At length the pursuit was called off. The dungaree-clad men who had arrived at such an opportune moment, came towards the knot of cadets.
"Wal," drawled the foremost, "I guess we just cleared up that lot."
Geoff could not conceal his astonishment. The speaker was the lean-featured American who had addressed the cadets in the Babylonia.
"You have," he replied gratefully.
"I reckon that greaser will feel a bit sick with himself," continued the man. "He's a Mexican sure, though I didn't expect to find him here in Rio. There's a time to sit tight and a time to vamoose, sonny. I reckoned there'd be a set-to, so I just slipped outer it to round up the boys. I guess you felt that sore when he started monkeying about with that flag of yours so you just went for the greaser."
Geoff shook his head.
"It wasn't that," he replied. "Of course I wanted to boot the blighter—we all did—but when he hacked at that dog with his hoof I simply couldn't help going for him."
"I guess I didn't see that part," said the Yankee. "I'd slipped out to get the boys together. Seems we were right there. . . . Much damage? No, sir, the U.S. Ambassador here won't stand for that sort of thing. To-morrow there'll be trouble for some folk. What's your ship?"
Fairclough supplied that information.
"That hyer clipper a-lying off Botafogo?" inquired the man. "Wal, I reckon you'd best come aboard us—the S.S. Hetty Q. Wilson—until your boat shows up."
"She's to be here at midnight," said the Senior Cadet. "It's nearly that now."
"It sure is," agreed the man, who turned out to be the Second Officer of the Hetty Q. Wilson. "We'll stay here right now till your boat takes you off. 'Tain't exactly healthy for you guys, I guess."
The cadets were very glad for their American friends to remain, especially as there were indications that some of the less timorous of the mob were hanging about waiting for another opportunity for revenge.
As a matter of fact it was nearly one in the morning before the Golden Vanity's boat arrived at the landing-place. Directly she ran alongside the steps the Americans bade the cadets good night and walked back to their ship.
"Hallo, you fellows!" exclaimed Third Officer Kelso, as he caught sight of the tattered and battered cadets. "Been ratting?"
"No, sir," replied Fairclough, with a grim laugh. "We've been ratted. After this I can feel sympathy for a hunted rat!"
CHAPTER XIX. Countermanded Orders
Peter Kelso asked for no further explanation. If necessary that would be forthcoming should the Old Man get to know of the fracas. Judging by the appearance of the leave-party, Captain Corbold certainly would.
It was not until the boat was on her way back to the ship that Geoff realized that he was not in the motor-launch but in the boat fitted with the outboard engine. Taking into consideration the reaction through which he was now passing, it was not altogether to be wondered at that he failed to give significance to the fact.
"Come and take her," said the Third, relinquishing the short, vibrating tiller. "Yes, she started up quite easily. Jolly good thing she did."
"I'm glad," rejoined Geoff.
"So am I," agreed Kelso. "We had a pretty kettle of fish, I give you my word. Strachan went ashore to fetch the Old Man at six bells. He took the launch. Now that launch has been running like a clock for months; but dashed if she didn't break down when she was on her way back to the ship. It was blowing a bit at the time, and the boat's crew couldn't make headway with only two oars. The result was that the launch was well on her way across Rio Harbour before we found out what was wrong. Fortunately there was a signal lamp in the launch, and the Old Man called us up. I could have sent a boat away under sail, but she couldn't beat back with the launch in tow. It would have taken a couple of hours to tow her under oars; so I thought I'd try this packet. The motor fired first pull. We were alongside the launch in ten minutes, and back alongside the Vanity half an hour later. Gearing up that magneto did the trick, Ensor. The Old Man forgot all about the launch breaking down when he found the outboard motor had done so well. I told him it was your idea about the mag."
"You needn't have done that," protested Geoff.
"Well, I did, so that's that," continued the Third Officer. "He was like a kid with a new toy. Before he went up the side he stopped the engine and restarted it three times. I shouldn't be surprised if he's waiting to see her come back."
"Hope he's not, sir," remarked Fairclough, ruefully glancing at his grimy uniform.
The Senior Cadet's forebodings were ill-founded. The Old Man had turned in before the boat ran alongside. Silently the cadets made their way to their quarters, where for the next half-hour they were busily engaged in washing themselves and applying arnica and adhesive plaster. There were many anxious consultations concerning the fate of certain white drill uniforms—whether they would pass muster after passing through the hands of the laundry men or whether their condition condemned them to be summarily dumped overboard. On top of it all was the dismal prospect that the Old Man would take a serious view of the row and restrict their leave for the rest of the voyage.
"The morning after the night before" feeling was in the air when the cadets turned out. Bruises that had escaped notice during and immediately after the scrap were now painfully in evidence. Almost everyone complained of stiffness. One or two had black eyes.
"We might have been licked," remarked Davis, the sublime optimist. "As it was we knocked seven bells out of the blighters."
"Yes, but if those Yanks hadn't turned up——" objected another.
"Yes, it was rather a pity," continued the Welshman. "If only we could have scored off our own bat!"
Fortunately the lads were not to wear uniforms that morning. Word had been passed that they were to wash down the after-hold before taking in a cargo of coffee, so dungarees were the order of the day. And as Captain Corbold did not appear at inspection, that duty was performed by the Chief, who, remembering his cadet days, did not ask the reason for the battered condition of some of the lads.
Geoff and Bernard were hard at it working with squeegees while Fairclough, handling the hose, treated the working party to a shower-bath, when word was passed that the two chums were to "shift"—in other words wash and change into other clothes—and report at the Captain's cabin.
Without any preliminaries the Old Man explained matters.
"I've heard from the owners," he said. "They've come to an arrangement with your respective parents concerning your passages. It's rather an unusual step, but they are prepared to accept you as probationary cadets for the voyage. Any objection to the arrangement?"
"Not at all, sir," replied both lads heartily.
"A' right," continued the Captain. "I'll take you ashore and get the agent to fix up your papers. Tell Mr. Kelso from me to have the boat alongside—the outboard motor one. By the bye, Ensor, Mr. Kelso tells me that it was your idea about that magneto. Very smart of you. Your zeal is most commendable."
That was all the reward Geoff expected and received. He did not know that by getting the hitherto stubborn engine into a state of efficient docility he was putting nearly £50 into the Old Man's pocket. Provided the engine gave no further trouble Captain Corbold could report favourably on the make, and the owners would give an order for one motor to be supplied to each vessel of their fleet. And the Old Man would pocket a commission from the manufacturers.