Two Boys of the Battleship: or, For the Honor of Uncle Sam

CHAPTER XXI – UNEXPECTED NEWS

Great searchlights from the battleship illuminated a scene that was one of great activity. Boats were pulling away from the side of the Georgetown, boats filled with eager, excited men and youths, including our two friends. Every one was armed, and each had plenty of cartridges in reserve. There were also light field pieces taken apart for transportation, but which could easily be set up. The men had been drilled for just such an emergency as this.

Several motor launches towed the cutters filled with the blue-jackets. There was no time for rowing, with the growing excitement on shore ever on the increase.

“Say, it sure is a row!” exclaimed Ned, for as they came nearer they could hear shots and shouts and yells.

“It’s a regular riot!” said Frank.

“That’s what it is,” said a petty officer in the boat containing Frank and Ned. “It’s a riot, and that’s what we’re going ashore for – to end it!”

In the path of the illumination from the battleship’s searchlights the boats sped on. Now could be seen a dark mass of men fighting near the shore.

“They’re going to dispute our landing,” observed Tom Dawson.

“Well, they won’t dispute it very long,” said Frank, significantly, as he tapped his rifle. “We’re ready for them.”

Up to the beach, through surf that was not heavy, went the boats. Before they grounded the men and youths leaped out into the water and fairly raced up the shingle. In an instant they formed in line and waited for orders from their officers. There were nearly three hundred of them, for the Georgetown carried over a thousand men, though of course many of them were not available for fighting duty on shore. However, several hundred more could be sent in case the impending conflict should go against the first men who landed.

“Attention, men!” called the commanding officer. “I want you to understand what this is about. Our captain has been appealed to for protection by a number of United States citizens living here. According to the signals flashed to us from shore our citizens are being attacked by a mob of the revolutionists. Just why, we needn’t go into now. But we must give protection to our friends, and we are going to try and drive off the mob.”

“Hurrah!” some one cried.

“Lively now, men!” went on the officer. “Forward! There they are!”

The dark mass of fighters which had been near the shore before the boats landed had gone farther up the strand just as the battleship men arrived. But now they were again rushing down the beach.

There were shouts, yells and cries, mingling with the pop of small arms. Most of the shouting was in a foreign tongue, Portuguese, most likely, so Ned and Frank thought.

“There must be a lot of our citizens here,” said Ned, as he saw that there were two good-sized crowds, one evidently attacking the other. And it was this attack and repulse, this backward and forward movement, as the tide of fighting changed, that had taken the conflicting forces away from the water’s edge, and now, once more, brought them to it again.

“Those who are being attacked aren’t all Americans,” said a petty officer near our heroes. “Our citizens threw their lot in with the inhabitants here who are opposed to the revolutionists, and the latter are attacking the loyal natives as well as our men. Now we’ll – ”

But he had no time to explain further, as sharp orders to advance came. It was not very dark, though it was about midnight, for the moon shone brightly, and now the battleship had brought to bear on the scene all her powerful searchlights.

“Forward and at ’em!” came the command. “Protect the Americans!”

Snarling cries came in answer from the revolutionists. But they did not give way at once, though they must have realized that they were about to be attacked by some of the best-trained fighting men in the world, and some of the bravest – the United States blue-jackets.

The crack of guns, which had ceased for a moment, now began again more spitefully than before. The two parties in the riot were firing at one another, and bullets began to sing over the heads of the battleship boys. Instinctively several ducked. Others laughed.

“You needn’t duck,” some one near Frank called. “When you hear the bullet it’s past you.”

“Forward! Forward!” came the cries.

“Over this way!” a voice shouted in English. “Over this way, battleship boys! They’re beating us back!”

It was a cry for help from those being attacked by the rioters.

Ned and Frank found themselves in a division that was being led off to one side for a flank attack. The hearts of both lads were beating violently. It was the first time they had ever been under fire, and for the first time they were about to fire a shot at a human being. It was a strange feeling, but they felt that right was on their side. And they were going to save the lives of fellow citizens who were being attacked by a foreign mob.

“It’s just like a football rush!” cried Ned in Frank’s ear. He had to shout to be heard above the crack of the rifles.

“Come on! Come on!” yelled back Frank, just as he might have done had he and Ned been carrying the ball down the field.

As yet, though the hum and whine of bullets was almost constant in the air, none of the battleship force had been hit, as far as was known. But suddenly a lad in the ranks behind Frank and Ned gave a convulsive cry and fell to the ground.

