Chapter XXXIII: News of Durango

FOR nearly two hundred feet the two divers trudged over the sandy bed, till the airtube rising obliquely towards the surface told them that they were near the end of their quest.

Overhead was a rectangular floating body measuring roughly twenty feet by ten. Dacres had found out enough to identify the craft as a kind of floating store. He remembered having seen it moored in the harbour, but previously there had been nothing to arouse his suspicions.

He touched the Irishman's hand, and pointed towards the now invisible "Meteor." The two men tramped slowly back in the direction of the airship till they came in sight of the corpse of the unfortunate diver and the body of the dead swordfish.

Again Dacres came to a halt. The idea of taking the body of the victim on board flashed across his mind. Perhaps the man might be identified. Taking possession of the dead man's axe he commenced to hew laboriously at the horny substance in the head of the swordfish. It was a lengthy task, but at length the stubborn bone was severed.

"Man, I thought you were done for," exclaimed Vaughan Whittinghame, as soon as Dacres' head-dress was removed. "What has happened?"

The Captain and the crew of the "Meteor" had good cause to think that something terrible had overtaken their comrades, for the water all around was tinged with blood and agitated by the air-bubbles that were still being thrown up through the severed tube.

"We're all right," said the sub. "We caught the fellow fairly in the act of boring holes in the under sheathing."

"You killed him?"

The sub shook his head.

"No," he replied. "There will be direct evidence in a few moments. Callaghan is still busy down there. Will you have a weighted line lowered, sir?"

While two members of the crew were divesting Dacres of his borrowed diving-suit a rope was lowered over the side, and the rest of the crew eagerly watched the course of events. Presently the Irishman's helmet appeared above the surface, then his shoulders and arms. Holding on to the ladder with one hand he motioned with the other for the men to haul away.

Up came the corpse of the unknown diver transfixed by the pointed weapon of the swordfish.

"It might have been one of us, sir," said Dacres.

"Get the man on board and let's see who he is," ordered the captain.

"That's where he descended," announced the sub, pointing to the galvanized shed on the raft. "If we are fairly sharp we ought to nab the whole crowd before they become alarmed."

"Good!" ejaculated Captain Whittinghame. "Mr. Setchell, will you please send a message to the flagship and request that an armed boat's crew be sent as soon as possible."

In double quick time a cutter was observed to leave the "Repulse." The men, instinctively realizing that the matter was urgent, bent to their oars with a will.

"There's been an attempt made to scuttle the 'Meteor,'" exclaimed Whittinghame to the lieutenant in charge of the boat. "The fellows are operating from yonder house-boat or raft."

"They're still there, I suppose?" asked the officer.

"We haven't seen them leave. Can you board and investigate?"

"Certainly," was the reply, and ordering his men to give way the lieutenant instructed the coxswain to pull straight for the raft.

Eagerly the crew of the airship watched the departing cutter. As she ran alongside the floating store the oars were boated, and the seamen, armed with rifles and bayonets, clambered on to the platform surrounding the iron shed.

The lieutenant knocked once without receiving any reply. He knocked again. This time he was greeted by a revolver shot, the bullet passing completely through the door and missing the officer's body by a hand's breadth.

Another and another shot came in quick succession, but at the first sign of resistance the lieutenant and his men had thrown themselves flat upon the platform.

"Give it to them hot, men," shouted the officer.

Seven Lee-Enfields spoke almost simultaneously The bullets, passing completely through the frail galvanized iron sheeting, whistled high above the British ships lying half a mile away in the open roadstead. From within the hut came groans and shrieks for mercy, while from a small window was thrust a white handkerchief fastened to the staff of a boathook.

One of the seamen, putting his shoulder to the frail door, quickly burst it open. In rushed the bluejackets, presently to emerge with four uninjured but badly scared men and two slightly-wounded ones as the result of their prompt action.

"Do you know any of these gentlemen, sir?" asked the lieutenant unconcernedly as the cutter returned to the "Meteor."

