior, he had made them a special study, and had found that the information so gained aided him greatly when acting as coxswain in regattas. After removing from Lima to Chucuito, he had resumed these observations, probably more from force of habit than other reason, and so he was able to answer promptly, “At twenty-nine minutes after six, sir.”

“Then we have no time to lose. Captain, as this is your idea, I wish you to take command here and carry out your plans.”

At the order from General Matajente, Old John—the boys could not think of him save as Old John, the sailor, although he was now an artillery officer—stepped forward, and by his command work was begun. The object of their endeavor at first puzzled the lads, but in a few minutes all became quite clear.

Sailors and soldiers rolled the barrels and kegs of explosives to the side of the lighter, and the larger ones were lifted into the hull and placed amidships. Also into the hull went Old John, who was handed the peculiar mechanical contrivance, and the boys, who were permitted to peer over the sides, saw him make fast the base to the floor of the craft, then busy himself adjusting the arms, to one of which they saw a spring had been attached. The kegs of explosives were now passed in and placed nearer the peculiar machine than had been the barrels, then Captain Longmore, still remaining within the lighter, directed that the provisions be handed to him.

The more bulky of these, such as the shoulders of beef, were distributed on the bottom of the boat, but arranged in such a manner that portions of their surface would show above the mass of green stuff that was soon thrown in. Although the beef, mutton, potatoes, cauliflower, and the other vegetables were stowed away in bow and stern with apparent carelessness, more attention was given to the placing of the products amidships, in the vicinity of the explosives, and above the mechanism a space about a foot in diameter was kept open.

The game, the fruit, and the smaller vegetables were placed in tempting array on top of the coarser products, and after adjusting the edibles to his satisfaction, John Longmore sprang out and called all the sailors round him.

“Now, in with her, men! But carefully, so as not to dislodge the cargo! Wade out beyond the line of breakers and hold her there, steady, until I come.”

They formed ten deep on each side of the craft, and slowly pushed her down the beach and into the water; then, following orders, they waded out until the bow was about ten feet from shore. The big boat rose and fell on the glassy rollers, and was kept in place by the sailors, who held firmly to the gunwales.

“What time is it, sir?” asked Old John.

“Exactly half-past six,” replied General Matajente.

“Then the tide has turned and is on the ebb. Shall I let her go, sir?”

“Yes, if all is in readiness.”

“In a moment, sir, as soon as I attach this,” and he held up a percussion cap; “and this,” and he displayed a small shoulder of lamb.

Strange combination! thought the boys as they saw these last articles needed to complete the engine of death that was about to be set sailing under the most alluring flag of peace—agriculture; and they watched intently as the gaunt seaman strode through the surf to the side of the lighter, then climbed on board.

The morning was misty, but at such a short distance from shore he was easily discernible, bending over and moving his hands and arms. He was not engaged in this for more than two minutes, then he dropped over the side, and called out, “Push her off, men!”

Old John waded ashore, and the lighter, loaded with explosives and disguised with market gardeners’ truck, with the choice from butchers’ stalls, with delicacies from the fruiterers; yes, even with a few flowers, which were strewn carelessly on top, as if placed there by some one who had given them as a memento to the owner of the cargo—this engine of death drifted slowly into the mist, out toward the sea, borne by the ebb tide.

The artillery captain spoke for a moment with General Matajente, then turned to the boys and bade them good-by, saying that he must go to the castles.

“But first, won’t you please tell us what you did when you went on the lighter while the men were holding her?” asked Harvey. “We saw what was done on shore, but cannot understand what followed.”

“Certainly, my lad. You noticed that I carried a percussion cap and a shoulder of lamb?”

“Yes.”

“I placed the meat on the arm of the machine to which the spring is made fast, and the percussion cap upon an open keg of powder, beneath the other arm. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I think so. When the piece of lamb is lifted the spring will fly up, the opposite arm will descend, explode the cap, and——”

“Exactly,” the captain said.

“But could not a person see all this arrangement and suspect something?” asked Louis. “You left quite a space there.”

“That is all filled in, and I put the most tempting game and fruit right above the powder.”

“Then,” said Carl, slowly, “you expect the boat will drift far out in the bay; will be sighted by one of the ships on blockade; that an attempt will be made to take the stuff on board, and all hands will be blown to kingdom come?”

“That is what I hope, my lad.”

“It’s horrible!” said Harvey.

Old John laughed in a peculiar manner and walked away.

As the boys were going slowly up the beach, Carl said:—

“Did you notice the change in Old John? I believe he’s insane.”

“So do I,” said Louis.

“And I,” echoed Harvey. “The old whaler we once knew on San Lorenzo couldn’t have planned such a trick.”

They had not gone far before they were joined by General Matajente. He walked on in silence until they reached the La Punta road, then they heard him mutter:—

“I don’t like it one bit, boys; I don’t like it one bit.”

“Don’t like what, general?”

“That business down on the beach.”

“Why then did you permit it, sir?”

“Orders, my boy, orders. It was not the old boatswain who suggested the plan to a naval officer, but a captain in the artillery arm who went to headquarters. John Longmore told the people in the palace at Lima of his plan, and I was sent down here to oversee the operations.”

“Then you do not approve of what has been done?”

“Orders, my boy, orders,” was his only reply.