Thomas Powell

“ Powell walked past the man. A thin, somewhat sunken face, with a tightly closed mouth, stared at the distant French coast, vague like a suggestion of solid darkness, lying abeam beyond the evening light reflected from the level waters, themselves growing more sombre than the sky; a stare, across which Powell had to pass and did pass with a quick side glance, noting its immovable stillness. ”

“ In appearance and dress Powell resembled a sea-captain. He was broad, burly and bearded, brusque in manner, with dark hair and eyes, and a deep rich laugh: in temperament an artist and a poet, in attainments a scholar, as a man simple, affectionate, observant, with rare powers of sensitive enjoyment, the delight of his friends, clerk and lay, rich and poor, and the centre of many clubs both in Oxford and London. ”

“ Powell's only distinct aim was to remove the suspected tumbler. He had no other plan, no other intention, no other thought. Do away with it in some manner. Snatch it up and run out with it.
You know that complete mastery of one fixed idea, not a reasonable but an emotional mastery, a sort of concentrated exaltation. Under its empire men rush blindly through fire and water and opposing violence, and nothing can stop them--unless, sometimes, a grain of sand. For his blind purpose (and clearly the thought of Mrs. Anthony was at the bottom of it) Mr. Powell had plenty of time. ”

“ He held the glass in his hand; all he had to do was to vanish back beyond the curtains, flee with it noiselessly into the night on deck, fling it unseen overboard. A minute or less. And then all that would have happened would have been the wonder at the utter disappearance of a glass tumbler, a ridiculous riddle in pantry-affairs beyond the wit of anyone on board to solve. The grain of sand against which Powell stumbled in his headlong career was a moment of incredulity as to the truth of his own conviction because it had failed to affect the safe aspect of familiar things. ”

“ Her brother gave a sharp jerk, repeated it, was answered.
“Caya first,” said Mr. Whitley.
“No,” said Mr. Gray. “William—Bill first!”
“He can help pull up the rest,” Cliff urged. “My father can’t climb, he will have to be drawn up.”
“Hurry, then, Bill,” said Mr. Whitley. In the darkness they began to feel the rope twitch and jerk, and heard the scrape of boots feeling for a foothold on the fairly rough side of the aqueduct. Then, far up the side they saw, in the light from the reddening sky, Bill, monkeylike, climbing like a sailor. ”

“ He had as much enthusiasm for his historical records as the chums had for Tom’s quest, or Henry Morgan and Bill for news of the mine—the one Henry’s unnamed friend called “The Golden Sun.”
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“Anchor a-weigh!” cried Nicky, when Mr. Gray came aboard with clearance papers from the port authorities. “Man the capstan, me bully boys!”
“Man it yourself,” laughed Cliff, working with his chum at the small winch forward which drew the cable: they had been off on a trial spin to see that the engine worked perfectly, and had dropped anchor a little away from the wharves. ”

“ The white-hot glare of a gin palace a good way off made the intervening piece of the street pitch black. Some human shapes appearing mysteriously, as if they had sprung up from the dark ground, shunned the edge of the faint light thrown down by the gateway lamps. These figures were wary in their movements and perfectly silent of foot, like beasts of prey slinking about a camp fire. Powell gathered up his belongings and hovered over them like a hen over her brood. A gruffly insinuating voice said:
"Let's carry your things in, Capt'in! I've got my pal 'ere." ”

“ Then he sat in his hammock, munching on a yam, without retort.
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“Well,” said Bill finally, exasperated out of all patience, “we will pay well to have men and boys take torches and scour the jungle.”
“What do you say?” demanded Jack, also in Spanish and dialect.
The chief put down his yam and stared without expression.
Finally he spoke, coldly.
“You say you much doctor-magic man!” he declared. “All right. You make magic. You find!”
190 CHAPTER XX
TRAILED BY A JAGUAR
“Look, Cliff,” whispered Nicky, directing his comrade’s attention toward a limb not far above their campfire. ”

