CHAPTER XII

SENOR PEREZ ASKS FOR AID

Before the mud caused by the dropping anchor rose to the surface of the water, a shore boat containing two oarsmen and one passenger put out from the wharf and pulled for the _Denver_. That the passenger was in a hurry was evidenced by his gesticulating hands, and by the black cotton umbrella held by its bulging center which he waved in an attempt to make the clumsy boatmen pull together. From under the white cork helmet his dark face worked spasmodically as with a mixture of Spanish, English and German words he urged on his laggard crew.

Interested sailors and marines lined the ship's rail, watching the approach of the stout, excited little foreigner. His rapid speech was now quite audible though not intelligible.

"He is giving those peons what my mother would call 'gowdy,'" said Dick to Henry, "and that is her worst swear word."

"Meaning our excitable friend is rather strong in his choice of expletives?" inquired Henry.

"You've got it, Hank! His language is hot enough to make a bottle of Tobasco sauce weep tears of envy."

By this time the boat was within a few yards of the ship.

"Boat ahoy! What do you want?" hailed the Officer of the Deck.

"I want to see the Captain. I am the consul. I am Senor Perez. There is much trouble."

"Come alongside," ordered the Officer of the Deck, and walked to the gangway to meet the consul who, with surprising agility, sprang from his boat and waddled hurriedly on deck.

"Excuse the absence of honors, Senor, but we did not expect you. The Captain will see you at once, sir."

"I do not want the honors, I want the protection. I want----"

"Orderly, conduct Senor Perez to the Captain's cabin," said the officer, and still talking volubly the little man disappeared below, the marine orderly leading the way.

"It was a regular vaudeville show," said Private Jones later, hardly able to control his laughter while he related the interview to a group of friends accosting him for news after he came off watch. "The little Spig is our consul, all right enough, and after the Old Man had quieted him down a bit he appeared to be a pretty agreeable sort. But, say! He was going strong when he first opened up, and that's no idle jest."

"All right, Jonesie, cut that part and tell us what all the excitement's about."

"From what I gathered seeing the door to the cabin was open all the time," continued Jones, "he's all wrought up over the arrival of a bunch of rebels in the hills back of the town. He has just returned from a trip to the States; came on a Clyde Liner Saturday. His daughter was struck in the leg by a stray bullet during the revolution two years ago and has been in New York for treatment. He brought her back, also a new German governess for his four children, the oldest being this little girl--her name is Sol-la-de-da or something like that----"

"Guess you mean Soledad," volunteered Dick.

"That's it,--Soledad! Well, last night the rebs shot up the town, but no one was hurt. The little girl--he sort of worships her--was scared stiff, and so was everyone else. The government troops were afraid to leave the fort, but added their shots and shouts to the general uproar.

"Some of the bullets hit the consulate, and Perez believes, because he is the American Consul and Americans are unpopular with the rebs--also because he was active in electing the present president--that they are after him. He's a native of San Domingo, and I expect he ought to know what he's talking about."

"What did the Old Man tell him?" asked one of the men.

"The Captain told him he'd received orders not to send any forces ashore unless absolutely necessary; in other words, that we are not to get mixed up with any of the fighting at all if we can help it. He offered to take him and all his family on board for a while."

"What did the Spig say to that?"

"Oh, he went up in the air at first, but it was finally settled to arrange signals from his house to the ship, and if he was actually attacked he could send up a rocket or two and we'd land in a jiffy. You see, there are only about fifty insurrectos in the hills, so it's estimated, and there are two hundred government troops in the town, and the rebs are afraid to come in to attack, even though the federals are afraid of them. We are going to keep our search-lights on all night, and though we can't see the Spigs in the bosky they'll think we can, and that'll be enough to scare 'em. After that Mr. Consul went ashore with a bundle of rockets under one arm and his old bumbershoot under the other, mollified but not satisfied."

"Is that all you know?" inquired another inquisitive man.

"You can't expect me to remember everything; besides, I'm no evening paper," answered Jones.

"You ain't no yeller journal, that's sure," said Joe Choiniski, sneeringly, from the edge of Jones' audience. "I, for one, wouldn't give two cents to read all you've chawed about so far."

"Nobody asked you to butt in and listen," promptly answered Jones, looking at the speaker, who was none too popular, especially with the marines, "but I've got a dime thriller up my sleeve for the Sunday edition."

"Loosen up, Jonesie," said a big marine, tossing into the circle a quarter, which Jones deftly caught, "here's two bits; you can keep the change. What's the scandal?"

