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Uncle Sam's Boys as Lieutenants, a fiction by H. Irving Hancock |
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Chapter 11. Lieutenant Hal's Sword Guards The Door |
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_ CHAPTER XI. LIEUTENANT HAL'S SWORD GUARDS THE DOOR Having learned the location of the barn, which was about a third of a mile away, Captain Foster signed to Lieutenant Hal to accompany him. "I shall leave you outside of the barn when I go in, Mr. Overton. You may have a crowd around you in no time, for these Mexicans are easily excited. Be careful to handle them smoothly, and not to start any unnecessary trouble. At the same time, keep your eyes and ears wide open for any news that you may hear. Do you understand Spanish?" "I know a little of the kind that I learned in the Philippines," Hal answered. "You may be able to understand the Mexican patter, then. But don't let them know that you understand it." A brisk walk brought the two Army officers to one of the most substantial houses in the Mexican quarter. It was a two-story frame house, kept in a fairly tidy condition. Behind the house was a wooden barn, still larger. Captain Foster did not trouble himself to approach the house, around which there were no signs of life. Instead he walked hurriedly through the yard. Just as the two officers neared the barn the door was seen to slide on its roller. "Keep them from closing that door, Overton!" cried Captain Foster. Hal bounded forward, thrusting his right foot in the crack just in time to prevent the door closing. "I'll help you push that door open again," cried the captain. Between them they succeeded, driving the door back, wide open, revealing two scowling young Mexican hostlers. "You g'way!" snarled one of them in a surly tone. "Where's your master, Pedro Guarez?" demanded Captain Foster. "Dunno. He far away. G'way. I wanta close this door." "Don't you attempt to do it," warned Captain Foster stiffly. "Mr. Overton, stand here and see that these fellows don't close the door. I'm going to, look around inside." Just as Captain Foster stepped into the barn a rear door of the house opened quickly. A Mexican, rather better dressed than the average, ran hastily across the yard. "Here," he cried, in good English, though he panted as he reached the barn, "you must leave. You have no right here!" "Only Pedro Guarez can tell me that," retorted the captain. "But I am Pedro Guarez." "Then you're the man I want to see," returned Captain Foster, fixing Guarez with his keen eyes. "I am going to look through your barn and I may ask you a lot of questions." "I shall not answer, if you do. Get out! You have no right here!" "Then get a policeman, and get him here to arrest me," smiled the captain. A murmuring of excited voices was heard out in the road, after which, half a dozen Mexicans came hurriedly into the yard. They quickly crowded around the door. "You have a good many friends interested in your affairs, Mr. Guarez," insinuated the captain. "But come on; I am going through the barn." "I cannot say that it will be safe," retorted Guarez, with an expressive shrug of his shoulders. "Safe?" echoed Captain Foster sternly. "That's a question that an American soldier never asks." "Just as you will, then, Senor Capitain," returned Guarez. "I protest, but I cannot fight you--alone." "And you'd better stop all that talk of fighting, too," warned the captain. "Come, if you want to go through with me." Just then about a score more of excited Mexicans poured into the yard. "You see," cautioned Guarez. "You will stir up a lot of trouble, Senor Capitain." "Mr. Overton, don't let any of the rabble come into this barn for the present," directed Hal's company commander. "Come, Guarez, if you wish." The Mexican hesitated, for an instant. But he saw Captain Foster walk toward the haymow. "Come on, my friends!" cried Guarez. "You, too, shall see what this too-officious soldier dares to do here!" He spoke in Spanish, but Captain Foster understood, and so did Hal Overton. Instantly there was an excited rush on the part of the Mexican loungers outside, who tried to crowd past Hal. "Back, all of you!" ordered the young lieutenant. He spoke in English, accompanying his order with a gesture that any man might understand. But the Mexicans pressed against him, scowling and shaking their heads as though to imply that they did not understand. "Get back, every one of you," insisted Lieutenant Hal. "You know well enough what I am telling you." However, the Mexicans at the rear of the compact little crowd pushed against those in front. The Army boy was in danger of being pushed off his feet. In an instant Hal's right hand flew to the hilt of his sword. He spoke no word, now, but his face was white, his lips set and stern. The gleam in his eyes boded no good to the men in front of him. Swish! The sword leaped from its scabbard, its keen blade gleaming in the air as Lieutenant Hal made a swift cut about him. The steel struck no one, for the rabble drew back swiftly. Some thirty pairs of eyes flashed hatred at the Army boy. "Now, _keep_ your distance," warned the Army boy, coolly returning his sword to its scabbard. "Surely we can draw some steel of our own, friends," muttered one of the Mexicans. "If this soldier boy resists us again, or places his hand to his sword, let every man among us draw his own steel and rush in over his body!" Hal heard and comprehended, perfectly, but his orders had been not to let the Mexicans see that he understood their talk. So he stood there, smiling coolly. "Peace, friends, for a moment," broke in another Mexican, speaking in Spanish. "Then, if this young _soldado_ does not yield, it will be time to rush over him. If we finish him, no one can afterwards swear whose knife did the deed. After that the same thrust for his captain." Again Hal Overton comprehended, but he glanced, in cool inquiry, at the speaker as that fellow stepped forward. "See