Czytaj książkę: «Uncle Sam's Boys as Lieutenants: or, Serving Old Glory as Line Officers», strona 6

CHAPTER XII
THE STEP OF THE STEALTHY ONE

BY noon the soldiers at camp found themselves well rested. Nearly all of them had had some hours of sleep.

The midday dinner was served, the officers eating at the same time, though sitting apart from their men. As they finished, Captain Foster said:

"Overton, I shall leave you in command of the camp this afternoon. I shall take Terry with me on a tramp through some of this surrounding country. I want to locate other contraband guns or cartridges, if I can. Except for necessary duties let the men rest. While we are on this duty most of the work will be done at night. Sleep a part of the afternoon yourself; one of the non-commissioned officers can look after the camp, and call you at need."

His sole sleep lately having been for an hour the night before, Lieutenant Hal needed no urging to seek a cot in the wall-tent set apart for the use of the officers.

"When will you sleep, sir?" Noll ventured to ask.

"When I have time," replied Captain Foster, stifling a yawn and smiling. "This will not be the first time that I have worked for forty hours without sleep."

But the afternoon prowl revealed no more rifles. There was another surprise. At Agua Dulce were fourteen boats belonging to private owners – all the craft at the village water front. Five of the boats were owned by Mexicans. Somewhat disappointed, Captain Foster and Lieutenant Noll returned to camp.

At the evening meal, just before dark, Captain Foster remarked:

"I've posted a corporal and a guard to see that none of the boats leave shore until they've been found to contain no freight that looks like munitions of war. To my surprise none of the Mexicans showed the slightest interest in my doings. It begins to look as though they have no intention of trying to ferry arms over the frontier at present."

"Are there any steam craft at this point, sir?" inquired Lieutenant Hal.

"Nothing of the sort, Mr. Overton."

"Then, if the Mexicans do plan to get any war supplies over the frontier, don't you imagine that they have arranged for a launch or a tug to drop down the river, or come up the stream, from some other point?"

"That's worth thinking of," muttered the captain, looking thoughtful.

"A boat engaged in such secret work would probably also take the risk of running without lights."

"But a steamer would be bound to make noise enough to give us warning when she attempted to come in toward the shore," pursued Captain Foster.

"That, sir, will depend on how far apart our guards are to-night, or on such other night as the Mexicans may make the attempt."

"Now that our troops are here they may make no attempt," hinted Noll.

"They will if they dare," replied Captain Foster. "If there are six hundred rifles in Guarez's barn, and more elsewhere, then there must be a lot of Mexicans on the other side waiting impatiently for the supplies to reach them. Your suggestion, Mr. Overton, about a steamer, is one that must be kept in mind."

After some thought Captain Foster wrote a telegram, entrusting it to a corporal to take over to the village.

Hal was then directed to take sixty men and to dispose of them in suitable spots along the water-front. Fifty men were to be used for this purpose. A corporal and three men would then patrol along the easterly end of the line, Hal and the few remaining men of his command patroling the western end of the line. Either patrol would be quick to respond to any shot from a sentry.

"This is an exceedingly responsible task, Mr. Overton," Captain Foster informed the young officer. "If you fail at some point, then arms enough to equip a brigade of Mexican rebels may cross the river to-night."

"I shall keep every sense on the alert, sir."

Noll was given command of the camp. Captain Foster, now thoroughly fagged, turned in for a few hours' sleep, after leaving orders to be called at eleven o'clock.

"You will find me prowling about your lines from midnight on, Mr. Overton," was the captain's last word before turning in. "It is now nearly dark, so I suggest that you march your men without any unnecessary delay."

Two minutes later Lieutenant Hal was marching his command from camp. He did not take his column through the village. Instead, he marched it to the eastward, then over to the river bank.

Posting his fifty sentries about three hundred feet apart the Army boy thus covered a stretch of water-front some three miles in length, the village's strip of river front being nearly at the middle of this line. Corporal Smith's patrol was at the westerly end of the line. Hal himself headed the patrol at that end. The sentries were instructed to conceal themselves, in order to catch, if possible, any band of rebel smugglers in the act of loading war munitions on a craft.

"Nothing will come of it to-night," muttered Hal to himself, after he had placed his men. "The Mexicans here know that there are troops on the spot. If they were going to ship guns to-night they'd be sure to do it at some point ten or twenty miles from here. This is a job for a whole brigade of infantry. A regiment of cavalry could do more than three regiments of infantry on this work."

But Hal knew that the only two troops of cavalry so far ordered to frontier patrol were two troops at least a hundred miles to the westward. As yet Uncle Sam's soldiers were posted only at particular points known to harbor resolute Mexican rebels.

"The fish can get through the net without the least trouble," thought the young officer.

It was still, dark and quiet out here on the river front. There were no lights, and seemingly none astir except the soldiers.

"Corporal, you stay with the patrol. I'm going to do a little exploring on my own account," said Lieutenant Hal, after another hour had passed.

"Very good, sir," replied Corporal Dent.

Hal had no very definite objective when he started off eastward by himself. He had left his sword behind in camp, but his revolver rested in its holster on his right hip.

