The young volcano explorers

On the following day Professor Strong and the boys received a call from Isabel Valois and her father, the latter having just returned home from a business trip. Señor Valois was delighted to meet the professor once more, and an interview pleasing to both ensued, lasting an hour. In the meantime pretty Isabel talked to the boys and especially to Mark.

“It was splendid, that baseball hit!” cried the girl, enthusiastically. “I hated to see our Cuban club lose but I couldn’t help admire the beautiful way in which you played.” And Mark blushed like a girl and could hardly stammer out his thanks for her kind words.

Señor Valois was telling the professor of his various plantations when another visitor was announced. This proved to be January Jones, who had been waiting patiently to see Amos Strong about the position which had been more than half promised. As a result of this visit January was given work as overseer’s assistant on a Valois’s plantation ten miles out of Havana. This proved to be just what the darkey wanted and he was correspondingly happy.

Matanzas lies east of Havana about sixty miles and Cardenas is about twenty miles further. As said before, both are seaports, the first named lying almost due south from Key West. The railroad from Havana runs direct to Matanzas, but to get to Cardenas one must journey first to the little inland town of Jovellanos.

The trip eastward was begun bright and early on the following week and proved full of interest. The cars were crowded and the boys noticed that many of the travelers seemed well-to-do.

“Matanzas is, as a commercial city, next in importance to Havana,” said the professor as they rode along. “It has a large shipping and the population is nearly forty thousand. Not far from the city are located the Caves of Bellamar. I never visited them, but they are said to be of uncommon interest and beauty.”

“Let us go by all means!” cried Darry. “I just love caves and volcanoes and high mountains.”

Matanzas was reached in the middle of the forenoon, and before dining they paid a visit to the fortifications which had taken active part in the war, and also to a number of public buildings. Then they dined, and after that set out for the caves on muleback, along with a native guide, who owned the mules and who said he could take them around to every point of interest.

The mule he rode interested Darry very much, for, as old readers know, he took naturally to any animal that could be saddled. The mule was not very large, but he looked powerful and his gait proved a surprise.

“I really believe he could win a race on a pinch!” said Darry.

“Do you?” queried Hockley. “I’ll go you for a mile.”

Darry was surprised to receive such a challenge from the lank youth, but he did not hesitate to accept, and away went both lads before either the professor or the guide could stop them.

At first it was nip-and-tuck, for Hockley’s beast was also swift of foot, and it was not long before the racers passed out of sight beyond a turn. Professor Strong began to look serious but the Cuban guide only smiled.

“They will not run far,” he said, in Spanish. “And when they drop into a walk they will pay up for their speed by going slower than ever.”

Nevertheless, the others set off after the two in advance, for the guide feared they would take to the wrong road, one leading into the country and away from the caves.

This was just what Darry and Hockley did, and soon they came to what was little better than a rough trail, with thatched huts on either side. The mules kept together at first but presently Darry forged ahead.

“Whoop I here we go!” he yelled. “Look out for the mountain express!” And then he had to cling fast, as the mule switched his heavy-ended tail and kicked up with his rear hoofs.

Soon Darry reached what seemed to be the middle of a settlement, with huts on all sides. Here was a big stone cistern, filled with water, and with the top wide open. Several natives were at hand, some of them with buckets and shells.

As soon as he reached the cistern the mule Darry rode came to an abrupt halt. Looking back the boy saw that Hockley was now having his hands full with his steed, which was rearing and plunging in a most surprising fashion.

“Look out, Glummy, or he’ll throw you!” he sang out. “He’s getting his dander up!”

“He shan’t throw me!” panted Hockley. “I’ll show him who is master!” And he hit the mule on the neck with his fist.

By this time the professor and the other boys came riding up, along with the guide. Hockley’s mule kept dancing around, and they had to move from one spot to another to keep out of the way.

“Better get off!” began Professor Strong, when of a sudden the mule made a sudden bolt forward.

Four leaps took the animal to the low wall of the cistern and here he stopped abruptly. Then up went his rear hoofs like lightning and in an instant Hockley was thrown into the air. Down came the youth head first, to strike the water with a loud splash, and then he disappeared from sight.

A perfect roar of laughter went up, both from the boys and from the natives, and Professor Strong kept a straight face with difficulty. It was a truly comical sight, and when Hockley came up the boys had to laugh still more. In going down the lank youth’s head had touched the unclean bottom of the cistern and now his hair and face were covered with a greenish mud and slime awful to behold.

“Hel—help me out, somebody!” he spluttered, blowing the water from his mouth.

“I’ll help you,” answered the professor, and leaping to the ground he gave the unfortunate one his hand. Getting out of the cistern was easy and in a moment more Hockley stood in the roadway brushing the water and dirt from him and glaring savagely at Darry and the others.

