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Uncle Sam's Boys as Lieutenants, a fiction by H. Irving Hancock |
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Chapter 14. Affairs Take A Military Turn |
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_ CHAPTER XIV. AFFAIRS TAKE A MILITARY TURN As he did so Hal's hands touched against the wrists of Private Simms, who lay next to him. "Confound me, why didn't I think of that before?" the Army boy demanded of himself, a sudden, brief hope surging up in his breast. Then he tried it, to see how well it would work. Though he was bound at elbows and wrists, the young lieutenant's fingers were free. Wriggling slightly nearer, Hal fingered at the cords that bound Simm's wrists. That soldier felt and understood. Wriggling slightly nearer, and doing it so easily and gradually as not to attract the attention of the Mexican guard, Simms waited to see what would come of his officer's new move. Slowly, diligently, Hal worked at the first knot. He felt a thrill of joy when his busy fingers untangled that knot. Then another one, and another one. Simms's wrists were free! The soldier, without attracting attention so far, moved himself slightly so as to bring his bound elbows within easy reach of Lieutenant Hal's fingers. But there was no telling at what moment these fanatic Mexicans would discover what was going on, and balk it all. Simms's wrists were free. Slowly, the soldier tried to repay his officer. Then Hal's wrists were free; then his elbows. Two of the prisoners were now free, though they were careful not to move their arms in the least. Yet how much had been gained? Two men there were who might leap up and fight for their lives. But they were unarmed, while the alert Mexicans had revolvers in their hands and dirks within instant reach. Had either Hal or his man been able to roll over completely, one more comrade's knots would then be within reach. Yet, in rolling, either lieutenant or private would surely betray to the guards the fact that the cords were loosed from his arms. Nor could there be much doubt as to what the two desperate Mexicans would do in the face of any attempt at escape. Hal lay there deliberating, trying to plan some move that would carry with it a reasonable prospect of victory. Simms, fearing to spoil any of his officer's plans, kept wholly silent, though alert for any signal. "It's only the slimmest kind of a fighting chance yet!" muttered Hal. He would have been despondent, but his soldier's training had taught him that no situation is hopeless as long as life lasts. Then craft, slowly, but insinuatingly, entered the young lieutenant's head. "Confound you Mexicans," he growled aloud, "this is a bigger night for you than I had thought." "What mean you?" demanded the guard who spoke English. "I thought but one wagon train of your supplies would go to the water front this night." "Eh?" "And now, with my ear to the ground, I hear another lot of wagons in the distance, headed this way." The guard looked non-plussed. He stood erect, listening. Then he spoke in Spanish to his fellow-Mexican, who, answering only with a nod, stepped further away to listen. "I could tell you something, my friend, that it would be worth your while to know," continued Hal, craftily. "What?" "Only your ear shall hear it. Bend low, if you are curious." The guard, without fear of the supposedly bound captive, stepped closer, bending over the young Army officer. With a quick turn and a leap Hal Overton was up and at the throat of his captor. Taken so utterly by surprise the Mexican strove to leap back. But Hal had grappled with him and wrenched the revolver away. The Mexican reached for his handy knife. It was no time for niceties. Hal dealt the fellow a swift blow on top of his head with the butt of the revolver. Mr. Mexican crumpled and lay where he had stood. But the other Mexican was closing in now. "Get your hands up as high as you can, fellow!" ordered Hal. Just in the nick of time he remembered Captain Foster's instructions, and spoke in English instead of Spanish. But his gesture was eloquent enough for no words to be needed. The second Mexican showed no cowardice, yet in this threatened battle at close quarters he dropped his revolver for the more trusted knife. "Put your hands up and stop this nonsense!" commanded the young officer, stepping forward, holding the revolver at his belt, the muzzle covering the body of the swarthy foe. The Mexican proved to possess no mean courage. With his knife-hand uplifted he sprang at Hal. At that very instant a form hurled itself through the air. Private Simms fell at the feet of the Mexican. Without pause the soldier wrapped his arms about the Mexican's knees, throwing the fellow backward with jarring force. In another second Simms had possessed himself of the knife. "Good!" came a devout chorus from the five bound but watching soldiers. "Great!" "That was a fine specimen of soldierly wit and promptness, Simms," commended Lieutenant Hal heartily. "Not half equal to what I've heard that you've done in the Philippines and elsewhere, sir," replied Simms modestly, as he seated himself on the fallen foe. "Will you take this knife, sir, and free the other men, or shall I leave this fellow in your care while I set the men free?" "I'll free them," agreed Hal, taking the knife. Inside of a minute the young officer had five more serviceable soldiers at his orders. "Now, lash these two rascals," commanded Lieutenant Overton. "This fellow, first, whom I was obliged to beat with his own revolver." The tying was done by two of the soldiers. Then the wretch whom Simms bestrode was treated to some of the same sort of consideration. The pair of Mexicans were laid side by side, after which the soldiers sprang to get their cartridge belts and rifles. "Check and Varnum, you two stay here with your prisoners, and give them no license to shout or pass signals. Check, fix your bayonet, and stand over these fellows. If either opens his