Uncle Sam's Boys as Lieutenants: or, Serving Old Glory as Line Officers

Some of the officers noted that Captain Foster frequently glanced down the river through the darkness, but none asked him his reasons.

Finally, however, Sergeant Havens and ten men from F company marched on to the pier, followed by Corporal Shimple of H company and four men. In the wake of the two detachments walked Lieutenant Noll, who was soon shaking hands heartily with three of his brother officers of the United Services.

"May I ask what you see coming, gentlemen?" inquired Captain Foster, suddenly, pointing down the river.

"It looks like some pirate craft, sir," replied Hal, after peering hard through the darkness. "At least, that seems like a fair guess, for she's moving along without lights."

"She's engaged in United States service of a somewhat stealthy nature," replied Captain Foster. "That's why the craft shows no lights. Mr. Overton, how do you like the idea that you're to command a gasoline boat yourself to-night, and one that is reputed to be exceedingly fast?"

Hal Overton felt a sudden glow of exultation as the situation dawned on his mind.

"I wired, last night, for a fast gasoline boat to be sent here to aid us," continued Captain Foster. "This coming craft is the answer to my prayer, and the nearest collector of customs informs me that she's the swiftest thing he could charter for the government in these waters."

"Then, sir, if the Mexicans try to put their motor boat across the river to-night there'll be some real doings!" promised Lieutenant Overton.

"Real doings," indeed! The border excitement was about to break loose in deadly earnest, but that was more than any of them knew at that time.

CHAPTER XVIII
AN ACT OF PIRACY

MOVING slowly, with the graceful ease of a monster swan, the motor boat, a craft under sixty feet in length, moved into the pier to shoreward of the tug.

"Motor boat 'Restless'?" hailed Captain Foster.

"Yes, sir," came quietly from the youthful-looking sailor at the wheel. Just then he quitted his post.

"Captain Halstead?"

"Yes, sir; here, at your orders."

Skipper Tom Halstead made the best military salute that he knew how, while the handy boy of all things aboard the boat, Hank Butts, made the bow-hawser fast and hurried along the pier to secure the stern hawser.

"A party of five United States officers coming aboard, Captain Halstead," continued Captain Foster.

"All right, sir; we'll be mighty glad to have you aboard," Skipper Tom answered quietly, but with a manliness and heartiness that made all of the officers instantly take a liking to him.

Captain Foster introduced himself, and then his brother officers. Many of our readers will require no new introduction to Captain Tom Halstead, Engineer Joe Dawson and the irrepressible trouble-seeker, Hank Butts. These fortunate readers have already met the young men in the volumes of the "Motor Boat Club Series," and know all about them and how Tom and Joe had secured their joint ownership in that splendid sea-going craft, the "Restless."

"Halstead, can you take five officers and twenty enlisted men aboard for the night?"

"Yes, sir," smiled the young skipper, revealing his white, even teeth. "They won't weigh over two tons and a half, altogether, sir."

"Can you take that many with comfort?" laughed Captain Foster.

"Now, I won't guarantee the comfort, sir, but there'll be room enough aboard so that no one needs to be jostled over the rail. Eighteen men can sit in the cabin at the same time. That leaves only seven, besides our own crew who will need to be on deck."

"Oh, you're going to have plenty of room here," decided Captain Foster, after a brief look over the trim little motor craft.

"I'm glad of that," sighed Dave Darrin, "for, as an interloper, I'd have to go ashore the first one if the quarters were crowded."

"Mr. Overton, direct Sergeant Havens and his men to come aboard. Mr. Prescott, you'll look out for your squad, of course."

"Certainly, sir."

"Mr. Overton, as soon as you have your men aboard, give the skipper his word to start. You will cruise without lights, unless need for them arises. While cruising, do not go above nine miles an hour. Reserve greater speed for pursuit. First, you will cruise eight miles up the river, then eight miles below this point, and so on through the night until a half-hour before daylight. As much as you can, avoid showing your craft to any prowlers by the shores. Keep things dark aboard the boat, and voices low."

By this time the enlisted men had come aboard, many of them going below to the cabin.

"You may start, now," continued Captain Poster, jumping to the pier. "Catch anything you can that has arms aboard for the other frontier. Good-bye and good luck!"

Hardly had the motor boat gotten under way when the tug, with Corporal Shimple and four men aboard, also left her berth. The tug went only a short distance out into the stream, then cast anchor for the night. The tug was to be held in reserve, and at the same time her mate and crew were thus prevented from communicating any news about the motor boat to possible Mexican lurkers on shore.

The five young officers of the two services had seated themselves on top of the deck-house at the rear of the bridge-deck. Hank Butts sat midway down on the deck-house, yawning as though he would like to turn in. After he had got his engine working smoothly Engineer Joe Dawson came up from the engine room forward, taking his stand beside Skipper Tom Halstead.

For five minutes Joe was silent, as the boat kept on up the Rio Grande. He half-turned, once in a while, to cast a covertly-admiring glance at the young officers seated at their rear. At last Joe whispered exultantly in his chum's ear:

"Tom, that's a real fighting bunch."

"You've hit the truth at first trial," returned Skipper Tom, in an undertone, as he kept his glance ahead over the river.

"I'm not much given to exaggeration, am I, Tom?"

"I never knew that you had an acquaintance with exaggeration," Halstead answered.