“It ain’t no laughing matter!” he howled. “You shut up, or I’ll give you something to laugh about.”

“It’s too bad, Glummy,” began Mark, when he could suppress his feelings sufficiently to speak. “But you did look so funny——”

“I don’t want you to talk to me!” stormed Hockley, working himself up into a perfect rage. “You are all against me. I’m going back to the city, and maybe I’ll start for home to-morrow.”

“Be calm, Jacob,” put in the professor. “It was truly unfortunate, but there is no occasion for making matters worse by losing control of your temper. I dare say if I had been thrown into the cistern all of you would have laughed just as hard.”

“I don’t care, they are all down on me!” grumbled Hockley.

“I believe you only imagine it. Come, we will find some place where you can wash up and have your clothing dried.”

“I’ll go back to the hotel and change my clothing. I don’t want to see the caves.”

Hockley was obdurate, and in the end he was allowed to depart, after having washed up in a nearby hut. A native conducted him back to the city, so that he might not lose his way. Once at the hotel he lost no time in getting some liquor and a package of cigarettes, and, in the privacy of a room the party had engaged, lay down to read another “thriller” he had purchased before leaving Havana. But he was full of bitterness, and his resolve to “fix” the others was greater than ever.

The trip to the Caves of Bellamar proved of interest to the boys, who brought with them upon their return a number of specimens of beautifully colored stones to be found there. While in the caves they had great sport with the echoes, and the guide pointed out to them a spot in which over a hundred Cubans had been imprisoned and starved to death in years gone by, during one of the awful uprisings in that part of the island.

When the boys got back to Matanzas they were glad enough to rest in the patio of the hotel before attempting to re-arrange their toilets and dine. Mark and Frank sank into one hammock and Darry and Sam in another, while Professor Strong rested in an easy chair not far away.

While they were resting, Hockley, whose room was directly above the patio, heard them talking, and their apparent happiness caused a sour look to spread over his face.

“If only they had gone into that cistern instead of me!” he muttered to himself, and then his eyes rested on a bowl of dirty water he had left on the washstand. “Just the thing!” he added. “I’ll see how they like it.”

To catch up the bowl of dirty water was but the work of an instant and he crossed to the window under which the boys were sitting. But then he paused.

“If I throw it from here, they’ll know I did it,” he reasoned. “I’ll go into the hallway.”

The hallway led around a corner, and here was another window, also opening upon the courtyard. The place was deserted and the window was wide open. Looking to make sure that he was not observed, Hockley threw the water out and then turned and ran with all speed for his own room. He put the bowl where it belonged, went outside again, locked the door, and ran down the front stairs, leading to the hotel reading room.

The bully’s aim was true, and the scattering water covered all four of the boys pretty thoroughly, and even the professor did not escape entirely.

“My gracious, what’s this!” spluttered Mark, who caught some in his eyes. “Who threw that water down on me?”

He leaped up and so did the others. They gazed up at the hall window but could see nobody. Yet they knew that it had come from there and in the mind of each rushed the same thought:

“Hockley!”

“Of course he did it!” cried Darry, brushing off his shoulders. “He wants to pay us for laughing at him.”

“I’ll pay him!” returned Sam, and made a dash for the doorway of the hotel, before Professor Strong could stop him. The others came behind, the professor calling out that they must behave themselves.

It puzzled them greatly to find the door to the room locked. They pounded in vain and then had to wait until Professor Strong opened the door to the apartment adjoining. Then they passed through a connecting door.

“Nobody here,” said Sam, staring around. “If he did it he got out in mighty quick order.”

“Nobody in the hall,” came from Mark, who had taken a look around. “But I don’t believe a servant would have thrown that water into the garden.”

“The wash bowl is empty and the pitcher is less than half full,” came from Frank. “The pitcher was full when we left—the servant just came and filled it.”

“Let’s look for Hockley,” was Darry’s advice, but fearing a bitter quarrel and perhaps a fight, the professor told them to leave the big youth alone and prepare themselves for supper. As all were more than ordinarily hungry, this changed the current of their thoughts and they did as requested.

When they entered the dining hall they found Hockley waiting for them. He put on an injured air.

“Thought you were never coming to dine,” he grumbled. “Next time I guess I’ll eat alone.”

“You may, Jacob, if you feel too hungry to wait,” answered the professor.

“Say, Hockley, did you—” began Mark, when Frank pinched his arm.

“Don’t let on,” whispered Frank to his chum. “If he doesn’t know anything about it don’t give him the chance to laugh at us.”

“Did I what?” questioned the bully.

“Oh, it doesn’t matter,” answered Mark, unconcernedly.

And there, for the time being, the affair rested.