The Argosy for May — page 136: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

TROUBLE IN BUNCHES. s “What is it—a plot—a plan to get me out?” he asked eagerly. “It was to be,” I answered.- “ But, like all the rest of the business, I’ve made a mess of it. I did leave O’Donnell’s camp to come and help you, but I am worse off than you are. I am wounded, and I have lost Don Manuel’s money.” “Then, it’s all up with you, too,” he said. There was no recrimination—no mur- muring nor fault-finding. Balover was as brave a fellow as I had ever seen. “Tf you are wounded,” he went on, “lie down on this straw. It isn’t very clean, nor very dry; but it’s better than the floor.” I lay down alongside of him, and so great was my exhaustion that even while he was speaking to me I fell asleep. When I awoke I saw the miserable con- dition of the place we were in, and the effect his imprisonment was having on Balover. His eyes were sunken and dim, his cheeks hollow and white, with a sickly look all over his face. “They don’t need to shoot a man here,” I remarked. “ All that is neces- sary is to keep him here. He'll die soon enough.” . “7 wish they’d hurry up and have it over,” said Balover. ‘I see no hope of getting out. In some way these fools have got it into their heads that we are great criminals. You can’t drive any sense into them. ‘They are densely ignorant, and hate us for our nationality. I thought all South America liked the States. But Santa Rosa hates us. There is no doubt that I am to be shot. And, as they have put you in with me, I sup- pose that will be your fate.” ‘TI tried to see our consul, but he was on board some ship in the harbor,” I explained. “If we could only com- municate with him, he might do some- thing.” “Oh, the consul at Santa Rosa can’t do anything. He never did. O’Donnell might. But I reckon he’s got about all he can do to stay here and keep out of prison. He never comes into Santa Rosa.” They brought us our breakfast. I will not attempt to tell what it was, because I don’t know. It was a nauseating mess, anyway, but we knew we must eat. 323 “Tf we don’t eat; and an opportunity to escape should offer, we wouldn’t be able to take it,” I said. ‘Opportunity to escape!” Balover echoed. ‘‘ Who ever heard of escaping from one of these burial holes?” ‘But that messenger you sent with your letter escaped.” ‘True. But he was a minor prisoner, and wasn’t down here. He had the run of the prison-court, and had people out- side to help him.” “Can’t we bribe somebody there to pass letters for us?” I asked. “We can try it.” We watched the little iron grating Balover had mentioned in his letter. For hours no one came near it. Then two men were walking past,and stopped right over the grating to continue their conversa- tion. “They've got the two Americans,” said one. “ Both in the underground dungeon. I heard the captain say they were to be shot. I don’t know when.” I had not been searched when I en- tered. They do not always attend to those things in a South American prison at night. My revolver had been taken from me, but I still had some money. I poked a piece of gold through the grating. “ Seniors,’ 1 called softly. ‘Who spoke?” asked one of the two. ‘Did you not hear a voice?” “TI did. Some one said ‘ sefiors.’ The American. Down here—see?” I saw both their faces as they peered down at me. “Will you carry a letter for us?” I asked. ‘‘ We will pay you well.” ‘It is impossible,” said the one who had spoken before. “I would not at- tempt it. order has gone forth that you are to be shot. Any person caught with a letter from you would also be shot. Farewell, senors.” With that, the two walked off, Ah! CHAPTER XIX. DYNAMITE, My heart sank. It is no pleasant thing to realize that you are to die within a short time. I suppose a person after AMICLOOC) SS Everybody is watched. The (CO)