mouth, shove your bayonet into it. Varnum, make it your business to watch over Check and see to it that he doesn't get the noose from behind, as all of us did once." While speaking Lieutenant Overton was fastening on his own recovered revolver and cartridge box. "Now, you other four men," he concluded, "come with me. Silence and soft steps must be our watchword. Unless we have the worst sort of evil luck we'll find out what's going on at the water front." The distance was not great. Hal did not make the mistake of moving his abridged command of four men down the road. Instead they kept to the woods or behind bushes as much as they could. As he came within sight of the water Lieutenant Hal held up his hand--a signal to halt. Then he peered through the darkness. "Just about as I had supposed," he whispered. "Guarez has a tug in at the pier--a steam craft that will move out, as it came in, without lights." "Queer, sir, that some of the other men haven't acted--they must have seen the tug come in." "But I am supposed to be on duty in this neighborhood, and so are you men as sentries," whispered Lieutenant Overton. "Our other men, up the river and down, must imagine that we have taken care of the tug, if the craft needed such attention, and so the other men are holding their own posts according to their orders. Now, come on, men. Crouch low and make no noise. If you see me run for the pier follow without waiting for orders." The military party succeeded in getting within a hundred and fifty yards of the land end of the pier. From here Hal could make out the figures of men lifting the last two cases to the deck of the tug. At the same instant a man on the pier caught sight of the advancing soldiers. With a shrill whistle the fellow leaped to the deck of the tug, calling out to some one. Without loss of a second Lieutenant Hal sprinted forward, dashing on to the pier. In the engine room of the tug a single bell sounded--the moving signal. The last two cases had just been dumped on the deck, and two men leaped ashore, rushing for the shore-ends of the hawsers. "Lift that hawser and I'll shoot you!" warned Lieutenant Hal. "Who in blazes are _you_?" roared a deep, powerful voice from the deck of the tug. "I'll ask the same question of you, sir," shot back Hal, running up. "I'm the master of this tug, and _I_ give the orders here!" "I'm an officer of the United States Army, and your boat is undoubtedly to be seized by the government," Hal retorted. The gang-plank had been drawn in, but Lieutenant Hal, measuring the distance with the eye of an athlete, leaped on to the deck. Two of Hal's soldiers followed him aboard, the other two remaining on the pier. "What's your name, sir?" "Boggs," growled the master, a thick-set, powerful-looking, red-faced man of perhaps fifty. "What's yours?" "I am Lieutenant Overton, of the United States Army," answered Hal. Guarez and three other Mexicans ran out from the cabin and tried to leap ashore. "Don't let these Mexicans get away if you have to shoot them down," Hal ordered quickly. "They're United States prisoners." "This is a high-handed proceeding, Lieutenant," stormed Captain Boggs. "Isn't it?" jeered Hal. Then, to the soldiers on the pier: "Drive those two deckhands aboard, and stand ready to cast off, my men, when I give the order." "What on earth are you up to here?" blustered Boggs. "I'll tell you about that, sir, when I have time," Lieutenant Hal answered. The two deckhands having come aboard sulkily, the soldiers stood by the hawsers. "Cast off!" directed Hal. "Come on board, Captain Boggs, I'll trouble you to step into your own wheel-house." Pedro Guarez stood by the low rail, in the way of the party's progress forward. "Guarez, I'll trouble you to step aside." The Mexican snarled, made a move as though to reach for his knife, then sullenly obeyed and stood aside. At the door of his wheel-house Captain Boggs hesitated. "I don't believe I'll go into the wheel-house," he growled. "Guess again," rejoined Lieutenant Overton grimly. "Would you rather go in of your own accord, or be jabbed in there by a soldier's bayonet?" "You've no right to take such high-handed action," snarled the master of the tug. "You're in no position to decide that, Captain. You're a United States prisoner, at least until I have had opportunity to communicate with my superior officer. Go inside, sir." Boggs obeyed, and Hal stationed a soldier at the wheel-house door. "Now you Mexicans get back into the cabin," Hal continued, stepping back amidships. "We're going ashore," snarled Pedro Guarez. "You're going to _obey orders_," Lieutenant Hal retorted, "and I've ordered you into the cabin." Instead Guarez turned as though he would leap ashore. The tug had now drifted some six feet from the string-piece of the pier. "Squad, load!" ordered Hal sharply. "Shoot if you dare!" challenged Guarez. "My friends and I are going ashore." Then he addressed a few words in Spanish to his friends. The words were so rapidly uttered that Overton could not understand them. "Squad ready!" called Hal sternly. "Aim----" To the ears of the Mexicans it sounded as though the word "fire" trembled on the young officer's lips. Guarez led the wild rush into the cabin. Hal smiled. He had not had the least intention of firing upon the Mexicans. His seeming firmness had been enough. "Close the cabin doors on both sides, and guard 'em," Lieutenant Overton directed. "Simms!" "Yes, sir." "Run back up the road and bring Check and Varnum, and their prisoners here without delay." "Very good, sir." Simms measured the distance to the string-piece with accuracy, then he made a leap and landed. The engineer and fireman stood leaning out over the closed lower half of the engine-room door. "What do you want us to do, General?" demanded the engineer, with a grin. "Just stay where you are," Hal answered pleasantly. "Obey the bell-signals and keep steam up, and I don't believe you'll run into any hardship." _ |
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