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Uncle Sam's Boys as Lieutenants, a fiction by H. Irving Hancock |
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Chapter 16. After Swift Game |
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_ CHAPTER XVI. AFTER SWIFT GAME It was a ticklish position, and one that called for quick decision. If Lieutenant Overton ordered the tug back to the pier and remained where he was, he would be but obeying explicit orders. No blame could afterward attach to him, no matter how many boats got across. At the same time the young Army officer knew that he was stationed here for the express purpose of preventing any arms being smuggled over to Mexico. "Even though I capture a boat with ten thousand stands of arms aboard," flashed swiftly through the Army boy's mind, "Captain Foster can still say that I disobeyed orders. Yet if I obey orders there's no telling what mischief may be done." "Yet it seems to me that, when I am set to watch a violation of the national law, my first duty is to try to catch any one who attempts to violate the law," quivered the lieutenant. Suddenly Hal turned to the mate. "Go ahead, man--full speed! Catch that boat yonder!" No reply did the mate make, but he rang one bell for half-speed ahead. This he presently followed with the signal for full speed. The tug's propeller churned the water astern. For a craft of this kind the tug was now moving fast. Hal steadily held the ray of the search-light on the stranger. "Can't you hump a little more speed out of this tub?" the young officer demanded. "I can't signal for any more," replied the mate, his hands on the spokes of the wheel. "Why don't you ask the engineer?" Young Overton quickly summoned a soldier and sent him to the engineer with a message calling for more speed. After another minute the increase in speed was easily discernible. "But that boat's getting away from us," cried Lieutenant Overton, with irritation in his voice. "Of course she is," spoke the mate gruffly. "I could have told you that she'd show us a clean pair of heels." "What craft is she?" "I don't know," the mate replied. "Then how do you know she can beat us?" "By her build. She's a costly gasoline boat, and such craft usually have high-power engines in 'em." Hal sent another message to the engineer, who, however, sent back word that he was doing the best he could until draft made the fires under the boiler hotter. "Is the engineer dealing frankly with me, mate?" Hal asked. "I think he is. The engineer hasn't any object in seeing you lose this race." "We're losing it all right, anyway," grunted the young officer, noting the rapidly increasing distance between pursuer and pursued. "There ain't really any use in your trying to finish the race, sir?" hinted the mate. "We'll keep it up to the end." "Right to the Mexican shore?" "If we have to," rejoined Hal. "We may at least overhaul that boat before it has all its cargo ashore." "But you can't perform police duty on Mexican territory," urged the mate. "True," replied Hal, biting his lip, for in his haste and eagerness he had overlooked that point of law. "Besides," continued the mate, "you might butt right into a lot of assorted trouble. There may be a big force of Mexican rebels on hand to receive the arms. As they're already outlaws against their own government they would not hesitate about shooting into a small force of United States soldiers." "My men are not cowards," uttered Hal. "They can shoot back, and straight enough, too." "But you might be wiped out just the same, and, with you, the crew, who are not interested in such a fight." "Nothing would stop me," retorted Hal, "if I had the legal right to pursue to the Mexican shore and make such a seizure there. But it's pretty clear to me that I have no such right, and that I'd only get into trouble with my own government, though really doing the government of Mexico a big favor." "Then shall I put about, sir?" asked the mate. "Not until you get the order plainly," Lieutenant Overton returned dryly. "I've heard of such things as gasoline boats breaking down. The boat we're after may have that kind of luck before she gets out of United States jurisdiction." No such fortune for the young soldier happened, however. The gasoline boat, still followed by the rays of light from the tug, entered a cove on the Mexican side. Hal turned the light full on some moving objects on the bank of the cove. A score of figures were dancing there, and shouting derisively at the out-distanced American tug. From where he stood forward Hal could make out other men hurriedly lifting cases to the shore. "You got the best of us, for once, you brown-faced men," Hal laughed. "Head about, mate. We can do no good here. Do you recognize that motor boat yet?" "I do not, of course, and I note that her name has been removed from under the stern." Having turned about the mate headed back for the village of Agua Dulce. Just as the tug was making in at the village pier, Hal descried the figure of Captain Foster just stepping on to the pier. "My captain won't keep me guessing long, if he's really displeased," reflected Hal, with an inward quiver. "Tug ahoy, there!" hailed Captain Foster in a displeased voice. "Ahoy, sir!" Hal shouted back. "Haven't you been away out in the stream, sir?" "Yes, sir." Captain Foster asked no more for the moment, so Hal offered no further information. On the instant, however, when the deckhands leaped ashore with the hawse-lines Captain Foster called quietly, even if coldly: "Come ashore, Mr. Overton, as soon as you can." "Now I rather reckon I'm in for it," thought the young lieutenant, ruefully, though he was really torn with the fear that he had exceeded his own authority to a dangerous point. _ |
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