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Updated: May 5, 2025
The prisoner snarled at the lad a moment and turned to Ned. "Why are you doing this?" he asked. "What are your men doing down there?" Ned asked, ignoring the question. "They are removing explosives, explosives to be used in the work at Gatun." "Why is it stored here?" "For safety." "Were your men storing this bomb," taking the clumsy exhibit from his pocket, "under my cottage for safety?"
The execution thereof fell, of course, to my friend B , who to the world at large is merely Policeman No. , to the force "Admiral of the Inland Fleet," and in the general scheme of things is a luckier man than Vanderchild to have for his task in life the patrolling of Gatun Lake. B invited me to go along.
I was barely settled in Gatun when the train-guard handed me one of those frequent typewritten orders calling for the arrest of some straggler or deserter from the marine camp of the Tenth Infantry.
There was nothing particular doing in the criminal line around Gatun just then; moreover the doctor was known to be well armed and there was no telling just how much resistance he might offer a single policeman. I accepted. I was at the appointed rendezvous promptly at seven, a pocket filled with commissary cigars.
Although it was now broad daylight, and all were tired and in need of sleep, the party went to a private parlor and Ned began the story of the case, first having a short talk with Jimmie, who had listened to a confession from Gaga. "The plot against the Gatun dam," he said, "did not originate with the business men who were looking for emeralds along the line of the cut.
With the suspect behind bars, therefore, I continued my underground activities, with the result that when at length I took the train at New Gatun one morning for the court-room in Cristobal I loaded into a second-class coach six witnesses aggregating five nationalities, ready to testify among other things to the interesting little point that the defendant had a long prison record in Barbados.
A revolver was found in a hip pocket, also a package of papers in a breast pocket. The fellow cursed and swore like a pirate when the papers were taken. "This is highway robbery," he finally calmed down enough to say. "I am an official of the Zone, and you shall suffer for this." "Gee," said Jimmie, with a chuckle, "you must have a contract to lift the canal an' the Gatun dam into the blue sky."
For an instant the moving picture boys could hardly grasp the meaning of the fateful words spoken by Captain Wiltsey. But it needed only a look at his face to tell that he was laboring under great excitement. "The Gatun Dam to be destroyed," repeated Joe. "Then we'd better get " "Do you mean by an earthquake?" asked Blake, breaking in on his chum's words.
But if this is punishment to be sentenced to cruise around on Gatun Lake I wonder crime on the Zone is so rare and unusual.
Every year, you know, we receive a batch of senators and congressmen who come down to 'inspect' and 'report. Sometimes they spend as much as a week on the job, and frequently learn to distinguish which is the Gatun dam and which the Culebra cut, but not always. Some of them don't know yet. Nevertheless, they return to Washington and tell us how to proceed.
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