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"It's a lie, I don't care who says it!-It's a lie!" he burst out angrily.
CHAPTER XXVI
A WICKED PLAN
How c.u.mmings came to be acting as the rascally Jarrold's agent is easily explained. After he was discharged from the _Tropic Queen_ at Jack's behest, he had drifted about seeking any sort of a job. In this way he discovered that a yacht called the _Endymion_ was being fitted out for a mysterious voyage.
There were several things about the _Endymion_ and her crew that had prevented other wireless operators from accepting a berth on her.
No information was forthcoming as to the nature of her cruise or its destination or even who the owner was.
But c.u.mmings was not particular. He met Jarrold on board and after an interview with the master rogue, in which he bound himself to ask no questions but obey orders, he found himself signed on as the yacht's wireless man.
The _Endymion_, as we know, was a much faster boat than the _Tropic Queen_, and had arrived in Kingston, after her mysterious maneuvering on the voyage south, a day ahead of the liner, slipping in almost unnoticed and docking at a remote pier. As soon as the _Tropic Queen_ docked, Jarrold, to whom alone these arrangements were known, hastened to the _Endymion_. He found c.u.mmings and a.s.signed to him the job of getting Jack Ready into his power. c.u.mmings would have obeyed Jarrold anyhow, but the work given him held an added relish, for it afforded him an opportunity to take revenge on the lad whom he hated with a malicious envy.
As the auto sped along the road, pa.s.sing few people and those, country negroes driving donkeys laden with produce for the Kingston market, c.u.mmings related with great glee to Jarrold the manner in which he had tricked Jack into taking the drugged drink.
"I'll take good care of you for putting the job through as you did,"
Jarrold a.s.sured the treacherous youth. "With that young meddler out of the way, I'll accomplish what I set out to do before the _Tropic Queen_ reaches Panama."
"Do you still intend to transfer to the _Endymion_ as soon as you have the papers in your possession?" asked c.u.mmings.
"Yes. I shall signal you by the red flash."
"By the way, what happened to your apparatus the last time we exchanged signals?" asked c.u.mmings, recalling the night that Jack played his memorable trick and cut off the current by which Jarrold was working his flash lamp.
"I don't know, but I suspect that young jackanapes back there of having something to do with it," was the reply.
"Well, you won't be bothered with him now," said c.u.mmings.
"No; by the time he gets out of the Lion's Mouth the _Tropic Queen_ will be far out at sea," chuckled Jarrold.
"How did you ever come to locate the Lion's Mouth, as you call it?"
asked c.u.mmings with some curiosity.
"Many years ago, when I was in Jamaica for-well, never mind what purpose-an old voodoo negro showed me the place. It forms part of the ruins of an old Spanish castle, and there is a legend that the old Don who once owned it kept lions in it for his amus.e.m.e.nt. Any one he didn't like, he'd let the lions make a meal of. Nice old gentleman, wasn't he?"
c.u.mmings joined in Jarrold's laugh at his own grim humor.
The road began to grow rougher and Jarrold had all he could do to keep the machine in the track. He had no more opportunity to talk. Rocky walls shot up on one side of the thoroughfare, and on the other a steep precipice tumbled sheer down to the sea, which broke in roaring ma.s.ses of spray at its foot.
It was a scene of gloomy magnificence in which the modern car with its red tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs and snorting engine seemed strangely out of place. At length they came to a spot where a ravine ran back from the sea, splitting the towering rock ma.s.ses and spanned by a narrow bridge.
Jarrold turned the car aside and ran it some distance back into a track that wound along one side of the deep cleft, at the bottom of which the sea boiled and roared.
c.u.mmings peered over somewhat fearfully into the dark depths.
"The sea pours into that ravine, and then at high water empties into a hole in the earth that penetrates n.o.body knows how deeply into the bowels of the island," said Jarrold.
"Has n.o.body ever explored it?" asked c.u.mmings, unconsciously sinking his voice.
"Yes, some explorers fitted up a boat once and announced that they were going to enter the ravine, and thence penetrate into the unexplored cavern where the waters disappear," was the reply.
"And what did they find?" asked c.u.mmings.
"Well, they never came back to tell," rejoined Jarrold, with grim jocularity.
He brought the car to a sudden stop. A sheer wall of rock shot up before them. It was the end of the giant cleft in the earth. There were steps cut in the forbidding acclivity and on a platform far above were traces of ruined buildings.
"That's what is left of the old Don's castle, up there yonder," said Jarrold, pointing.
"And the Lion's Mouth is up there?" asked c.u.mmings.
Jarrold nodded.
"That's the place," he said.
CHAPTER XXVII
IN THE LION'S MOUTH
Jack came to himself lying on a rocky couch. For a few moments his brain refused to work. He did not comprehend where he was or what had happened. He felt stiff and sore and his head ached intolerably.
Then memory came back with a rush. He recalled the darkened hut where he had drunk the supposedly innocent cola and then, but very vaguely, the sensation of being placed in a rig and experiencing a desire to call for help without being able to raise his voice.
But where was he now?
He looked about him. He lay at the bottom of a steep walled pit, apparently hewn by man or nature out of the solid rock. The walls shot up sheer and smooth to a height of at least thirty feet. The bottom of this pit was about forty or fifty feet in circ.u.mference.
Beside him was a big canteen of water and some food. He noticed something around his shoulders, something that pa.s.sed under his armpits.
It was a rope about forty feet long. So, then, he had been lowered into this pit by somebody. But by whom?
His mind reverted to c.u.mmings. Jack was tolerably certain now that he had been drugged by his crafty enemy, but he could not bring himself to believe that c.u.mmings' mind had plotted the bold stroke by which he had been marooned in this pit. Some master wit had contrived that.
Jack's head swam as he began to sense the full horror of his situation.
He did not even know how long he had been there. He looked at his watch.
The hands pointed to three o'clock. He had wound the watch in the morning, so it was clear that it was the same day as the one on which he had entered Mother Jenny's place with c.u.mmings.
He rose dizzily to his feet and, steadying himself with one hand against the rock walls, looked about him with greater minuteness. Far above was the blue dome of the sky and at the top of those walls lay freedom. But he might as well have been in China for all the good it did him. He was cut off from his friends as effectually as if on the other side of the globe.
Naturally, too, he had not the slightest idea on what part of the island the pit was located. There was nothing to indicate where it was. Jack was not a lad who easily lost heart, but his present position was almost unbearable.