The more Lieutenant Hal thought about it the less he was inclined to feel that there was any likelihood that Mexicans would attempt to-night to cross the river anywhere in the neighborhood of United States troops.

"The leaders among these fellows all know that they're being watched," thought Hal, "and they won't take chances when success means so much to them. Now that the troops have come Guarez and his associates will take time to think this matter over. None the less I shall have to be as vigilant as though I knew that they meant business to-night. It would be a fearful black eye on my record as an officer, right at the start, if I allowed the Guarez crowd to get anything real over the river to-night."

As he strolled along the water front the young lieutenant passed one of his sentries every few hundred feet. Part of the Army boy's purpose in going along by himself was to make sure that each and all of his men were alert. Their vigil would last until daylight.

In course of time the young officer passed the public pier, standing empty and deserted at the foot of the street leading from the village down to the water front. There were several row-boats tied up here at one side. During the day-time they had been under other guard, but now they lay unwatched – to the casual eye. However, within short distances of the pier on either side the young lieutenant knew that he had sentries hidden.

Neither sentry communicated with Lieutenant Overton as he passed.

"They're wise men not to hail me here," thought the young lieutenant. "They can see who I am, and, if there are any Mexicans prowling about here in the shadows, the sentries will not betray themselves."

Hal went on past the pier a little distance.

"The whole village seems asleep," he muttered, looking toward the town. "Yet, if we have blocked Guarez's little game I'll wager it will be late before he retires to-night. He'll be too mad to sleep."

Hal had halted in the shadow of two trees, growing close together. As he stood there, glancing about him, he was certain that he saw some one moving behind a growth of bushes a little way up the road.

"Halt! Who's there?" called the young Army officer, in a low voice, yet one that would carry.

There came no answer, but Hal was positive that he had seen some one moving.

"Answer, there!" he called sharply, running forward, "or stand where you are. I'm going to look you over."

Being a good sprinter young Overton was soon on the spot where he was sure that he had seen some one. But now there was no one in sight. There were other clumps of bushes near, and the prowler might easily have hidden.

"If you won't come out," called Lieutenant Hal, as he began to move quickly from clump to clump, "I'll rout you out!"

Then, of a sudden, just as Lieutenant Hal turned away from a growth of bushes, he heard a stealthy step at his rear. Like a flash he turned. As he did so, a rope was cast over his head, pinioning his arms to his sides. Before he could move or resist he felt himself jerked to the ground with considerable violence.

In another instant Hal would have been on his feet, contriving to get the noose loose or shifted in some way, and he would have been full of fight.

But the stealthy one, a man of good size and swarthy of feature, hurled himself upon the body of the trapped young Army officer. A low whistle followed, and Hal heard others moving.

Then he felt the prick of steel at his throat as the Mexican whispered:

"Quiet! Our cause is worth more than your life!"

CHAPTER XIII
ENOUGH TO MAKE A MEXICAN LAUGH

THOUGH Hal's captor spoke English, he was unquestionably Mexican. His eyes gleamed with an unholy fire. Young Overton had no doubt that he recognized the type – a man who believed that he was serving the holy cause of liberty in his own country, and who would think a Gringo life of little value if it interfered with the cause of the rebels across the river.

The sharp point of that knife pressed so insistently against Hal's neck that the Army boy realized he could not move before the weapon would be driven into his throat.

"This is where it's wiser to keep still," muttered the young lieutenant to himself. "My sentries will hear, anyway. They'll soon have this maniac subdued."

Instead of the sentries four other Mexicans came hurrying up. Nor did they seem afraid to come running down the open road. And one of these brown-skinned men was Pedro Guarez himself.

"Aha! You have the dashing young Gringo!" laughed Pedro harshly. "Bueno!" (Good.)

"Take him from me," begged the one who held the knife. "Bind him. We want no more trouble to-night."

Pedro and the three other new-comers threw themselves upon the young Army officer, rolling him over on his face and wrenching his arms behind him for tying.

Yet as he was flopped over Hal had the use of his mouth for an instant. Regardless of what the consequences might be to him he yelled lustily:

"Sentry! Lieutenant Overton —trouble!"

Instead of being angry Pedro Guarez laughed harshly.

"Gringo, if you are not more careful we shall have to gag you!"

In record time the young lieutenant's arms were bound at elbow and wrist. Hal put up a sturdy fight. Had he been on his feet, and confronting only the fists of his assailants, he might have won. But on the ground, face downward, with his assailants piling over him, he had little chance to make trouble.

"He's all right, now," chuckled Guarez. "If he tries to make any more noise throw him to the ground and gag him. If he shows fight give him the steel."

Two of the Mexicans seized Lieutenant Hal by the arm on either side, while Guarez led the way into a stretch of forest.

They were soon at the end of their walk. Lieutenant Overton gave a gasp of dismay as his gaze fell upon the recumbent forms of six of his men, every one of them bound. Twenty feet beyond them lay a heap of six rifles and as many ammunition belts. Hal's eyes roved from face to face, his men grinning back sheepishly at him.