“ While Bill leaped up and Tom caught his feet under him swiftly, Henry strode into the hut, kicking over the calabash, into which Toosa had been staring after he inhaled the smoke.
“Porto Bello!” he shouted. “Well, that’s where Henry Morgan will find him. As for you—” he swung on his white companions, “you can follow me if you dare—but if you do, I shoot!”
He snatched up Bill’s rifle, just before Tom anticipated his move.
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“I take this,” he snapped, “’cause why? Toosa has mine. Now I go in canoe. I’ll tell your friends the yellow-jack got you. They can’t pass the deadlines to find out. ”

“ Tom explained. “He claims that he knew by his magic spells that we were in danger, and that he came to save us; and for that he expected Bill to give him Henry’s rifle when we left—which Bill was glad to do. But he and I privately think it was more chance than planning that brought him just in time to help us.”
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“When you have lived as long as I,” said Mr. Gray quietly, “you will understand that there isn’t any such thing as ‘luck’ or ‘chance’ or ‘coincidence.’ It is all a part of a Great Purpose, that is deeper than most of us can see ”

“ The chief, hesitating, walked gingerly to the fire over which the community cook-pot hung, and stood irresolute.
“Look, Tom,” Nicky whispered. “He’s trying to nerve himself to make your magic. If he does, we are beaten.”
“Don’t worry!” Cliff retorted. “I examined the film, this morning. I wondered why the film was so combustible when it was to be used on a ship and with an open light. I saw the reason. The ‘leader part’ isn’t supposed to be ‘threaded-up’ in the beam of heat from the light; it is to go down to the lower magazine and so it can be of ordinary celluloid base film. ”

“ Powell--not the Mr. Powell we know taking solitary week-end cruises in the estuary of the Thames (with mysterious dashes into lonely creeks) but to the young Mr. Powell, the chance second officer of the ship _Ferndale_, commanded (and for the most part owned) by Roderick Anthony, the son of the poet--you know. A Mr. Powell, much slenderer than our robust friend is now, with the bloom of innocence not quite rubbed off his smooth cheeks, and apt not only to be interested but also to be surprised by the experience life was holding in store for him. ”

“ Chick, belligerent and impulsive, followed John.
“What did you mean by throwing that smoke flare in on us?” he demanded. “You might have suffocated us!”
“I did not throw anything!” the young Indian retorted, cool and quiet, as he steadied his father. “We watched, that is all. Some one else is to blame, not I. And—when I find him!——”
Garry, seeing his face, felt glad that he was not the target of an emotion that contorted the copper-colored face into the mask of a veritable fury.
“Let’s go to the hangar,” Don suggested. “Maybe we can talk this out.” ”

“ Where were you lads when you and Margery talked over her story?”
“In her hut!” cried Tom, starting as he recalled a former time when Toosa had declined certain facts and an eavesdropper had overheard.
“You don’t mean?—” began Nicky. “Why—let me get hold of that—”
“That would explain why they avoided us and why the sloop sailed North in such a hurry,” Jack declared. He was much more of a self-respecting man than he had been even when the youths saw him last. He had control of himself, and took pride in his appearance.
“Andy—Bob—” called Bill, “get up the anchors and make everything shipshape. ”

“ Young Powell recognised the expression of a true sentiment, a thing so rare in this world where there are so many mutes and so many excellent reasons even at sea for an articulate man not to give himself away, that he felt something like respect for this outburst. ”

“ Then Bill, looking carefully over, to be greeted with a flung stone which, however, did not reach the ledge, made a statement.
“There are forty men down there,” he said. “They are not from Quichaka. They are men of some settlement: I can tell by their clothes.”
“Then Huayca must have passed us,” Cliff declared. “But how?”
“There must be another way around this ledge,” Mr. Whitley said.
“If we could find it——” Tom did not finish. It would give them a chance to escape, was the thought in his mind. But Bill shook his head. ”

“ On a warm afternoon Tom, Nicky, Cliff, Bill and Margery stood in the old, rickety shack, its corrugated metal sides almost ready to drop apart.
“You can see for yourself,” said the superintendent. “It looks as if they’ve done some explorin’, at that.” He had been told a good many facts concerning the adventures the chums had been through, the cause for their trip, and some deductions concerning the solution of the mystery of the missing gold dust which Bill, Jack and the chums had figured out.
“They certainly have been hunting for those papers Margery hid,” Tom said. “I guess we are beaten. ”

