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Dave Darrin at Vera Cruz, a novel by H. Irving Hancock |
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Chapter 23. The Dash For The Traitor |
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_ CHAPTER XXIII. THE DASH FOR THE TRAITOR A Little later the hydro-aeroplane returned to Lieutenant Trent's position. Dave placed in the hands of the lieutenant the field note-book, which had been so carefully kept that any officer could draw a map from it at need. Lightly the big airship touched the earth just inside Trent's line. Dave, shaking hands with his temporary commanding officer, added: "Thank you for something I've always wanted---a flight over a real enemy's country." "I've greatly enjoyed having you with me," Lieutenant Bowers responded. "Trent, you've obliged me hugely by giving me so good an assistant. Good-bye, fellows." The birdman was again several hundred feet up in the air. "What kind of a trip was it?" asked Dalzell. "It was wonderful," Dave breathed. "And I've brought back news of great importance!" "Did you get it from Mexico City or Washington?" Trent broke in. "Of course not," Dave said, wonderingly. "Then you've no such news as we can tell you," Danny went on, quickly, sadly. "Can you guess what it is?" "Our government isn't going to surrender us to the Huerta forces, is it?" "Not quite so bad as that," Dan admitted. "But listen! The governments of Brazil, Argentine and Chili have offered their services in arranging mediation between Washington and Mexico City. And Washington has accepted!" "No war?" gasped Dave Darrin, thunderstruck. "No war against a country that has treated our citizens so outrageously? Has Huerta accepted, too?" "We haven't heard, as yet," Trent took up the thread of information, "but there is a rumor that Huerta will be only too glad to accept, even if only as a bluff. If, by any kind of a scheme, he can hold us off for a few weeks, he will then have his army consolidated, will have the railroad and bridges destroyed, and the mountain roads to Mexico City all planted with mines, and then be able, most likely, to make the advance of our Army to Mexico City cost us hundreds of good Yankee lives per mile!" "And Funston's brigade of regulars is on the way, too!" Danny Grin added, sorrowfully. "Won't there be some mad soldier-boys?" Ensign Dave Darrin stood with bowed head for a few moments. To him it seemed hard indeed, if the Mexicans, after almost countless outrages against American citizens, even to the extent of assassination---and worse---were to escape their richly deserved punishment through a few tricks of diplomacy. Then the spirit of the service, so strong in him, came to the surface. To others belonged the right of command, his only the privilege to obey. He raised his head, smiling. Then his own matter of report leaped back into his mind. Bringing his heels together, straightening up, he saluted: "Sir, I have the honor to report that, while on the air flight, I noted the location of a solitary adobe house about four miles out. From that house came two men whom I distinctly recognized through my field glass to be Lieutenant Cantor and the bandit, Cosetta. Lieutenant Cantor, after one or two upward looks, bowed his head and kept his eyes to the ground, but I am positive, sir, of my identification of both men." "And Cosetta's bandits?" inquired Trent. "Did you see any signs of them?" "No, sir, but the adobe house is large enough to hide them all." "Any trenches near the house?" "No, sir." "I am afraid it would do little good to approach the house in broad daylight," Lieutenant Trent reflected, excitedly, "but it should make an excellent enterprise late in the night. I will report this matter to Commander Dillingham, in command of the advanced line. With his permission, we'll try to-night for the capture of that much needed pair of rascals." "Our signalman is being called from the advanced line, sir," reported a saluting sailorman. Wheeling, Trent ordered his own signalman to wig-wag, "Go ahead." Then the lieutenant stood reading the message. "You will fall back upon the advanced line," the signal read. "Send 'O.K.,'" called the lieutenant. "Sir," cried a sentry, "There's a party coming in. You can just make 'em out, sir." Stepping forward, Trent brought up his fieldglasses, while Dave informed him: "That was the second matter upon which I intended to report to you, sir. I observed those people from the airship. I believe them to be refugees." Immediately Lieutenant Trent signaled the advanced line, reporting the party seen out on the plain. "Then wait and escort them in," came Commander Dillingham's order. "O.K., sir," the