"Then perhaps you'll believe me, Tom, when I tell you that I'd follow those officers over Niagara or into Vesuvius, if they happened to be bound either way."

"I know you would, Joe," Tom answered, without smiling, for he knew his chum through and through.

"Tom, those young officers would assay up a big lot of fight to the ton!"

Having thus relieved himself of that strong conviction Joe Dawson seated himself on the roof of the forward house and did not speak again for twenty minutes.

By the time that the eight miles upstream had been covered, and Skipper Tom Halstead had headed the boat down again for its straight sixteen-mile run, he called down to his chum:

"Joe, will you come up and hold the wheel for me for two or three minutes?"

"Coming," Dawson sang cheerily.

But Dave Darrin stepped forward with:

"Skipper, can't I hold the wheel for you?"

"Have you ever handled a boat before, sir?" Tom queried, giving this young man, who was in civilian dress, a keen though good-humored look.

"At least twice," Darrin modestly assured him.

"How big a boat?"

"Up to sixteen thousand tons," Darrin replied, without cracking a smile.

"A wise man is always cautious, Halstead," sang out Lieutenant Prescott gleefully, "but the man you're talking to is Ensign Darrin of the United States Navy."

"Take the wheel, Mr. Darrin," replied the youthful skipper, with a grin, while Joe, halfway up the engine-room steps, took in the scene. "I heard Mr. Darrin introduced merely as 'mister,'" Halstead explained to the other officers. "I thought he was either an Army man, or some civilian friend who had come along."

Skipper Tom Halstead then went below to his stateroom, while observant Joe Dawson noted that Darrin handled the wheel with skill.

"Shall I give you a little more speed, Mr. Darrin?" called Joe softly.

"I'm only a guest," Dave replied. "Mr. Overton is in command here."

"Thank you, Engineer, but, as we're only cruising I believe our best move will be to stick to Captain Foster's nine-mile order," Hal replied, nodding to Joe.

So the cruise continued. Halstead was soon on deck again, but the young skipper found Darrin so enjoying his trick at the wheel that Skipper Tom merely stood near to take the trick again whenever the young ensign showed signs of being tired of his job.

It was late in the night, and the "Restless" was making her third trip up the river before anything happened. For some time the young Army and Navy officers had felt more or less bored with the monotony of these hours of tiresome waiting. Tom Halstead had stretched himself out on the deck-house for rest, though not to nap, and Hank Butts was at the wheel, while Joe dozed lightly on a seat in the engine-room. All of the enlisted men had crowded below, and were dozing.

"Look sharp, there!" cried Lieutenant Hal, suddenly, as he sprang to Hank's side. "There's a craft moving out from the American shore, about a mile upstream, isn't there!"

"Something moving, for sure," replied Hank, peering through the darkness.

"A motor boat?"

"It must be."

"Trail her. Get in closer."

Skipper Tom Halstead now came forward, though he did not take the wheel from Hank.

"The search-light is ready, whenever you want it, Lieutenant," remarked the youthful motor boat skipper.

"The use of the light might save the fellows on the other craft some guessing," smiled Lieutenant Hal. "I want to keep 'em guessing as long as possible."

"I'll kick on more speed," proposed Hank, reaching for the deck controls.

"Wait until you get orders," interposed Skipper Tom Halstead. "This is government business, Hank, and we're not government officers, so we'll act only under orders."

It was evident that those aboard the craft upstream had made out the pursuing motor boat. The unknown craft was now heading straight across the stream, and kicking on some speed.

"How fast is the stranger going?" asked Lieutenant Overton.

"Twenty miles an hour, as nearly as I can guess," replied Skipper Tom.

"How fast can you go?"

"Twenty-six to twenty-eight miles."

"Crowd it about all on, then. I don't want to have that other craft get too close to Mexico before we push up alongside."

"All speed, Joe, and do it quick!" Skipper Tom called down into the engine-room. Almost at once the "Restless" earned her name by fairly leaping forward through the water.

Then the chase began in earnest.

"Noll, pass the word below for a sergeant and six privates," directed Lieutenant Hal, in a low tone.

The enlisted men came up, taking their places on deck.

"Does the lieutenant want us to load our pieces?" called the sergeant quietly.

"Not yet," was Hal's reply, passed back by Noll.

Then, on board the pursuing craft, all settled down to absolute quietness, save for the running of the machinery. The distance between the two boats was rapidly closing up, for it was plain that the other boat had started at full speed as soon as she sighted the pursuer.

Glare! A strong, broad beam of light, from the stranger's search-lamp, shone across the water, then picked up the "Restless" when the two boats were less than a quarter of a mile apart. The uniforms of Uncle Sam's blinking men must have stood out strongly before the vision of those on the stranger.

"You have a megaphone?" asked Lieutenant Hal.

"Yes," replied Skipper Tom, passing the implement.

"Run up just as close as you can safely for a hail."

Lieutenant Hal waited until much more of the distance had been covered. Then he raised the megaphone to his lips, shouting:

"Lay to, stranger! We are United States officers and must come aboard!"

"You can't!" bellowed a hoarse, defiant voice.

"We must and will! Lay to!"

"Take the consequences, then!" came the same hoarse bellow.

Bang! It came altogether, in one sharp, crashing volley, from the stranger's decks, and a tempest of bullets hit the "Restless."

"The pirates!" uttered Lieutenant Hal, at a white heat of indignation.

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!"