“ His eyes were more bleary and unpleasant than had been those of Henry Morgan. His voice, high and shaky, whined and implored.
“A beach comber,” Bill told them. “That’s what a white man comes to when he gets stranded in one of these dead spots, if he lets himself go.”
“It’s a pity,” Tom said. “He looks as if he has lost his own self-respect, for he isn’t even clean; and he has no will power, I’ll bet, or he wouldn’t have stayed here.”
“Laziness, drink—they tell the story,” Bill responded. “They’d sap the vitality of one of the old Greek Gods!” ”

“ The chums looked at him in dismay.
“Oh, he left all our supplies,” Bill assured them. “Everything is intact. That’s why I let him go.”
“But what shall we do?” asked Nicky.
“Follow!” stated Tom.
“Not exactly,” Bill corrected. “See—” he pointed toward the saddle-like depression between the peaks,—“he goes that way. We turn right around on our tracks and go back—that way!”
“Give up?” said Cliff, disappointedly.
“Nope! Climb down!”
They stared at him. Was good old Bill growing queer or was he trying to be funny?
“Climb down?” Nicky demanded. “Where? Why? And where is Whackey?” ”

“ Charles Powell in an earnest tone but looking at us as though he expected to be met by a laugh of derision and were half prepared to salve his reputation for common sense by joining in it. But neither of us laughed at Mr. Charles Powell in whose start in life we had been called to take a part. He was lucky in his audience.
"A very good name," said Marlow looking at him approvingly. "A sailor finds a deep feeling of security in the exercise of his calling. The exacting life of the sea has this advantage over the life of the earth that its claims are simple and cannot be evaded." ”

“ In the history of the United States the place of John Wesley Powell is clear. [1] A great explorer, he was also foremost among men of science and probably he did more than any other single individual to direct Governmental scientific research along proper lines. His was a character of strength and fortitude. A man of action, his fame will endure as much by his deeds as by his contributions to scientific literature. Never a seeker for pecuniary rewards his life was an offering to science, and when other paths more remunerative were open to him he turned his back upon them. ”

“ Cliff told him. Bill dropped his stick and became suddenly mighty serious.
“Why—look here! This is queer. This thing is a message about two grown men and some children and mountains and the snowy pass—and war—or ambush——”
He began to study the short woven length with its knotted strands and its weave of colors, some white, a bit of red and other colors mingled.
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Then he looked up as he saw Tom’s eyes turn toward the road, visible from the courtyard. They all looked. A youth—it might be the one they had seen before—was searching. ”

“ Mr. Gray stated.
“I hope it wasn’t too unpleasant for the hill Indians,” Andy said. “But if they were as sick as you that would be justice.”
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“And in the long run, if you wait long enough,” said Bill. “Justice is always done, one way or another.”
“Then Henry Morgan still has some punishment due him,” said Nicky and the desertion and falsehood of the departed pilot was discussed.
“We sent no message,” said Bill, telling how Henry had turned savage and stolen his rifle and a canoe. “Wait till I catch him!”
“He said he was going to Porto Bello,” said Nicky. “Aren’t we?”
“No,” said Tom. ”

“ So I merely pulled out my new certificate from my pocket and put it into his hand unfolded, so that he could read _Charles Powell_ written very plain on the parchment.
"He dropped his eyes on to it and after a while laid it quietly on the desk by his side. I didn't know whether he meant to make any remark on this coincidence. Before he had time to say anything the glass door came open with a bang and a tall, active man rushed in with great strides. His face looked very red below his high silk hat. You could see at once he was the skipper of a big ship. ”

“ Noble Cleeford Gray Chasca!” There was a curl to his lip and Nicky thrust a hand against the table to push himself erect, but Mr. Whitley put a foot against his ankle none too gently in warning as the Spaniard proceeded. “But that is fine, that you shall be Chasca! You can help me.”
“You weren’t ambushed?” demanded Tom. “We thought——”
“There was some—how you say?—some ‘ta-ra-boom-te-ay’ in the pass of snow. My men all run away back. Me, I am desert in snow to freeze. But I get here—late. You are already fix up very nice.”
“I warned you about the pass,” Bill reminded him. ”