Rather proud at being the center of so much attraction, an honor not ordinarily accorded him, Jones continued:

"Well, the chief thing old Perez was excited over is a bunch of money he's got in his house. He's about the richest man in town, and is a kind of banker too, and he's got several thousands of dollars of government money in his keeping. He can't get rid of it, for the railroad is busted up. He's afraid to let the Commanding Officer of the government troops know about it, for the simple reason that a lot of pay is already due him and his men, and they'd be liable to confiscate it and his own coin too. He claims that the rebel chief is an enemy of his and wouldn't hesitate to kill him and his whole family if he heard about the money and could get it. He can't let the money out of his house for the reason he's received word a federal officer is expected at any old time to get it, and if he didn't have it ready for instant delivery, he'd always be in bad with the authorities, and----"

"You have done enough talking, young man," interrupted First Sergeant Douglass, who overheard the latter part of Jones' discourse, "and I want to tell you, if ever I hear you or any other orderly disclosing, without authority, official matters which you may happen to overhear while on duty in a position of trust, I'll see that you get well and properly punished. You may not have thought of it in that light, but it's a sneaking, unmanly trick, and marines are supposed to be men, not sneaks."

Private Jones was honest enough to feel the humiliation of this rebuke, but that did not stop the tales he told from being quickly carried to every member of the crew.

Soon after, "all hands" was called. Rifles and ammunition issued to the sailors and word passed that the landing force would sleep under arms until further notice, after which recall sounded and the routine drills were resumed.

Much to the disappointment of the crew, no one was allowed ashore, and though the town did not offer much in the way of diversion or entertainment, it was a new country and a new people for the majority, and all were naturally curious.

On the steep slopes of the hill, rising abruptly from the water's edge, nestled the little town, consisting of one principal street following generally a contour line, while from it on either hand were cobbled lanes and narrow paths with no general symmetry or direction. Back of the town on a spur of the mountain stood the red-walled fort, a winding road leading to its entrance. Barefooted soldiers in red caps and blue denim coats and trousers and armed with nearly every make of antique rifle lined the walls of the fort or marched along the road. At frequent intervals strange calls sounded on high pitched bugles to which no one seemed to pay the slightest attention.

Night fell! A glorious rising moon spread its effulgent rays over a peaceful scene. From the little village on the hillside came the tinkle of guitars, the shouts of playing children. The shore lights twinkled cheerfully, while in a large building a dance was in progress. Added to the moon's brilliancy were the beams of the ship's search-lights constantly moving over woods and town, making objects clear cut and distinct but casting massive black shadows where house or hillock intervened.

"This is the bloodiest war I've ever heard about," said Henry in disgust at the peaceful turn of affairs. "I do wish they'd start something, don't you, Dick?"

Dick glanced about at the sleeping men, their rifles by their sides, canteens and haversacks and bayonets within easy reach, ready for any emergency, but instead of answering he emitted an unintelligible grunt, turned over on his side and was soon asleep.

For two nights peace and quiet. The insurrectos had withdrawn from the near-by hills, so it was reported, but were guarding all the roads and keeping fresh supplies from reaching the inhabitants.

On Wednesday afternoon liberty was granted a limited number of officers and men. Henry, being on duty, was unable to go ashore, so Dick found himself alone soon after his arrival on the beach.

A small hotel attracted most of the men with its one decrepit pool table, tinny piano and refreshment cafe. The town was a little garden spot, each yard filled with a profusion of flowers. Dick turned to the left at the main street and strolled along in the direction of the consulate. Passing the house, easily the finest residence in sight, he noticed the bright colors of the American flag hanging from the white pole, and on the spacious piazza three children, olive-skinned and dark-eyed, waved their hands in friendly greeting to the young marine. He addressed them in his halting Spanish, but they hung back bashfully, making no reply.

Senor Perez's residence was at the end of the well-kept street on the outskirts of the town. Dick, not noticing where the winding road to the fort branched off, continued into the country before he became aware that the road was little more than a wide trail, which had turned and twisted away from the bay. Occupied with his thoughts, and the tropical vegetation and strange birds on every hand, he had gone much further than was his intention.

He was about to retrace his steps when a woman's scream from around the bend ahead arrested him. Though no words were uttered it was distinctly a call for help, and without a second thought Dick ran towards the spot. Arriving at the bend of the road he saw a young woman in the grasp of two disreputable looking natives, while a few yards beyond a half dozen others with rifles slung over their shoulders were turning off the trail into the dense underbrush.

The leading man of those in the distance carried a struggling child, a girl, in his arms. From where he stood Dick noticed her face was covered with a dirty cloth which stifled any outcry. The two men holding the woman were so occupied in keeping her from breaking away in pursuit of the men with the child, and attempting to gag her, that they were unaware of Dick's timely approach. The fact that the ruffians did not see him favored the attack which the boy delivered silently and swiftly. One of the men was holding the woman's arms while the other, bending, endeavored to bind them behind her with a piece of rope. She twisted her supple body and kicked vigorously with her stout walking shoes.