“They got me!” he cried. “It’s only in the leg, though,” he added an instant later. “Go on, boys, and give ’em one for me!”

“Three cheers for Wright!” some one called. And they were heartily given, but the advance did not halt.

On rushed the battleship boys toward the mass of rioting revolutionists. They had swung around now, to attack them in the rear and to one side.

“Halt!” came the order from the lieutenant leading the advance. “Ready! Aim! Fire over their heads!”

He wanted, if possible, to quell the riot without taking life. A volley crashed out, and there came a return fire from the revolutionists. Several of the men from the Georgetown fell. Something like a shout of anger ran through the ranks.

“Fire low!” yelled the lieutenant. This time there was a different story. Ned and Frank could not see at whom they were shooting, because they were now in some of the water front streets of the capital and the buildings cast shadows. They could see, however, a dark mass of humanity before them, and at this they and the others fired. A number were seen to fall, and then the tide of battle suddenly turned.

With howls of fear in their foreign tongue the revolutionists turned and fled. They had had enough in one volley from the rifles of the battleship’s force. It was an easily won victory – for the time being.

“Come on! After ’em!” yelled Ned, eager for the fray.

“Halt! Hold on! No pursuit! We merely want to stop the riot, and have no wish to inflict punishment,” said the lieutenant. “We’ll hold the ground here for a time. Now, who are hurt?”

A number had received bullet wounds, it developed, though none was necessarily fatal. Some were incapacitated through wounds in legs or arms, and these were quickly sent to the rear to be transported to the ship for treatment. Sentries were posted, and a little later some of the Americans in whose interests the battleship force had been landed came up. They had guns, and had been fighting against the revolutionists with the friendly citizens. They reported that the revolutionary force had retreated to the hills back of the city.

“Is that where the revolutionists have their headquarters?” asked Frank of one American, who said he owned a large coffee warehouse in front of which the battleship boys were standing.

“Yes, in between those two hills.”

“So that’s why we fired at them,” said Frank in a low voice to Ned. “It was to scare them out.”

“Only it didn’t; or, rather, it brought them into town,” Ned replied.

The American business man, who said his name was Paige Kennedy, stated that he had large interests in Uridio, as had many of his American friends, and that these interests were seriously threatened by the revolutionists.

He opened his coffee warehouse and switched on the lights, inviting the squad of men from the battleship to make the place their headquarters. This the lieutenant who led the force including Frank and Ned was glad to do. The wounded had been sent to the ship. Off in different parts of the city the sound of firing could be heard, the peculiar crack of the rifles carried by the blue-jackets being easily distinguished. It was evident that not all the squads of fighting revolutionists had been as easily dispersed as had the one our friends encountered.

“But what’s it all about – why did they attack the Americans here?” asked Frank of Mr. Kennedy.

“Well, it’s quite a political tangle – the whole business,” he said. “To explain briefly I will say that there are here two parties, each one trying to get the controlling power. We Americans established ourselves under the present ruling party, and they treated us well. In fact we are making lots of money. I guess it’s the money – our money, our factories and warehouses – that the revolutionists are after.

“Of course, we stood up for our rights, naturally, and the citizens’ party, as I call the present ruling one, to distinguish it from the revolutionists, stood by us. We heard talk some time ago that we Americans were to be driven out of this republic, so we appealed to the Washington authorities for help. We are glad to see that it arrived in time.

“There has been fighting before this, but it did not amount to much. This attack planned for to-night, and of which we had word in time to prepare, in some measure, is the beginning of the effort to drive us out.”

“Well, they won’t drive you now,” said the lieutenant. “Arden – Frank,” he said, to distinguish the two brothers, “Arden, find Sergeant Wherry and tell him I want him to take a message for me.”

“Yes, sir,” answered Frank, saluting. Mr. Kennedy looked up suddenly.

“Excuse me,” he said, “but did I hear you call some one Arden?”

“Yes,” the lieutenant replied. “I have two brothers in my squad to-night, Frank and Ned Arden,” and he indicated them. Frank paused a moment.

“Are you, by any chance, related to a Mr. Philip Arden of Ipswhich, Long Island,” went on the coffee man.

“He’s our uncle” exclaimed Ned, impulsively. “Do you know him?”

“Well, I should say I do!” was the unexpected answer. “I have been looking after some of his interests down here – that is, I was until he was cheated out of them. What has become of him? I have been wondering why he didn’t do something to protect his property, and straighten matters out. Where is he?”

