Wild Norene/Chapter 10
CHAPTER X.
When Death Is Faced.
THE gunboat was sending a shower of shells toward the shore, where the revolutionists had been awaiting the landing of the cargo.
On the Amingo's deck another scene was being enacted. The cases that had been lowered to the small boat were on deck again, guarded by the Mexicans—Captain Bill Adams had been "caught with the goods."
They had searched the cabins and had found Captain Bill bound and helpless in his bunk, cursing at the top bf his voice in an effort to attract attention.
This had puzzled Garza, and now all of them were on deck, and he was trying to work out a solution to the puzzle. Guerrero and Riney had been sent to the gunboat as prisoners. Sally Woods's body had been carried to one side and covered.
Captain Adams, Connor, Wild Norene and the men of the crew stood under guard, awaiting the pleasure of the Mexican officer.
"I'll make him suffer for it!" Captain Bill was shouting. "Mutiny on the high seas! Make me a lawbreaker, will he?"
"Calm yourself, Captain Adams, and let us get at the straight of it," Garza ordered.
The captain sputtered a bit, as if in rage, and then complied, darting glances of venom at Connor, meanwhile.
"I can see now it's all a put-up job!" he said. "In the first place. I'll admit I've run guns before, but never into Mexico. Only into little two-by-four countries of Central America. I stopped that sort of business some years ago; I'm an honest skipper handling lumber principally.
"I was loading lumber in Portland when I was approached by a member of the junta. He said his name was Gonzales—that's Spanish for Smith, I guess. He made his little proposition, without saying exactly where the stuff was to be landed, and I turned him down flat—told him I was done with that sort of thing."
Garza grinned.
"I'm telling the truth, as you'll soon have reason to believe. I went on loading lumber at Portland. This man, Jack Connor by name, came to me one day and said he understood I was going to carry lumber to Mazatlan. He said he was a sailorman, but had come into a bit of money and was buying an interest in a Mexican mine.
"He had some machinery he wanted to ship. Part of it was in a lumber camp on the Columbia, he said. Would I carry it for him, and land it here—at this place?
"I told him yes. Everything seemed all right, and we stopped on our way down the river to Astoria and took his stuff aboard. My papers are all right, and the packing-cases look like machinery to me.
"I went on to Astoria and tied up, to sail a couple of days later after I'd taken on some supplies. There I met Guerrero. He wanted passage to Mazatlan, and I told him I didn't carry passengers. He offered me big money, because he said he was in a hurry and didn't want to go to Frisco and wait for a regular steamer. I agreed to take him.
"I can see now how they worked it, and how they made it look. Guerrero hung around me, and I suppose you spotted him and thought I was carrying contraband. My old mate, that fellow Riney, had a grudge against me, but I kept him because he was a good man.
"One day in Astoria, Guerrero told me my mate wasn't honest. I asked what he meant. He said you were in Astoria trying to lease a small ship for your government; that you were the whole thing in Mazatlan and were a dirty grafter. He said Riney was to meet you, and the two of you were to work up some scheme to libel the Amingo at Mazatlan, and Riney was to have a share of the graft.
"I think he said the idea was to confiscate the schooner and divide the money you would have paid out if you'd bought a ship.
"Wait a moment now before you smile like that. I went to the resort with Guerrero where Riney was to meet you. You began talking, and before you'd got down to bedrock this man Jack Connor pitched into Riney for some reason and beat him up. Riney saw me watching him, and I think he guessed I was on to him, for he sneaked away.
"Then this man Connor told me he would act as my mate until we got to Mazatlan, then run back to this cove on some little boat. I was to deduct regular mate's wages from what I charged him for handling his machinery. I was anxious to sail, and I took him up."
"Well?"
"Let me get this straight now," said the captain. "Riney's wife was a stowaway, came aboard expecting to find him and make things hot for him—so that explains her presence.
"We turned in toward the cove last night, and I went down to the cabin with Connor for him to pay me for hauling his stuff. That was the arrangement. He was to go on to Mazatlan, though, then come back. I wanted my freight money before that cargo was put ashore, of course.
"When we got to the cabin and I was looking for my papers, he knocked me down, bound me, and tied me in my bunk. Then he came on deck and brought the schooner here to anchor, and began getting the cargo overside. He boasted to me when he tied me, that the cargo was arms and ammunition; that he was getting a pretty penny for running it in, and that I had been fooled and was getting just ordinary freight rates.