"All of our sentries for a thousand feet on either side of the pier!" gasped the young lieutenant, in deep humiliation.

Pedro Guarez, laughing harshly, said to Hal:

"Bah! You Gringos are no men to compete with the sons of Mexico! You are like children to us, who roam always by night, in preference to the light of day. And there is much Indian blood in Mexican veins. Now, if you are wise, no harm will come to you. But if you make a noise or show fight —so!"

Guarez made a significant gesture across his throat.

"How did you men come to be taken, Simms?" asked Hal, of the nearest soldier, after his captors had forced him to lie on the ground with his men.

"A Greaser crept up behind me, sir, and threw a noose that got tangled around my windpipe," replied Private Simms. "He did it so swiftly and quietly, too, that not even Bolton on the next post heard him."

"I heard nothing, sir," confirmed Private Bolton, "until I heard a roaring in my own ears just after I got the noose trick, and then a lot of other Greasers piled on me."

Again Guarez laughed, though he added with a snarl:

"You will do well to stop the use of that word, Greaser, fellow. Otherwise you will feel the weight of a boot in your face. So!"

Guarez swung his foot back as though intending to plant a vicious kick in Bolton's face.

"Have done with cowardice, Guarez!" ordered Lieutenant Hal sternly.

"Oh!" sneered the Mexican. "Me? I do as I please, and it would give me joy to kick your head off."

"I'd bide my time, and make you swallow your own foot in time, if you did," retorted Hal undauntedly.

"Be not too bold, my very young friend," warned Guarez, "or I shall deal with you at my leisure by taking you across into Mexico with me to-night."

"Try it!" dared Hal contemptuously.

For answer Guarez struck his boot lightly against Overton's lips. It was not a hard blow, nor did it cause any pain, but the meanness of the action brought the hot blood to Lieutenant Hal's face.

"I'll wait my own time to make you apologize humbly for that, you contemptible, cowardly Greaser!" broke impetuously from the Army boy's insulted lips.

An instant after the words were out Lieutenant Hal regretted the use of the word Greaser. That word, as a term of contempt for people of another country should not have been uttered by an officer of the Army.

"Bah!" retorted Guarez. "Some other time for you, my young jaguar."

As he went away Guarez signed to his companions, who followed him. There were now left as guards over the military prisoners two Mexicans. These were each armed with a forty-five Colt's revolver, and both appeared to be wholly alert.

"If any one among you calls for help," remarked one of the guards, "my orders are to reward you with steel."

Throwing back his coat the fellow displayed the hilt of a poniard.

"What's the use of shouting?" demanded Hal indifferently, "when my other guards are beyond reach of my voice?"

The Mexican laughed quietly, adding something in Spanish in an undertone to his companion.

"I hope you don't blame us, sir?" asked Private Simms.

"How can I censure any of you?" asked Hal bitterly, "when I was caught myself by the same easy trick?"

"Don't tell me, after this," muttered Private Simms, "that a Mexican is stupid and has no brains."

Conversation, though allowed in low tones by the two Mexican guards, soon died out among the soldiers, every one of whom felt secretly disgusted and ashamed of himself.

Twenty minutes, or more, passed before Hal, lying with one ear to the ground, heard the somewhat distant sound of moving horses. Soon after the roll of wheels came to him. Then, around a corner of the road, not far away, wagons turned and made toward the shore of the Rio Grande.

"Moving day with you fellows, is it?" demanded Hal of the guard who spoke English.

The fellow chuckled quietly.

"You've outwitted us, haven't you?" demanded the young lieutenant dryly. "You're moving munitions of war toward the river. You expect to ship them soon – but perhaps you won't succeed."

"You may prevent, if you can," laughed the Mexican.

"We shall see what will happen," retorted the Army boy.

"Nothing – so far as you American soldiers are concerned," came the triumphant answer.

"You shall see," vaunted Hal, though inwardly he groaned. He had been outwitted, in his first command as an officer, and he could feel the hot shame of the whole thing.

"But I don't see how you fellows can get anything out of Guarez's barn, unless you have been able to noose the whole of the sergeant's guard posted there."

Another laugh, and one of undisguised, unmistakable merriment, escaped the Mexican.

"Eh?" wondered Hal, for that laugh set him to thinking. Yet he did not pretend to himself that he could fathom what lay behind that laugh.

"It is our night to laugh," explained the guard.

"Your merriment is ill-timed, then," growled young Overton. "Wait until you have all your war stuff on Mexican soil before you laugh again!"

"My time to laugh is every time that I look at you seven brave soldados, tied up like so many chickens for the butcher," grinned the guard. "In the meantime, our boat must now be at the pier, and soon she will be laden. Then – ah, well, there will be rejoicing on the other side of the Rio Grande!"

"I'll wager there'll be rejoicing," thought Lieutenant Hal. "And, as for me, I'm an officer with a blasted reputation. I've failed with my first chance to do my duty!"

In sheer disgust with himself, though he was really little if any at fault, Lieutenant Hal Overton, U. S. Army, rolled further over that he might cool his hot face against the cool earth.

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."