"I do," declared Gerald Whittinghame. "They are some of Durango's gang. Three of them, at least, were members of the crew of the 'Libertad.'"

"Never!" ejaculated his brother incredulously. "We left the 'Libertad' a total wreck. The survivors were known to have made for the Brazilian frontier."

"All the same, I'm certain I'm right," persisted Gerald. "Ask the lieutenant to send the men on board and we will question them."

To this proposal the "Repulse's" officer raised no objection. The six Valderians were made to enter the airship. The two wounded ones were handed over to Dr. Hambrough's care, while the others were told to stand against one of the bulkheads, with an armed man between each to prevent any further act of violence.

The prisoners maintained a sullen silence when questioned by Gerald Whittinghame. Promises to be treated with leniency and threats if they refused to divulge their employer's whereabouts alike were useless.

The Valderians apparently realized that being in the power of the British their lives were safe. Had they thought otherwise fear would have compelled them to speak to save themselves from summary execution.

"I'll take the whole jolly lot back to the flagship, sir," said the lieutenant. "No doubt the Admiral will send them ashore with the request that the new president of Valderia will deal with them as he thinks fit."

"One moment," replied Vaughan Whittinghame. "Suppose we see if we can identify the fellow in the diver's suit. It might even be Durango himself."

The body of the dead diver had been removed from where it had been lying close to the entry port, and had been placed in a compartment out of the sight of the captives as they were being brought on board.

When the head-dress was removed Gerald Whittinghame tapped his brother on the shoulder.

"Now are you convinced?" he asked.

"I don't know the man," replied the Captain.

"But I do. That is Sebastian Lopez, the fellow who took command of the 'Libertad' when she left Naocuanha to pick up Reno Durango at Salto Augusto. I don't mind staking any amount that Durango has doubled on his tracks and is somewhere in Valderian territory."

"Hardly likely with those submarine plans in his possession," demurred Captain Whittinghame. "He knows that Valderia is no go as far as he is concerned. He'll be making his way as fast as he can to Europe, to raise money on the plans."

"When it's a choice between cupidity and revenge there's no telling what the Mexican will do," declared Gerald. "My opinion is that he is somewhere about, and has bribed these men to cripple the 'Meteor.' I admit they went a clumsy way about it, for they could easily have fixed an electrically-fired mine under the aircraft and blown her to atoms. Look here; the best thing we can do is to separate the prisoners and try to get them to open their mouths."

"Good idea!" asserted the lieutenant of the "Repulse." "If you threaten to hand them over to President Desiro I should think they'll listen to reason pretty smartly."

"Very well, then," assented the Captain. "So long as you have no objection I haven't; they are your prisoners, you know."

The first Valderian to be questioned maintained an obstinate silence. At the threat of being sent ashore to be dealt with by the new president he merely shrugged his shoulders.

"Take him away," ordered Vaughan Whittinghame impatiently. "They show far greater solicitude for their rascally leader than Durango would show towards them."

"Before you have the next prisoner brought in we'll arrange a little dramatic episode," said the flagship's lieutenant. "I'll order my men to fire a volley."

"By all means," assented Whittinghame. "I quite follow you."

Having given his boat's crew orders for each man to break out a bullet from a cartridge and load with the blank, the lieutenant told the men to fire. The sharp crack of musketry resounded from one end of the airship to the other.

When the second prisoner was ushered in he was pale and trembling. He was now fully convinced that the faith he had in the Englishman's reluctance to take life was a mistake, for in his mind he felt certain that the volley he had just heard meant the summary execution of his predecessor.

"Pay attention," exclaimed Gerald Whittinghame sternly. He had been deputed to act as cross-examiner-in-chief, and his intimate knowledge of Spanish stood him in good stead. "Pay attention: you have been caught in the act of committing an outrage on the property of a friendly nation; for it is useless to attempt to excuse yourself on the grounds that you were unaware of the settlement of the differences between Great Britain and Valderia. We mean to take extreme measures with you, unless----"

Vaughan's brother paused in order that his words should carry weight, while the incompleted sentence indicated that even yet the prisoner might expect clemency.