detachment's signalman wigwagged back. In three-quarters of an hour more the painfully moving party reached the detachment. They were truly refugees, released from Mexico City and nearby points. The sight of these suffering people, some hundred and twenty in number, and mainly Americans, was enough to cause many of the sailormen to shed unaccustomed tears, and not to be ashamed of them, either! Every degree of wretchedness and raggedness was represented by these sufferers of indescribable wrongs. Men, and women too, showed the marks of rough handling by brutal prison guards. There were many disfigured faces. One man carried in a crude sling, an arm broken by a savage Mexican captor. Such spectacles were of daily occurrence in Vera Cruz! These wretched men, women and children had been on the way on foot since the middle of the night, having painfully trudged in over the twenty-five-mile gap in which the tracks had been torn up. Ordering his men to fall in, Lieutenant Trent escorted the patient, footsore procession in to the advanced line. The sailormen adjusted their own steps to those of the sufferers. As they moved along Coxswain Riley vented his feelings in an undertone: "We need only a band and a dead march to make a funeral of this! And---yet---no war!" From the slow-moving ranks came only a deep, surly growl. Lieutenant Trent turned around, then faced front once more; he had no heart to utter a rebuke. Mingled cheers and growls greeted the arrival of the pitiful fugitives at the advanced lines. The cheers were for the fact that the refugees had at least escaped with their lives. The growls were for the Mexicans responsible for this spectacle. "We must secure conveyances of some kind to take these poor people into the city," declared Commander Dillingham. "I will send a messenger to ask for the best sort of carriages that can be found in a place like Vera Cruz. Lieutenant, as the second airship is returning yonder, your duty outside the lines is over. You may march your men to the camp yonder and let them rest until they are needed." "I wish a word with you, sir, when possible," Trent urged. "At once," replied Commander Dillingham. Darrin was with Lieutenant Trent when he reported the discovery of the whereabouts of Cantor and Cosetta. "It wouldn't do any good to go out in the daytime," the commander decided. "The fellows would see you coming, and take to their heels toward the interior before you came within rifle range. You will have to go after dark, Lieutenant, and better still, towards midnight. In the early evening they might be watching for an American advance, but late at night they would decide that their hiding place is not suspected. You will plan, Lieutenant, to leave here at a little before eleven o'clock to-night, which will bring you to the adobe house about midnight. I will communicate my information to the commander of the forces ashore, and, if not reversed by him, my present instructions will hold." The orders were not reversed. At 10.45 that night Trent marched his detachment beyond the advanced line. Every man moved as softly as he could, and there was no jingling of military accoutrements. Finally the adobe house stood out dimly against the night sky at a distance of less than half a mile. "If Cosetta has his men with him, they are doubtless sleeping outside, on their arms, tonight," Lieutenant Trent explained, after a softly ordered halt. "When we attack, Cantor and perhaps Cosetta, will try to escape from the rear of the house, making a quick dash for the interior, while Cosetta's men try to hold us in check. Therefore, Darrin, I am going to let you have fifteen men. You will make a wide detour of the house, and try to work to a position in the immediate rear. You will have your men lie flat on the ground, and I will take every precaution that my men do not fire upon you. If you see Cosetta or Cantor, you will know what to do." "Aye, aye, sir," responded Ensign Darrin. With the stealth of a cat Dave advanced, revolver in hand. He was behind the house, and within forty feet of the back door, when a crashing fire ripped out in front. Cosetta's men, lying on the ground, had failed to note Darrin's flanking movement, but had discovered Trent's advance. Suddenly the rear door flew open, and two men dashed out. "Halt!" shouted Dave, dashing forward. Cosetta reached for a revolver. Before he could produce it Darrin's bullet laid him low. But Cantor sprang at the young ensign with such force as to bear him to earth. One of Cantor's hands gripped at Dave's throat. In the traitor's other hand flashed a narrow-bladed Mexican knife. "The score is settled at last!" hissed Cantor, as he drove the weapon down. _ |