“In the federal prison at Atlanta,” replied Frank.

“In prison?”

“Yes. He is charged with inciting some revolution down here, and his property in Ipswhich was confiscated, as well as his fortune and ours down here. Claims for damages were filed against him, and he was unjustly convicted. Friends are now trying to reopen the case.”

“Oh! So that’s how the matter lies!” exclaimed Mr. Kennedy. “Well, I want to tell you boys, right now, that your uncle had no more to do with this revolution down here than I did. But I see the game now. It’s that rascal of a Bernardo and his crowd. Why say, I understand now! Bernardo is one of the revolutionists!” he cried. “And he gave this false information against your uncle to cover his own crimes and those of his helpers. It’s a plot to ruin your uncle! Say, you boys have just come in time!

“If this revolution can be put down, and you can get Bernardo and his rascals into your hands, you may be able to get evidence to clear your uncle and free him. If only you can stop the revolution!”

“Oh, we’ll stop it all right,” said the lieutenant, significantly. “Arden, you needn’t go on that errand. I’ll send some one else. I didn’t know you were so concerned in this matter. You stay and have a talk with Mr. Kennedy for it is possible that he might help you quite a good deal. I’ll relieve you and your brother from further duty to-night, unless there is more fighting.”

“Thank you, sir,” answered both boys, and saluting they departed.

CHAPTER XXII – THE PURSUIT

Frank and Ned were greatly surprised at the unexpected news given them by Mr. Kennedy, the coffee merchant. For a while they did not know what to say, nor what questions to ask first.

“Say, did you ever hear anything like the way this has turned out?” Ned finally demanded. “It’s like a book story.”

“It beats a book story,” Frank observed. “I thought it was a queer coincidence when our battleship was ordered to this republic, where our fortunes and Uncle Phil’s are tied up, but to find here some one who knows him, and the different complications with which he is tied up is certainly wonderful.”

“It certainly is,” agreed Mr. Kennedy. “I never thought you would be among the battleship boys who were coming to our relief. Now I’ll tell you all I know about your uncle’s affairs. I am sorry to hear he is in prison.”

“Well, of course it isn’t as if he were a criminal,” put in Ned.

“No, of course not,” admitted the coffee man.

“And he’s pretty comfortable, or he was the last we heard from him,” went on Frank. “But he does want his liberty so he can prove his innocence and save our money. You know we lost practically everything.”

“Yes, and we were robbed in New York, and if we hadn’t enlisted we might have starved,” added Ned, and he and his brother, in turn, told their story.

Then came Mr. Kennedy’s opportunity. By this time the sailors from the battleship had made themselves comfortable in the warehouse, disposing themselves on piles of empty bags to sleep. Of course, sentries were posted to guard against a surprise in case the revolutionists returned, but this did not seem likely. The sound of firing in other parts of the town grew more distant, and it was evident that the rebels had been driven back to their quarters in the hills.

“And we may have to get you to use your big guns on them again,” said the coffee man.

“Did the shells do much damage – kill many?” asked Frank.

“He fired one gun,” said Ned, proudly.

“Did you, indeed? Well, no, not many were killed; in fact, none, though several were wounded by flying debris. We asked your captain to shell the two hills to blow them apart, and make it less easy for the revolutionists to hide up there. We hope to attack the position soon, and we wanted it made as easy as possible to take.

“But now I’ll tell you something of your uncle’s affairs, and we’ll try and plan a way to help him. It all depends on that rascal Bernardo, one of the rebel leaders. He’s a bad one!”

Then the coffee man went into details with which it is unnecessary to burden the readers, as most of what he told Frank and Ned was of interest only to them and their uncle.

In brief the facts were these. After the death of the boys’ father, as has been related before, Mr. Arden took his money and the boys’ fortunes, of which he had charge, and invested in various industries in the South American republic. Some of the investments were in the natural resources of the country, and others were in stock companies organized to develop different businesses, some of which were owned by American, and some by other foreign residents of Pectelo.

It was through some of these business matters that the boys’ uncle had met Mr. Kennedy. The two had trade interests in common, and often helped each other. Ned and Frank, going to college, and spending their summers on Great South Bay, knew nothing of all this.

