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Uncle Sam's Boys as Lieutenants, a fiction by H. Irving Hancock |
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Chapter 19. Rascals And Money Talk |
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_ CHAPTER XIX. RASCALS AND MONEY TALK Hal turned quickly, to see if any of his men had been hit. "Not one hit, but it's a wonder," Noll informed his brother officer. "The bullets of those fellows made a pin-cushion of the air all about us." "Ready, men! Load, aim!" ordered Lieutenant Overton. Then he added, in a lower voice: "If I give the word 'fire,' be sure you sweep that stranger's deck clean." "Don't you dare fire on us," yelled the same hoarse voice. "There are ladies aboard!" "A likely yarn!" Hal jeered hotly. "If you fire you'll find that there are. Now, sheer off!" "You lay to," insisted Lieutenant Hal. "We're coming aboard." "You only think you are!" "Will you lay to?" "No!" "Run up alongside. We'll have to board 'em under way," Hal said, in a low voice. "Noll, head the men in the cabin. Order 'em to fix their bayonets. Don't bring them on deck until you find that we're boarding. Then be brisk about it!" As the "Restless" leaped in to lay alongside the stranger there could no longer be any doubt as to the grim intentions of the United States forces. From the deck of the stranger came another sheet of flame. Hal felt one of the bullets tear through his left sleeve, though without cutting the flesh of his arm. "Fire!" he gave the order. When they shoot, regulars are taught to do it coolly and with effect. Two or three yells from the stranger's deck greeted the volley, indicating that some had been hit. But above all there rose a woman's piercing shriek. "They really have a woman on board!" gasped Hal, feeling chill and sick for an instant. "Yes, you infernal scoundrels!" came in the same hoarse voice. "Oh, you'll pay for this outrage!" "Fix bayonets!" Hal ordered, quietly, for now the two boats were close together, and Helmsman Hank was running the "Restless" right in for a boarding. Bump! The two boats came together. "Prepare to board! Board!" shouted Hal, and was first to leap to the deck of the stranger, a craft some seventy feet in length and rather broad of beam. His soldiers followed him. All the young officers went over the side, and Lieutenant Noll led the reserves from the cabin of the "Restless." Right on the heels of the soldiers followed Skipper Tom and Engineer Joe, to lash the two craft fast. "Who commands here?" demanded Lieutenant Overton. There was no answer. "Where's the gentleman with the fog-horn voice who appeared to have so much to say?" Hal questioned sharply. None of the crew of the boarded vessel spoke. Nor was any further effort at resistance made. On the deck Lieutenant Overton found one Mexican dead, and another badly wounded. Near each lay a rifle. Another Mexican seemingly unarmed, stood by the wheel, looking on with a sickly grin, but saying nothing. Down in the engine-room huddled two other Mexicans. "Sergeant, search the man at the wheel, and then the pair down in the engine-room," Hal ordered. "If you find weapons on them, make the men your prisoners." Followed by Noll and a few enlisted men, the Army boy made his way aft to the entrance to the main cabin. Hal tried the door, but it resisted his efforts. "Open this door," he called, "and save us the trouble of breaking it in." "Don't dare break it in," remonstrated the hoarse voice. "If you do it will fall across the body of the woman you've probably already killed by your bullets." Hal felt another chill run down his spine, but he answered firmly: "If there's a wounded woman in there we'll do our best to rush her toward surgical help. But you'll have to open that door, or we'll do it for you!" "Then you'd better stand away, boy!" warned the hoarse voice grimly. "If you try to force your way in here you'll eat more bullets than you'll like." "Just what we're after," retorted Lieutenant Overton grimly. "We want to lay our hands on the men who fired on United States troops, and I know they must be in there, for they're nowhere else on the boat. Your deck holds only two out of all who fired. Going to open?" "_No_, you young hound!" "Put your shoulders to the door, men!" continued Hal, turning to the nearest soldiers. "I'll shoot the first man who comes through!" defied the voice behind the door, hoarser than ever. "And I'll shoot as many more as I can!" "Some of you men on the sides of the deck-house push your rifles through the cabin windows and be prepared to shoot if you have to," ordered Hal coolly. There was a crashing of glass as the rifle muzzles were thrust in through the cabin windows. Again the woman's shriek rang out. "If you have to fire," continued Lieutenant Overton, "take all possible care not to hit the