Johnston McCulley

“ At any time after dark he knew, the Amingo might turn toward the shore and soon get within Mexican waters.
Night came. Captain Bill still paced the bridge. Hatches were opened and huge packing cases were put on deck—cases supposed to contain mining machinery; and they might have, as far as their weight was concerned.
The men worked swiftly, silently, like men used to such labor. Señor Guerrero was among them, more nervous than ever, continually rubbing his hands together, his eyes sparkling with excitement. ”

“ It was pitch-dark, and the lights of the pursuing gunboat could not be seen.
An hour or two passed, and the nose of the Amingo was turned toward the distant Mexican shore.
In the cabin below Jack Connor slept. In an adjoining cabin Wild Norene lay in a berth, her tempest of tears at an end, and Sally Wood sat beside her, bathing the girl's swollen face and telling her of Jack Connor.
"I heard it all—that night," she was saying. "I've known Jack Connor for some time. He never looks at a woman. ”

“ Connor and Morgan struggled at their bonds, but the sailors had done their work well and escape was impossible.
"They're landin' th' contraband," Morgan whispered.
"Yes."
"Do you suppose it was cap'n's orders?"
"Yes."
"But he hasn't come back on deck; there ain't anybody to boss the men."
"They don't need a boss," snorted Connor. "They've got their orders, and they've done this work before."
Then he saw Guerrero, who had come slowly across the deck and was standing before them.
"We are sending the playthings to the ragged, ignorant fools," Guerrero said. ”