Finally the success of Mr. Arden in the South American republic excited the jealousy of some of the native residents there, especially the man Rafello Bernardo, a Portuguese trader. He had had some business dealings with Mr. Arden, but the latter caught him in some underhand transactions and refused to have anything more to do with him. This angered Bernardo, and he sought means of revenging himself.

He found it in the pending revolution. Revolutions often occur in Central and South American republics of the lesser size, and in Uridio they were nothing new. But to have any sort of revolution it is necessary to have arms, and as the revolutionists under Bernardo had none, they had to purchase them.

The government forces, or at least the government then in power, the one under which Mr. Arden, Mr. Kennedy and the others held their concessions and privileges, felt that if they could keep arms away from the revolutionists they could easily subdue them, and to this they bent all their efforts.

But arms were smuggled in, and not until it was too late did Mr. Arden learn that some of his own agents and employees had used his factories, his warehouses and his very transportation facilities to bring in the weapons. And when this was found out Bernardo falsely said that Mr. Arden had helped to finance the revolution, that he had arranged for the shipment of arms, and that Mt. Arden hoped to have a large part in the new government that would be set up.

Mr. Arden had no means of disproving this, and action was taken against him by those who had been injured, complaint being made to the federal authorities, who had no option but to act and cause the arrest of the boys’ uncle. The rest of the story you know.

“And so things have been going on from bad to worse,” said Mr. Kennedy. “I wondered what had become of your uncle. I knew his affairs here were in bad shape, but I kept expecting him to come down and straighten them out. I never dreamed he was arrested. I was in Europe on business for awhile, and when I returned I had so much on my hands, protecting my property from the effects of the revolution, that I had no chance to make the proper inquiries.

“The revolution dragged until recently, when it assumed such an aspect that we Americans determined to ask the protection of Uncle Sam. And I assure you I never saw a prettier sight than when your magnificent battleship dropped anchor in our bay.”

“She is a great ship!” cried Ned, with sparkling eyes.

“But how are we going to get hold of this Bernardo, and prove the innocence of Uncle Phil?” asked Frank.

“I don’t really know,” replied Mr. Kennedy. “We shall have to wait and see what happens. The revolution isn’t over yet, by a long shot. Those rascals have drawn off, but they’ll come back. They really outnumber us – that is we Americans, our employees and the friendly inhabitants,” he went on, “though you blue-jackets will turn the scale in our favor. And once the revolution is broken, and Bernardo and his rascals driven out of the country, I think we’ll have peace. We’ll see what happens when morning comes.”

It may be imagined that Frank and Ned had so much to talk about that they did not sleep well. But finally they dozed off. Morning brought no resumption of the fighting. Orders came that the detachments already on shore, thus including Frank and Ned, were to remain in the city, being stationed in different quarters. More blue-jackets came from the battleship, and more field artillery was landed.

Camp kitchens were set up, and the detachment which included our two heroes remained quartered in the coffee warehouse, which made fine barracks.

That day passed quietly, though spies reported that the revolutionists were gathering in force in the hills and seemed to be getting ready for another attack.

It came two days later. But the battleship forces, the American residents, and the loyal citizens were ready for them, and after some sharp fighting, in which a number were killed and wounded, including some of the comrades of Ned and Frank, the tide of battle went against the revolutionists.

Their defeat was accompanied by a panic, and most of them surrendered.

It fell to the lot of Ned, Frank and their detachment to be in the van of the fighting. Frank did not receive a scratch, but Ned received a flesh wound in the arm. He refused to go to the rear to have it treated, but tied on a first aid bandage, and went on fighting. Mr. Kennedy joined the squad and fought side by side with Frank and Ned. And it was due to this that they were able, toward the end, to catch sight of the man responsible for their uncle’s troubles.

“There’s Bernardo now, and his bodyguard – rascals all!” exclaimed the coffee man as they were pursuing a group of the fleeing revolutionists.

“Where?” demanded Frank.

“There – that tall, dark man!”

“Come on, Ned!” yelled the older brother.

The fighting was practically over. That in which our two heroes had taken part had been going on near the water front. The two brothers rushed forward, followed by Mr. Kennedy.

“Those lads have grit!” he exclaimed.

Bernardo, seeing that he was completely beaten, called to his men to follow him. He turned and shook his fist at his pursuers, but he had no more shots left in either his rifle or revolver, nor did any of his men.

“We’ll get him!” panted Frank. “We’ll get him and make him prove Uncle Phil’s innocence!”

The chase grew hotter. It was along the water front, and out among the small piers.