woman." Bump! Bump! Even the sturdy cabin door was beginning to yield under the repeated impacts of so many pairs of shoulders. At last the door swung back on its hinges. "Back, men, but stand ready!" commanded the Army boy, pressing forward through the opened doorway. The handsome young lieutenant looked cool and undaunted as he stepped into the cabin, without a weapon in either hand. Hal found himself confronted by a big, purple-faced individual of perhaps middle age, who stood glaring at the intruder, a revolver clutched in his right hand. Back of him stood five Mexicans, each with a rifle, though the man at the moment was making no visible attempt to use his weapon. Behind the group a white-faced young woman, of perhaps twenty, stood clutching at a buffet for support. "I think you had a wager on that you'd shoot me," smiled Lieutenant Hal. "Instead, be good enough to hand your pistol to the sergeant." "I'll----" "You'll give your weapon up," Hal continued smilingly. "Sergeant, relieve the gentleman of his pistol. He's too nervous to have one; he might discharge it accidentally." The purple-faced fellow, who was evidently an American, opened his mouth as if to pour out a torrent of abuse. But the sergeant quietly wrenched the weapon from his hand. "Now, you Mexicans lay your rifles down on the floor," Hal continued, turning to the swarthier men. Hesitatingly they obeyed, for they realized that all hope of successful resistance was now gone. "What relation is this young lady to you, if any?" Hal asked, turning to the man. "He's my father," spoke the girl, instead. "Then, madam, he may remain in the cabin with you, if he chooses. Sergeant, clear all others out of the cabin." "What do you think you are going to do here, you young counter-jumper?" snarled the girl's father. "We are going to take this craft and all it holds back to Agua Dulce as a prize," Hal replied quietly. "Madam, you were not wounded in the least, were you?" "No," she answered, looking rather sheepish. "Then we shall not need to make so much haste on your account. But we have a Mexican up on the deck who may need attention in a hurry." "The fellow on the deck is only a Mexican," sneered the purple-faced one, all of his recent Mexican companions having been removed from the cabin by the soldiers. "He's a badly wounded man, whether he's an American, Mexican, Chinaman or Hindu," Hal retorted. "All men are entitled to humane treatment by soldiers. And I think I hardly need to remind you, sir, that you yourself have deemed it worth while to be associated with Mexicans." "Because business made it necessary," replied the American huskily, yet in a lower voice. "Almost every dollar I have in the world is invested in a part of Mexico that the _insurrectos_ hold and seem likely to go on holding." "The same old dollar excuse?" demanded Lieutenant Overton. "Are you another of the men who have grown to think that the straight and narrow path is found only in the space between the two parallel lines of the dollar-sign?" Then, turning, Hal went to the door of the cabin to call: "Lieutenant Terry!" "Here, sir." "Be good enough to inspect the cargo that this craft may carry, as speedily as you can. But we will begin here, and see what these piles are that have been covered with canvas at the forward end of the cabin." "Rifle cases, beyond any doubt," nodded Noll, as he and Hal switched away the canvas covers. "Cases that appear built to hold rifles and ammunition, up forward, Overton," called Prescott, coming to the cabin door. "Yes; this boat is a gun-smuggler beyond a doubt," nodded Lieutenant Hal. "Even if we found no guns aboard we could hold the craft for a pirate, for the conduct of her commander in having his fellows fire on us." "A pirate? Father, is that true?" called the young woman, in a startling voice. "Hush, child. You don't understand such things," replied the man. "But, if this be true? Oh, I must get out of here and get air. I am stifling." "I shall be glad to assist you to the deck, madam, if you will permit me," offered Prescott, gravely, removing his cap. At an almost imperceptible sign from her father the girl quickly moved forward and vanished with Lieutenant Prescott. "I take it you're in command here," muttered the father. "I am," Hal nodded. "Then I want to talk with you," continued the stranger. "Lieutenant, of course I know that you've got me in a nasty position. I want to see how you can help me to get out of it." "If you really are in a bad position," Hal responded, gazing into the other's eyes, "I do not see how I can help you, for I am only the officer concerned with seizing this craft. I am not going to be your judge." "Oh, yes, you can," continued the other, sinking his voice still lower. "We can fix it all, I know, with money!" _ |
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