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 
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE 
PIRATE OF PANAMA *** 
 
Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed Proofreading 
Team at http://www.pgdp.net 
 
[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.
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