The Pirate of Panama

William MacLeod Raine


The Pirate of Panama, by William MacLeod Raine

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Title: The Pirate of Panama A Tale of the Fight for Buried Treasure
Author: William MacLeod Raine
Release Date: September 24, 2007 [EBook #22752]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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[Transcriber's Note: The author refers to George Fleming's brother as both "Harry" and "Henry" in this story. The original naming has been retained.]
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[Illustration: "PERHAPS I COULD DRESS THE HURT." SUGGESTED MISS WALLACE A LITTLE SHYLY. Frontispiece. p. 109]
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THE PIRATE OF PANAMA
A Tale of the Fight for Buried Treasure
By WILLIAM MacLEOD RAINE
Author of "Wyoming," "A Texas Ranger," "Bucky O'Connor," "Brand Blotters," "Mavericks," Etc.
G. W. DILLINGHAM COMPANY PUBLISHERS--NEW YORK
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Copyright, 1914, by G. W. DILLINGHAM COMPANY
The Pirate of Panama
Press of J. J. Little & Ives Co. New York
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TO CAPTAIN FORRESTER
FIRST MATE ROBERT, QUARTERMASTER WILLIAM AND BO'SUN KENNETH
THIS VOYAGE OF THE ARGOS IS DEDICATED
Ho, gallant tars and true, fall to! Up anchor, lads, and sheets unfurl. Let engines throb a low tattoo; It's "All aboard for Panama."
The snell wind whistles shrill o'erhead, The bullets spatter thick below, By candle light we count our dead, While we are bound for Panama.
For all true men waits hidden gold, 'Gainst all true hearts fight pirate foes, Who bears him with a courage bold Will land with us at Panama.
Into the deep drive strong and sure, Straight as an arrow for the goal, From off the course let nothing lure, The breeze is fair for Panama.
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CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. A Scrap of Paper 7 II. Captain Bothwell Interrupts 22 III. Concerning Doubloon Spit 39 IV. The Man With the Secret 51 V. We Find a Ship 61 VI. The Missing Corner 72 VII. In the Fog 84 VIII. Aboard the Argos 91 IX. Bothwell Makes a Move 101 X. Another Stowaway 110 XI. Taking Stock 123 XII. My Unexpected Guest 137 XIII. Mutiny 147 XIV. The Battle 161 XV. The Morning After 168 XVI. The Night Attack 178 XVII. A Taste of the Inquisition 189 XVIII. Anchored Hearts 207 XIX. Sense and Nonsense 214 XX. The Big Ditch 225 XXI. A Message from Bucks 237 XXII. Treasure-trove 250 XXIII. Aboard the Schooner 266 XXIV. A Rat in a Trap 280 XXV. A Rescue 292 XXVI. The Last Brush 299 XXVII. In Harbor 312
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ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
"Perhaps I could dress the hurt," suggested Miss Wallace a little shyly Frontispiece 109
"Crikey! I didn't know that was there," Jimmie cried 240
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THE PIRATE OF PANAMA
CHAPTER I
A SCRAP OF PAPER
It was a dismal, sodden morning, with heavy clouds banked in the western sky. Rain had sloshed down since midnight so that the gutter in front of me was a turbid little river.
A chill wind swept across the city and penetrated to the marrow. From the summit of the hill, three blocks above me, my car was sliding down, but I clung to the curb to postpone until the last moment a plunge into the flowing street.
Since I was five-and-twenty, in tip-top health, and Irish by descent, I whistled while the windswept drops splashed the shine from my shoes. Rain or sun, 'twas a good little old world, though, faith! I could have wished it a less humdrum one.
For every morning I waited at that same time and place for the same car to take me to my desk in the offices of Kester & Wilcox, and every day I did the same sort of routine grubbing in preparation of cases for more experienced lawyers to handle.
Sometimes it flashed across me that I was a misfit. Nature had cast me for the part of a soldier of fortune, and instead I was giving my services to help a big corporation escape the payment of damages for accidents caused by its cars. I had turned my back on the romance of life. Well, it was the penalty one must pay to win success.
And while I stood on the curb there fluttered down to me from the dun heavens an invitation to the great adventure my soul longed for. It came on a gust of wind and lay on the sidewalk at my feet, a torn sheet of paper yellowed with age.
I had no premonition of what that faded bit of parchment meant, no picture of men in deadly battle, of the flash of knives or the gleam of revolvers, of lusty seamen lying curled on the deck where they had fallen at the call of sudden death. The only feeling
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