WALTER SQUARES AN ACCOUNT
cruel deeds done in this Bay of Panama in days gone by.
The men from the boat halted on the staircase, and presently Walter heard the rumbling undertones of General Quesada. A door was opened, and the swarthy sailors from the Juan Lopez filed into the room. They closed around Walter as if intending to take him with them. He wanted to motion them away, to show them that he was an American, that he could take his medicine like a man, but, alas! the brave, boyish impulse came to naught. He could only stare stupidly at one and the other, as if beseeching them to reveal their purpose. The mate in charge of the party, a sprightly, shock-headed fellow with gold rings in his ears, liked the lad because he made no foolish outcry, and tried to cheer him with a friendly grin.
They escorted him to the sea-wall and thrust him into the boat. If he shouted for help, only the Panamanian sentries posted along the ancient fortification would hear him. It was no business of theirs if a sailor was being carried off to his ship. In the stern loomed the broad, shapeless figure of General Quesada. The oars made bright flashes in the phosphorescent
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