"I don't blame Quesada for beating it to the tall timber," he muttered disgustedly. "But what about Goodwin?" The _Dauntless_ turned to follow, but her master was unfamiliar with the shoals and reefs lying close to the land. He reluctantly slackened speed to feel his way inshore. The _Juan Lopez_, handled by one who knew where he was going, made straight for a small bight of the coast where the jungle crept, tall and dense, to the beach. The marines opened fire when the converging courses of the two vessels brought them within extreme rifle-range of each other. The _Juan Lopez_ showed no intention of heaving to. Her crew could be seen running to and fro, working furiously at the tackle of the boats, making ready to drop them overside. The volleys from the _Dauntless_ seemed only to quicken their industry. "Oh, for a Maxim or a Colt's automatic!" sighed the captain of marines. "I'd make that wicked old tub look like a porous plaster. Who ever dreamed the beggars would do anything but surrender?" General Quesada had obviously concluded that it was better to try to find another ship and more guns and rascals than to cool his heels in an American jail. The flight of the _Juan Lopez_ ceased abruptly and at full-tilt. She grounded close to the beach, and the shock was so great that her ancient funnel was jerked overside as if it had been plucked out by the roots. Many of her crew tarried not for the boats, but jumped overboard, bobbed up like so many corks, and scrambled through the surf to scuttle headlong into the jungle. The disappointed marines were within effective shooting distance, and they merrily peppered the vanishing rogues. The _Dauntless_ swung her boats out and a landing-party was swiftly organized. The boats of the fugitive filibusters were more or less screened from view by the intervening hull of the _Juan Lopez_. A sharp lookout was kept for the bulky figure of General Quesada himself. Somehow he escaped observation. Before the marines had set out for the shore, the last runaway from the _Juan Lopez_ had fled across the beach and buried himself in the jungle. The stranded ship had emptied herself as by magic. It was concluded that General Quesada had been among the crowd which filled the boats and floundered pell-mell through the surf. "The boss pirate got away from us," disgustedly exclaimed Jack Devlin. "There is no use chasing them through the jungle," said the captain of marines. "They will scatter like a bunch of fire-crackers, and we should be tangled up and lost in no time." "I did not see Goodwin anywhere," replied Devlin, looking very anxious. "The hull of the _Juan Lopez_ was between us and the boats, so that we couldn't see all of them go ashore. Goodwin may have been taken into the jungle. If he had been left behind on the ship, he would be making signals to us by now." "He would if he were alive," dolefully muttered the steam-shovel man. CHAPTER VIII WALTER SQUARES AN ACCOUNT