here, soldier," began the Mexican, speaking fluently in English, "Don Pedro has invited us into this barn. You have no lawful right to stop us." "I won't argue that with you," the young lieutenant answered steadily. "But you will have to let us pass. We are going inside. So why should you take a lot of blows that you need not receive? And my countrymen are excitable, some of them. I do not know that one or two of them could be restrained from using a knife on you." "They'll know more afterward, if they try it," laughed Hal, as though the situation amused him. "But I would advise your friends not to try it. You and they are going to move back, now, and thereafter any man who gets within ten feet of me I am going to run through with my sword." Hal tapped the hilt of his weapon lightly, then started to push the rabble back. There were many mutterings. Lieutenant Overton did not know at what instant he might feel the sharp prick of steel. If he felt any fear of such a fate nothing in his cool smile betrayed him. The crowd fell back, though there was no assurance that their smouldering wrath might not flame up at any moment. Hal's life still hung on a thread. A breath, and these sullen, excitable men would hurl themselves upon him. In the meantime, Guarez, realizing that his friends might not come immediately to his assistance, had scowlingly followed Captain Foster to the haymow. That officer picked up a pitchfork and began to prod the hay. "I forbid this!" cried Guarez, in a deep, dramatic voice. Captain Foster paid no heed. Soon the captain drove his implement through the hay, and against something that gave back a resistance like that of soft pine. With a skill that he had acquired as a boy on a farm the captain began to pitch the hay. "Stop! You have no right!" thundered the Mexican. But Captain Foster had uncovered two packing cases and continued energetically with his work. "Will you stop?" howled the Mexican, advancing upon the man in uniform. "No," returned Foster briefly. "I'm here on business." "Come in, my friends!" howled Pedro Guarez. "Never mind the young tailor's model at the door." The Mexicans outside heard, and the appeal frenzied them. Four or five started toward the barn-door, the rest closing in behind them. Swish! Lieutenant Hal's sword was again in the air. "Who wants to come first?" demanded the Army boy dryly. The rabble paused, then crowded back slowly. There was something in Hal Overton's cold, steady, masterful eyes that awed them more than any fears of their own. Captain Foster tossed and threw hay with a will until he had uncovered a compact pile of small packing cases. "Sixty," he announced, after a quick estimation. "And each case, Guarez, contains ten rifles. Six hundred in all--enough with which to equip quite a respectable _insurrecto_ regiment on the other side of the Rio Grande." "There are no rifles there, nothing with which to make war," snarled the fellow. "I accept your statement, with reservations," replied Foster dryly. "Even though they were rifles, the United States law does not forbid one to buy or sell guns," insisted the Mexican. "No; but it does forbid your shipping them over the border," rejoined the captain. "But I have not attempted to ship anything over the border." "Nor will you, Guarez. I might continue my search, and unearth other rifles, or perhaps cartridges. But I know enough for my purpose, and I am through here." Captain Foster turned and left the mow, followed by the owner of the place. "Come, Mr. Overton," ordered the company commander, stepping to the side of his junior officer. The assembled Mexicans followed them with flashing eyes. Out in the street Captain Foster espied an American cowboy in the near distance. Shouting, the captain attracted the attention of the man, who galloped up. "Do you know where my men are encamped?" inquired Foster. "Sure," nodded the cowboy. "Will you do me the very great favor of taking a note to the officer in command at the camp?" "Sure," nodded the cowboy, with the same brevity. Captain Foster hastily wrote the note, handing it to the man in saddle. "This talk-talk paper will be at your camp in less'n five minutes," volunteered the horseman. "You going to remain here. Captain, for a little while?" "Yes." "Then look out, or some of the Greasers will play jack-knife with you. They're just aching for trouble, Cap." The cowboy was gone in a cloud of dust. Captain Foster and his lieutenant did not again attempt to enter Guarez's yard, but the older officer whispered something that made the younger officer smile. Some twenty minutes later Sergeant Raney, of Hal's platoon, turned the nearest corner and marched down the street at the head of a file of twelve soldiers. "Sergeant," announced Captain Foster, "there are at least six hundred rifles in that barn. I have no legal right to seize the guns while they lie there. You will camp here and mount guard." "If any attempt is made to move the cases you will send men with them to make sure that they do not go to the river. If any attempt be made to send the cases away in small lots, so as to split your detachment, you will then signal the camp with the rockets that you have brought with you." "Very good, sir." "Pitch camp at once, and maintain watch over that barn day and night." "Very good, sir." An ominous growl ascended from the Mexicans, who had overheard. But, with a quiet smile at his lieutenant, Captain Foster walked away, remarking: "They have guns enough there, Mr. Overton, but we've spiked 'em." "But I suppose, sir, that the Mexicans may have other rifles at other points not so far from here." "That we shall learn, Mr. Overton, as soon as we can. We shall also watch the river." Captain Foster and his lieutenant then returned to camp for a brief period of rest. Both were well satisfied with the early forenoon's work. There was, however, as Foster guessed, other and grimmer work yet ahead of the military. _ |
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