The Hero of Panama: A Tale of the Great CanalBrereton, F. S. (Frederick Sadleir)
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The Hero of Panama: A Tale of the Great Canal
Brereton, F. S. (Frederick Sadleir)
Panama Canal (Panama) -- Juvenile fiction
"Den hang um," simpered Tom, his eyes rolling. "Dem scum not stand de
chance of a dog, I tell yo. Massa Jim, yo make um buzz right along like
dis; and den, by lummy, yo see what we do to um. Nobble dem rascals
precious quick. Kill um; wring de neck of de villains."
Jim scowled at the negro, for such threats vexed him. Then, seeing the
broad smile on Tom's face, he laughed outright.
"Jest like you, Tom, always threatening. I don't believe you'd actually
hurt a fly unless you were forced to. But have a care, my lad; this
boat's over-loaded, and if I hear too much from you I'll give Ching
orders to send you overboard. Get lower, man; your big body meets the
wind and keeps us from moving forward."
The mere suggestion that he might be tossed overboard caused the
simple-minded Tom to open his big eyes wide in consternation. His huge
jaw drooped; then, hearing his young master's merry laugh, the thick
lips split asunder, and a loud guffaw came from the negro.
"Wat dat?" he demanded. "Yo ask dis man here to throw Tom overboard? By
de poker, but if dis Chinaboy breathe one little word, me smash um. Tom
nasty fellow to deal with when him angry."
But Jim had other matters to attend to rather than to listen to the
negro's sayings. Indeed he had already turned his back upon the two men
crouching astern, and was bending over the engine. Fumbling at the lock
of a cupboard, he pulled the door open and extracted a heavy object from
within. His finger pressed a button, and instantly a flood of light came
from the electric torch he had secured. For five minutes he busied
himself with the motor. Carefully adjusting the drips from the
lubricator, he set them to give a more liberal supply than was usual.
Then he lifted the board which covered the tail shaft bearing, and
squeezed down the grease cup secured there. A finger laid on the top of
the bearing assured him that it was running cool, while the same
precaution in regard to the cylinders disclosed the fact that the water
pump was working as it should do. In fact, in spite of the tremendous
pace at which the motor was revolving, there was as yet no sign of
failure, nothing to point to an immediate breakdown, nothing, in fact,
to lead him to suppose that the chase would have to be abandoned.
"Then I can begin to take a little interest in those rascals," he
thought, "Ah, we're nearer, we're overhauling them without a shadow of
doubt! I give them a quarter of an hour's more freedom."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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