"The men obeyed him, of course, for he was the mate, and they didn't ask questions because I didn't come on deck. Then the gunboat came, and you had the row. Connor led the fighting, didn't he? Because he knew What he was up against! And you found me bound in my berth, didn't you?
"Connor is the man you want. He's your filibuster. Punish him for it, and welcome, for he made my ship a dishonest vessel in spite of me. You can take the rest of us to Mazatlan for trial, if you want. I can prove my innocence. Question the crew, if you like!"
Garza grinned again.
"That story doesn't sound good."
"Why did you find me bound then? Why wouldn't I be on deck putting up a fight? You know my history. Do you think you'd have taken this ship so easily if I'd been running guns?"
"There's something in that," the Mexican officer said.
He turned and looked at Connor.
"What have you to say?" he demanded.
Connor had been thinking swiftly. Captain Bill had plotted well. He could send Connor before an execution squad.
"I've nothing to say," Connor growled.
"You admit it is true?"
"I'm not talking!"
Garza faced Captain Bill again.
"If this is true, I am glad for your sake," he said. "But I'm not certain."
Connor was still thinking. Either he would pay the penalty, else Captain Bill and Norene would pay it. He didn't care for Captain Bill, but Norene was innocent; had been horrified when she discovered what her uncle was doing.
Perhaps there'd be some chance of escape after Captain Bill got Norene and the Amingo away.
"It's up to me!" he told Garza suddenly. "What the captain says is true. But you haven't executed me yet by a long shot—"
"So!" Garza cried. "Iron him, men! He's tried to run guns for the last time!"
Two of the men started toward Connor.
Norene, her face white, stepped before him. Connor never forgot how she looked just then.
"Wait!" she cried. "It isn't true! My uncle has lied to you! He alone is guilty!
"Wait—listen to me! He shanghaied this man in Astoria—shanghaied him, and one of his friends, too. This man had spoken lightly of me. My uncle swore he'd punish him for it. Guerrero tied my uncle, at his orders. My uncle admitted to me what he was going to do—that he was going to send this man to his death, and go free himself."
"Girl!" the captain screeched.
"It's true—true! You sha'n't have an innocent man executed! You must face your crime yourself! I'm telling the truth, señor," she added, facing Garza again. "Ask Guerrero—he has no reason to hate this man, but he has reason to hate my uncle now, because he failed to land the cargo. Go back to the States and find who bought the arms and cartridges!"
She was sobbing as she spoke, for she began to realize the consequences of what she was saying.
Connor realized, too, with horror. The girl was freeing him, but condemning her uncle—and perhaps herself.
"Girl—girl! You've just killed me!" said Captain Bill, surprise and horror in his voice.
Garza was looking at him searchingly.
"This matter can be investigated and the guilt fixed," he said. "I think, Captain Adams, that your little plot has been in vain."
Captain Adams cursed, cursed his niece, cursed Connor, cursed the Mexican officer and his men, and Señor Guerrero most of all.
"Silence!" Garza commanded, and called a subordinate to him. "Take charge of this schooner and follow the gunboat to Mazatlan. A squad here! Bind these prisoners well and have them taken aboard the gunboat. Watch the captain carefully, and have his guard a double one. Señor Connor, too. And the girl—
"Take the girl aboard the gunboat, but keep her in irons. She's as bad as her uncle. She's known in every port. She's slippery as an eel."
Two of the men caught Connor just as he launched himself at the Mexican officer.
"Watch the girl closely!" Garza went on, ignoring the American. "I don't know why she's turned against the captain, but that makes no difference. You all heard her testimony here. We'll make her repeat it—and it'll send her uncle before a firing squad. Lively, now!"
"You dare lay hands on me?"
Norene had ceased her weeping. Her tiny hands were clenched at her sides, her eyes blazed.
"You curs!" she cried. "I accused my uncle to save an honest man, not because I hated my father's brother. And he's a better man than any five of you! He's an American and I'm an American, and you can punish us for such an offense if we are guilty—but you'll treat us decently until we're proved so!
"You're going too fast, my fine Mexican officer—entirely too fast aboard an American ship. We have a right to stop here and land cargo, haven't we?"
"Scarcely, when that cargo is contraband of such a nature, my dear young lady," Garza smilingly reminded her.