As Dick reached them he swung his right fist with all his strength on the jaw of the standing man, knocking him senseless to the road. Grabbing the other about the waist he fairly lifted him off the ground and threw him heavily.

Like a cat the native was on his feet. Rushing at Dick with a savage cry he drew back his right arm, in which was a dangerous looking knife. His assailant was within a few feet of him when Dick launched his one hundred and sixty-five pounds of brawn and muscle in a low tackle which did credit to his football training at Bankley. Unaccustomed to such a method of attack, the native had no chance at all, and again he fell to the path, his head striking against a rock; the knife flew from his hand into the bushes, and he lay there motionless.

In another moment Dick was up, and taking the pieces of rope he found near by, he quickly tied both men securely, nor did he do the task at all gently. The man whom Dick had first struck was now groaning, for the terrific blow had fractured his jaw; as for the other, it was not certain in Dick's mind whether he was dead or not, for he had not moved since his second fall.

For the first time Dick looked at the woman whose summons for help he had so effectually answered. To his surprise she was lying in the road, her eyes closed and face deathly pale. What should he do? Was she dead? Had her assailants dealt her some fatal blow? Had he arrived too late to save her?

Kneeling at her side Dick looked anxiously into her face; he felt incompetent to cope with this phase of the situation. She was a comely woman about thirty years of age, her fair complexion and light hair proclaiming her of a northern race. As he watched, the color began slowly returning to the white cheeks. He saw her lips move and bending he caught the one word they uttered:

"Soledad!"

He was still bending over her when the eyelids quiveringly opened and drawing a deep sigh the blue eyes of the woman looked straight up into the dark eyes of the brown-skinned boy, whose straight black hair and aquiline features, now covered in dirt and dust, brought to her mind but one thought--the horrible men who had attacked her. She started to scream, but the unspeakable terror again crept over her and again she fainted.

Dick's mind was working with lightning rapidity. The name "Soledad" must be that of Senor Perez's daughter; this woman must be the new governess! Her two assailants, securely bound, were no longer a menace, but the child was in a dangerous predicament. The German woman would soon regain consciousness and be able to secure help--but Soledad, the little girl already in mortal fear of rebels, who for two years had suffered from a former revolution, what of her? If he returned for help her abductors would be far away by that time. If he set out in pursuit at once he might overtake them and--and what?

He was unarmed! What could he accomplish against so many? Six men had disappeared in the tangle of woods,--there might be more, and those he had seen were armed with rifles. He remembered that point distinctly.

How fast his brain worked!--the pros and cons flashing before his mind's eye with kaleidoscopic clearness, in all their varying positions. Would those who had gone wait for their two comrades?

In that thought was a glimmer of hope, for it might be they were even now waiting not far off. Could he find them? The trail, the country,--all were new to him!

His roving eyes swept the two men lying at the roadside. Here were weapons. He at least would not go unarmed. Rising, he went to the trussed-up men and calmly took from them their revolvers, holsters and ammunition belts. The man with a broken jaw was suffering, but with the stoicism of a brute rather than of a man. From him Dick also removed a two-edged dagger in its sheath, while the fellow glared at him silently. A moment in adjusting his weapons, another to find his campaign hat, a final inspection of the bound legs and arms of the natives, a last look at the woman, who was showing signs of returning consciousness, and he was running off down the road. Not a mad dash such as he made in his attack, but the long swinging stride of the cross-country athlete.

It seemed to Dick as though hours had elapsed, when in reality the minutes had been but few. In the stress of action, when brain and mind, flesh and bone, nerve and muscle, are working in perfect cooerdination even Time in his flight appears to stop and wait. But Dick's mind was not engaged in thoughts of this character as he turned from the trail and disappeared into the tropical jungle on his precarious errand of mercy.

Fraeulein Stauche opened her eyes slowly. She almost feared to do so, for the last thing she remembered were the black eyes of a dirty ferocious native glaring into her own, his face so close she could feel his breath fanning her cheek. This time she saw nothing but the blue sky overhead. The sun, low on the western ridge, would soon sink, bringing a premature twilight hour to the little town nestling at the base of the lofty mountain. The glare, however, hurt her eyes and she closed them. It was easier to collect her thoughts thus. Why was she lying here under the open sky, and who had been the man staring at her when she looked but a second or two ago? Where was Soledad?

Soledad!