"Unless you tell us all you know of the whereabouts of Señor Reno Durango. Do not attempt to deceive us. Already we know a great deal, so if you tell us anything that we know to be false you will have good cause to wish you had held your tongue."

"Señor, I speak the truth," replied the Valderian. "I have been made to do what I have done. I swear it----"

"We do not ask you about your part of the affair," interrupted Gerald. "What we want to know, and what we insist on finding out, relates to Durango."

"Señor, he is not in Zandovar."

"That I know," said Whittinghame. It was a sheer piece of bluff, for up to the present he had had a suspicion that the Mexican might have returned.

"Nor is he in Naocuanha."

"We do not wish to know where he is not, but where he is."

"Señor, I know not."

Gerald Whittinghame pulled out his watch.

"You are lying," he thundered. "I give you thirty seconds. At the end of that time if you do not tell the truth----" and he pointed significantly towards the door.

The silence was so intense that the ticking of the watch could be distinctly heard. The prisoner's face was working spasmodically.

"Twenty-eight, twenty-nine ----" counted Gerald.

Before he could say the word "thirty" the Valderian leapt upon him like a tiger. The watch was hurled across the cabin, while ere Whittinghame and his companions quite realized what was taking place the prisoner was clawing Gerald's face like a wild cat.

Two or three of the "Meteor's" crew threw themselves upon the violent prisoner and secured him.

"Shoot me!" he shouted defiantly. "Shoot me, you English cowards! I will not tell."

"Take him below," ordered Gerald. "He is a jolly sight braver than most of his countrymen. You will not be shot," he added, addressing the Valderian.

"By Jove! if they are all like that fellow we shan't learn very much," remarked Vaughan to his brother, after the man had been led away to join the first prisoner. "Either Durango has put black fear into their hearts, or else they regard him as a hero worthy of any sacrifice."

"We'll try the effect of another volley, sir," suggested the lieutenant from the "Repulse." "Number Three may be made of different stuff."

The third prisoner certainly was. With the report of the rifles ringing in his ears he was ushered into the cabin. He, too, thought he was to be sent to execution, and in the hope of saving his life he most readily agreed to tell all he knew concerning his chief.

Durango, two days after the destruction of the "Libertad," had made off for Salto Augusto, accompanied by two men who had served under von Harburg, while the other survivors, under his orders, went to Naocuanha. Apparently, the Mexican thought better of attempting the hazardous journey on foot across the Voyocama Desert; for on the eve of the fall of the Valderian capital he arrived at Naocuanha. Without attempting to inform President Zaypuru of his presence, the Mexican called together his remaining partisans and ordered them to destroy or at least seriously cripple the airship as she lay in the inner harbour.

His idea was not merely to revenge himself upon his rival, but to prevent Whittinghame from pursuing him. He had left Zandovar that morning for Nazca, a small seaport in Peru. "For what reason is Durango going to Nazca?" demanded Gerald Whittinghame.

"Señor, I do not know. I can only guess, for the Señor Durango rarely told us of his plans. I know that at Nazca dwells an inventor who has constructed a boat that can fly through the air. Some months ago this inventor wrote to President Zaypuru and offered to sell him the craft, but Durango advised the president to have nothing to do with it. Perhaps, now, Durango will buy it. _Quien sabe?_"

"How long will it take Durango to reach Nazca?"

"He has but to ride to Tuiche: there he will find an aeroplane," replied the prisoner.

"That will do; remove him," ordered Gerald, then turning to his brother he added, "we must be off almost at once, if we are to catch the villain. How long will it take for the 'Meteor' to be ready for flight?"

"Twenty minutes," replied Vaughan calmly.