Chapter 32

A LEAP IN THE DARK.

My readers can readily believe that all of us were much alarmed at the prospect ahead. We had not dreamed that the freight car contained soldiers, although all of us had heard that the Spanish Government was transporting troops by this means wherever the railroads ran.

Alano had scarcely explained the situation, when Captain Guerez motioned us to withdraw from the side edges of the platforms, so that the soldiers looking out of the broad side doors of the car could not catch sight of us.

“We must jump as soon as the meadow appears,” whispered the captain. “Be prepared, all of you.”

He had scarcely finished when we heard a clatter of feet, and knew that one or more of the Spaniards had crawled from a side door to the top of the car. Then followed cautious footsteps in the direction of the rear platform. Finding no one there, the Spanish soldiers came forward.

“Ha!” cried one, as he espied Captain Guerez. “Who are you?”

“Friends,” was the reply, of course in Spanish.

“Friends? And why ride out here, then?”

“We have no money, capitan. We are dirt-poor.”

“And where do you intend to go?”

“Los Harmona—if the train will ever reach there.”

“What will you do there?”

“We may join the Spanish soldiery, capitan—if you will take us.”

“Ha!” The Spanish officer tugged at his heavy mustache. He was only a sergeant, but it pleased him to be called captain. “Why did you not come into the car instead of sneaking around outside? If you want to become soldiers we will take you along fast enough. But you must not play us false. Come up here.”

“I am afraid—I may fall off,” answered Alano’s father, in a trembling voice.

All the while the conversation had been carried on he had been peering sharply ahead for the meadow and the water to appear. We now shot out of the woods, and on either side could be seen long stretches of swamp. He turned to us and spoke in English. “All ready to jump?”

“Yes,” we answered in concert.

“Then jump—all together!”

And away we went, leaving the rude steps of the freight cars with an impetus that took each several yards from the tracks. I made a straight leap and landed on my feet, but as quickly rolled over on my shoulder in the wet grass. Burnham came close to me, but took a header, which filled his nose and one ear with black mud. Alano and his father were on the opposite side of the track.

A pistol shot rang out, followed by half a dozen more, but the bullets did not reach any of us. In a moment the long train had rolled out of sight. We watched its rear light for fully an eighth of a mile, when it disappeared around a bend behind a bit of upland.

“Hullo, Mark, how are you?” It was the voice of Alano, who came up on the tracks directly the freight had passed. He was not hurt in the least. Captain Guerez had scratched one arm on a bit of low brush, but outside of this the entire party was uninjured.

“Come now, follow me; there is no time to be lost,” said the captain. “Those soldiers may take it into their heads to have the train run back in search of us.”

“Yes, that’s true,” said Burnham. “Which way now?”

“We’ll walk back on the tracks until we reach dry ground.”

The plunge into the wet meadow had completed the work of the rain in soaking us to the skin, but as the night was warm we did not mind this. Keeping our eyes on the alert for more Spanish sentries, we hurried along the railroad embankment for a distance of several hundred yards. Then we left the tracks and took a trail leading southward.

Our various adventures for the past few hours had completely exhausted Burnham, while the others of the party were greatly fatigued. The newspaper man was in favor of stopping under a clump of palm trees and resting, but Captain Guerez demurred.

“We’ll reach a hut or a house ere long,” he said. “And there the accommodations will be much better.”

“Well, we can’t reach a resting-place too soon,” grumbled Burnham. “I can scarcely drag one foot after the other, and it’s so close my clothing is fairly steaming.”

“You are no worse off than any of us,” I made answer, as cheerfully as I could.

The highway was a stony one, and the rains had washed away what little dirt there was, making walking difficult. However, we had not very far to go. A turn brought us in sight of a long, low house built of logs and thatched with palm; and Captain Guerez called a halt.

“I’ll go forward and investigate,” he said. “In the meantime be on guard against anybody following us from the railroad.”

He was gone less than quarter of an hour, and on returning said it was all right. A very old man named Murillo was in sole charge of the house, and he was a strong Cuban sympathizer.

The place reached, we lost no time in divesting ourselves of a portion of our clothing and making ourselves comfortable in some grass hammocks spread between the house posts.

“We ought to start early in the morning,” I said, my thoughts still on my father.

“We will start at four o’clock,” announced Captain Guerez. “So make the most of your rest.”

The captain had intended to divide up the night into watches, but Murillo came forward and volunteered to stand guard.

“You go to sleep,” he said in Spanish. “I sleep when you are gone. I know how to watch.”

Feeling the old man could be trusted, we all retired. In a few minutes Burnham was snoring, and shortly after the others also dropped asleep.

It lacked yet a few minutes of four o’clock in the morning when Murillo came stealing into the house and shook everyone by the shoulder.

“Spanish soldiers down by the railroad,” he explained hurriedly. “They intend to come up this road.”

“Then let us be off!” cried Captain Guerez.

All of us were already arranging our toilets. In a few seconds we were ready to leave, and Murillo was paid for the trouble he had taken in our behalf.

“Have they horses?” asked Captain Guerez; and Murillo nodded.

“Then come, all of you!” cried Alano’s father. He started out of the door, and we came after him. Hardly, however, had he taken a dozen steps than he pushed each of us behind a clump of bushes.

“Soldiers!” he muttered. “They are coming from the opposite direction!”

“We are caught in a trap!” exclaimed Alano. “We cannot go back, and we cannot go forward.”

“Here is a how d’ye do!” put in Burnham. “I’m sure I don’t want to take to those beastly swamps.”

Murillo had followed us to the doorway. His face took on a troubled look, for he wanted us to get away in safety.

“More soldiers coming the other way!” he cried. “What will you do? Ah, I have it! Come into the house at once?”

“But what will you do?” queried Captain Guerez impatiently.

“I’ll show you. Come, and you shall be safe.”

The old man spoke so confidently that we followed him inside at once. Pushing aside a rude table which stood over a rush matting, he caught hold of a portion of the flooring. A strong pull, and up came a trapdoor, revealing a hole of inky darkness beneath.

“Into that, all of you!” he cried; and down we went, to find ourselves in a rude cellar about ten feet square and six feet deep. As soon as the last of us was down, Murillo replaced the trapdoor, matting, and table, and we heard him throw off some of his clothing and leap into one of the hammocks.

We had been left in total darkness, and now stood perfectly still and listened intently. Not more than three minutes passed, when we heard the tramping of horses' hoofs on the rocky road. The house reached, the animals came to a halt, and several soldiers dismounted. A rough voice yelled out in Spanish:

“Hullo, in there! Who lives here?”

“I do,” replied Murillo, with a start and a yawn, as though he had just awakened from a long sleep.

“Have you seen anything of four strangers around here?”

“No, capitan.”

There was a pause, and the leader of the soldiers came tramping inside.

“You are sure you are telling me the truth?”

“Yes, capitan.”

“It is strange.”

The newcomer was about to go on, when a shout from outside attracted his attention. The soldiers from the opposite direction had come up. A short conference was held, of which, however, we heard nothing distinctly. Then some of the soldiers came inside, and we heard their heavy boots moving directly over our heads.

“You say you saw nobody?” was again asked of Murillo.

“No, capitan, not a soul. But then I have been asleep since evening. I am an old man, and I need a great deal of rest.”

“You are lazy, no doubt,” came with a rough laugh. “Andros, what do you think?”

“What should I think? There seems to be no one around. We might make a search.”

“Yes, we’ll do that. It can do no harm. Tell the other men to scour the woods and brush.”

The order was given; and a moment later those who had first come in began to search the house.