The name brought back with such startling poignancy the fearful tragedy through which she had lived that she struggled to her feet and looked about her in fear and trembling. She recalled how, with Soledad holding her hand, they had strolled along this path, when without warning two men sprang at her from the bushes and attempted to gag her, while others, how many she could not remember, grabbed her dainty little charge and ran along the path and disappeared in the thicket, leaving her fighting and struggling. She looked down the trail and caught sight of a man just turning where the others had turned.

What had they done with the child? What should she do? Fear was tugging at her heart and her knees shook with weakness. A movement at the roadside attracted her. She looked. Lying there were two men. They were now still, but the eyes of one were fastened on her. With a scream of terror, Fraeulein Stauche turned and ran as fast as she could for the town behind her.

At last the consulate--and from the pole flew the stars and stripes in the evening breeze! Thank the good God that the gray ship was in the harbor. Help would soon be forthcoming, and as she struggled on she prayed it would not come too late.

When the officers reported their divisions at evening quarters on board the _Denver_ that night another of the ship's force was among those missing. For Drummer Comstock had already been reported as absent upon the return of the liberty party at five-thirty, but now the Engineer Officer stated that Joe Choiniski had jumped ship.

"How do you think Choiniski got ashore?" asked the Captain of Mr. Ogden.

"The only solution I can offer is that during the noon hour, while the men were buying fruit from the bum-boats, Choiniski secreted himself aboard one of them. He was seen hanging around the port gangway at that hour in dungarees and Chief Master-at-Arms Fitch ordered him below."

"Did he obey the order?"

"Fitch does not know, sir. The Officer of the Deck called him at that second to drive away some bum-boatmen trying to tie up to the starboard gangway, and when he returned Choiniski was gone."

"That coal passer is a bad man, and I hope, now that he's gone, that we have seen the last of him; but, isn't it a strange coincidence that Drummer Comstock did not return on time? Do you attach any significance to that?"

"Oh, no, Captain, Comstock and Choiniski are not in the least friendly. They would not hob-nob together."

"That is not what I mean. I have heard that Choiniski threatened to get even with Comstock on account of the affair in Culebra. I was thinking that he might have made his threat good. I believe him capable of almost any act. I don't like his face."

"Here is Sergeant Douglass, sir; he may give us some information," said Mr. Ogden, and the Captain turned to the old marine.

"Sergeant, what have you heard regarding the actions of Drummer Comstock while on shore?"

"From inquiries, sir, I find he did not stay with the others, but went around town by himself. Some sailors were talking with him in front of the hotel, and they state that he started off for the fort. After he had gone some distance they also decided to visit the fort and followed him, but when they came to the road that leads up the hill they saw him still going along the main road in an easterly direction. They thought he acted queerly in not asking them to accompany him, for they were discussing the matter between them, and when they saw he didn't go towards the fort at all, they decided he must have some reason for not wanting them along. That was the last seen of the boy."

"Thank you, Sergeant, that is all. Let me know if you hear anything further."

"Aye, aye, sir," and Sergeant Douglass saluted and turned away.

"It's after six o'clock, sir, and if that is all for the present I will get ready for mess."

Captain Bentley was about to reply when the Gunner came hurriedly up the ladder and, spying Lieutenant Commander Ogden, he approached and saluted.

"Mr. Ogden, the chief gunner's mate reports to me that two Colt's forty-fives, and a dozen boxes of ammunition have disappeared from the armory since morning quarters. He put the revolvers away himself and locked the door--it is a snap lock--which was still as he left it when he went in the armory a while ago."

"Who has access to the armory, Mr. Nelson?" asked the Captain, and a dark frown appeared on his face. Too many inexplicable things were happening on board his ship this day to suit him, and he was becoming decidedly annoyed.

"I have the only key, sir, and I never allow anyone in the armory except the chief gunner's mate. Whenever he gets through his work there he always brings the key to me. Of course, Mr. Ogden has duplicate keys, as you know, sir."

"Does the chief gunner's mate permit anyone in there?"

"No, sir, I believe he obeys my order to the letter. A few days ago he asked and received permission to allow Drummer Comstock of the marines in there. The boy wanted to familiarize himself with the mechanism of the Colt's machine-gun."

"Hm-m-m-m! What do you think now, Mr. Ogden?" and Captain Bentley gazed scowlingly at the darkening shadows on the mountainside, and the lights appearing, one by one, in the houses ashore.

Even while he looked there came distinctly to his ears the loud:

Sh-h-h-s-h-h! like escaping steam as from the vicinity of the consulate a streak of fire shot into the air. Then came the sound of an explosion, while directly over the ship three green balls of fire cast a ghostly glare on the upturned faces of officers and men.

Senor Perez had called for aid!