"We're lost, I suppose. But we'll bother you as much as we can!" she went on. "You'll take every step in a legal manner! Perhaps, before you remove us to the gunboat, you'd better be sure the cargo is contraband. Not all of us will be executed—and the man who is not you may be sure will see that you suffer if every step is not legal."
Garza, smiling, bowed before her with fine sarcasm.
"Very well, señorita," he said. "A squad! Smash in those cases and we'll have a look. If you'll pardon me, señorita, I was about to do so, to make the evidence sure."
She turned toward her uncle, weeping, but he repulsed her.
Connor clasped her in his arms. It was all foolery, he knew. They'd be taken aboard the gunboat, there would be a farce of a trial in Mazatlan. With the country in such a state, the trial would be over and they'd be executed before a United States consul could even make a protest.
But he held Wild Norene in his arms for the moment, and that was because she sought a refuge in her grief, not because of love. Even as he thought these things she drew away from him and stood in the circle of Mexicans, watching Garza's squad smash in the tops of the cases.
She tried to explain to herself why she had not let Connor be taken to his death while her uncle escaped. What was Connor to her?
She answered herself that she had done it because of the dread of seeing an honest man suffer for the crime of another—and because she had real love for her uncle after all, that he was her ideal, and she didn't want that ideal shattered, didn't want her uncle to lower himself by putting the blame on another.
It was over now, she thought. Prison, perhaps death—at least for her uncle and his crew, and perhaps for herself. Or, if she escaped, there would be endless years to remember that she had condemned her father's brother with her words—the man who had been like a second father to her.
A cry from Garza caused all to turn toward him. The lid of the first case was off. Here were no rifles, no cartridges—here were chunks of scrap iron, stones, packed with heavy paper!
A smothered oath came from the Mexican.
"Smash them in—all of them!" he commanded in his own language.
They waited in consternation—Captain Bill, Norene, Connor, Morgan and the crew.
Case after case was opened—all scrap iron and heavy paper and stones! Some one laughed hoarsely. Some one cursed.
It was a miracle, almost. Norene had not known. She had spoken as she did without reason, on the verge of hysteria.
Garza ordered his men below—but they found no contraband.
"I scarcely think you'll trouble us further," Norene said to him when he returned to the deck. "By the way, you and your men in the Mexican service are on the deck of a ship flying the United States flag. You've fired a shot across our bows, attacked our crew, seized the ship. The United States government shall hear of this!"
Captain Bill Adams, coming from his lethargy, suddenly realized the situation.
"Off my ship, you scum!" he roared. "Into your boats! Take us to Mazatlan, will you? Not without evidence! Off my ship!"
Garza was an officer who knew when he was whipped. He knew as well as any man that Captain Bill Adams had put into that cove to land contraband.
He wasn't sure who was fooled—Captain Bill or himself—but he had an inkling that it was both.
With poor grace he ordered his men into their boats after releasing the members of the Amingo's crew. He would have to be satisfied with Riney, a murderer, and with Guerrero, who was wanted on other charges of inciting rebellion.
And down in his soul he hoped he never would hear from the incident again.
The boats pulled away. The search-light died out. Captain Bill Adams roared out an order, and men sprang to touch match to the lights of the Amingo.
Forgetting the predicament, the certain death he had faced, Captain Bill was himself again.
"'’Tend to the wounded!" he roared. "And bless the swindlers that sold the junta scrap iron for rifles!"
Connor stretched his cramped muscles and made his way from the forecastle to the deck. He had been dressing a bad wound in Morgan's leg. The Amingo was on her way again, and day had broken, and the sea danced in the sunshine.
The Mexican coast was red with poinsettias. In the distance the gunboat steamed toward the south.
Wild Norene stood beside the rail, looking at the distant warship.
Connor stepped up beside her.
"Why did you do it?" he asked softly. "Why didn't you let me die, let your uncle live? You didn't know, when you spoke, that the junta had been fooled, that it would turn out such a farce. Why did you do it, Norene?"
"I didn't want to think my uncle would hide behind another man, put his guilt on another man, even if to do otherwise meant his death."
"And that was the only reason?" he asked.
"That—and because—because—maybe—Wild Norene has been tamed," she whispered.
And the man at the wheel whistled softly as she turned and went into Connor's arms in token of sweet surrender.
(The end.)