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"Quick! quick, man!" said Will.
Hesitating no longer, Ruggles did what was required of him. The hydroplane flew on. In half-a-minute it had gained a furlong on the train. Fearing that their prey was escaping them, the men on the trucks fired a volley, some resting their rifles on the sides, others even venturing to mount, being held up on the jolting vehicles by their comrades. More bullets struck the windscreen; Will did not notice that Azito's right arm dropped by his side. The Indian did not utter a sound.
With every second the hydroplane increased its lead. At last it came to the bend, which made its course longer by over a mile than the straight track of the railway. This was the critical part of the race. Will knew that, if the train maintained its speed, he could not expect to reach the farther end of the curve before his pursuers. It was impossible to increase the pressure by an ounce. His only hope was that the train would not have time to pull up, so that the men could steady themselves for firing, before he shot past.
As he rounded the bend into the straight again, he saw that the train was leading by about two hundred yards. It did not appear to be slackening speed. And here he recognized with a throb of delight that there was a point in his favour that had not occurred to him. For nearly a mile the bank of the river was lined with a thin fringe of trees. This explained the fact that the train had not pulled up. Even if the men could alight in time, the trees must completely spoil their chance of pouring in an effective volley. The hydroplane was skimming along at such an enormous speed that they could no more have taken good aim at it through the trees than if they had been park palings. In half-a-minute the hydroplane was once more forging ahead. A scattered volley flashed from the trucks; Will paid no heed to it; he did not even notice that a bullet had flown up from the wind-screen and struck his cheek. All that he knew was that the hydroplane was drawing away, and that in another mile or so the train would arrive at a dangerous curve.
"They're putting on more steam," cried Ruggles, "and coaling like the very d.i.c.kens."
"Shall we do it? I can't keep this up for more than another minute."
"In another minute they'll come to the curve in the cutting," said Ruggles, "and then nothing can save them if they don't slacken."
A few seconds later a loud grinding shriek came from the right.
"They've clapped on the brakes," said Will. "'Twas time. Reduce the pressure, Ruggles, or the whole concern will burst up. There's no hurry now."
[Ill.u.s.tration: THE RACE TO THE SWIFT]
Ruggles screwed back the valve. Will gradually closed the throttle until the speed was reduced to twenty miles an hour. The bridge was in sight. Just as they reached it there came a crash from the line. Will reduced the speed still further, and looked round. The driver had put on his brakes too late. Rounding the curve, the engine had left the rails and the wagons were overturned.
"Not much harm done," said Ruggles. "Lucky she slowed down when she did, or there'd have been a horrible mess."
"Thank goodness we've got through in time," said Will, mopping his steaming brow. "We can take it easy now, and get to Bolivar before it's dark."
CHAPTER XVI--THE END OF A REVOLUTION
The hydroplane was now on the broad bosom of the Orinoco, floating down with the tide. Will thought it time to stop for a meal.
"We'll run into the bank, and Azito can cook us some yuca," he said.
"A gla.s.s of beer, just one, would satisfy me," said Ruggles. "But, bless us! you've got blood on your cheek."
"So I have!" cried Will, brus.h.i.+ng his hand over it. "Any one else hurt?"
There was no answer, but looking round, he noticed that Azito's right arm hung limp at his side. As soon as the vessel was beached, he examined the wound.
"You're a plucky fellow," he said. "Do you know that your arm's broken?"
"It's nothing, senor," replied the Indian simply.
"Isn't it? We'll see what the surgeon says when we get to Bolivar.
Ruggles, you can do most things: can you make a bandage?"
"I've washed and dressed a week-old baby," said Ruggles, "and there's a bit of bandaging in that."
"Well, see what you can do for Azito. Jose must bake our bread, and I think we might release our prisoners now, don't you?"
"You won't let the General go, surely?" said Ruggles.
"Not I. But we can untie him now. He must be pretty uncomfortable."
The two prisoners were released from their bonds. They looked very woebegone. Machado began to protest.
"You said no harm should come to me if I did your bidding, senor," he said. "This is how an Englishman keeps his word!"
"You haven't much to complain of," said Will bluntly. "Many a man would have shot you for your treachery."
"But you will not take me to Ciudad Bolivar?" said the man, beginning to whine. "They will shoot me there."
"And you would deserve it. But since it was by your help that I secured the person of your General, I'll see what I can do for you. Perhaps they won't trouble about you when they have the arch-rebel in their hands."
Then General Carabano thought it time to say a word.
"You have no right to meddle in the affairs of Venezuela, senor," he said. "My cause is a good one: I have half the country at my back: and----"
"We won't go into that, General," interrupted Will. "You ventured to meddle with the servants of a Company protected by the laws of your State. You have got the worst of it, and that's all there is to be said."
"Not all, senor," said the General, changing his tone. "You forget that your friends are still in captivity, and be sure that if any harm befall me, my adherents will exact retribution."
"I doubt whether you have any adherents now," replied Will. "At any rate you will go with us to Ciudad Bolivar."
"If you release me, senor, I will undertake that your friends shall rejoin you in three days, and your Company shall be no further molested."
"Sorry I can't oblige you, General. You can't repay my Company for their loss of business: you can't repair the railway line that your adherents have smashed up. The less said the better, I think."
The General glared at him, but seeing that there was no hope of his relenting he held his peace.
After a meal, Will started the hydroplane, and ran down the river at a speed of about fifteen knots.
"What about the Chief and Jerry O'Connor?" said Ruggles, sitting at his side.
"I'm rather bothered about them," replied Will, "though it wouldn't do to let the General think so. They're out of reach, and we can't get at them easily. But I hope they won't come to any harm. It is quite clear we can do nothing at present. We can't go across country while Espejo and his crew are still at large. Perhaps the Government will do something for them in return for our capture of Carabano: that's my hope."
Suddenly there was a loud splash. Looking round, Will saw that the General had flung himself overboard. No doubt he expected to meet the fate of rebels when he came into the President's hands, and preferred to seek his own death. Will instantly stopped the engine and sprang into the river. For a few moments the General did not reappear, and Will feared that he had gone to the bottom; but swimming along, he caught sight of the woolly head emerging a few yards away, and three or four swift strokes brought them together. The General fought stubbornly until Will in desperation called Ruggles to his a.s.sistance. Between them they managed to haul their prisoner to the vessel, by which time he was almost unconscious. Again his hands and feet were bound, and Will set the engine going at a higher speed.
It was near dusk when they came in sight of the white cathedral tower of Ciudad Bolivar. Soon after they entered the narrow part of the river.
There was the row of black rocks rising out of the water near the right bank. There was the Piedra del Medio--the large rock rearing itself in the middle of the stream. And there at last was the stone quay, not deserted, as it had been at his last visit to the city, but now thronged with idlers watching the progress of the strange vessel about which their curiosity had long been unsatisfied.
Will steered the hydroplane alongside the quay, and sprang out. Ruggles untied the bonds about the General's feet, and together they lifted him on to the quay. The onlookers were at first silent in sheer amazement; then the cry arose that the rebel General had been brought a prisoner to the city. Each taking an arm, Will and Ruggles marched the General along the Calle de Coco.
"What about Machado?" said Ruggles a few seconds after they had started.
"We'll let him go," answered Will. "I fancy he has had a lesson. He'll keep out of the way of the authorities, and after what has happened he'll beware of the rebels. Perhaps he'll try to earn an honest living."