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

CHAPTER XXIII – OVERBOARD

“Come on now, we have them!” cried Frank.

“Surrender there! Give up! Stop!” shouted Ned. “Halt, Senor Bernardo!”

But the Portuguese revolutionist and his rebel rascals kept on. Frank brought his rifle to his shoulder and exclaimed:

“Halt, or I’ll fire!”

Whether he actually would or not, he never stopped to consider. Shooting at a man in the open that way, when the heat of battle has passed, is a hard matter. Frank could not decide what to do. But the aimed gun had no effect, and a second later, with shouts of exultation, Bernardo and his men leaped from a small pier into a power boat, which was cast off and set in motion at once.

“They’ve beaten us!” gasped Ned. “They’ve gotten away!”

“Oh for a boat!” cried Frank. “If we had one – even our Ellen– we might catch them!”

“But we haven’t,” said Ned, sadly, as he saw the powerful craft, containing the escaping revolutionists, speeding out into the bay. The cutters and motor boats of the warship were some distance away, some of them having been taken back to the Georgetown.

One of the men who was among the last to leap into the boat after Bernardo, carried a large tin box. He seemed to be very careful of it.

“Probably it contains what cash they have left,” said Frank.

“Yes, and perhaps papers that might serve to free Uncle Phil,” added his brother. “Oh, Frank, we simply must get those fellows!”

“What’s the trouble?” asked Mr. Kennedy, who came running up at that moment. He was rather stout, and had been winded by the pursuit. “Where are Bernardo and his rascals?” he asked.

“There they go,” replied Frank, pointing to the motor boat, now well away from shore.

“And one of them has a tin box full of money with him,” added Ned.

“Not much money left among the revolutionists,” was the comment of the coffee man. “Besides, if there is, you can be sure Bernardo has it safely put away somewhere. He wouldn’t take any chances carrying it with him in that fashion.”

“But there was something of value in the box,” Frank insisted.

“Papers and documents, most likely,” said Mr. Kennedy. “Those fellows don’t want to leave behind anything incriminating. They aren’t any fonder of going to prison than the next man.”

“If that tin box contains papers some of them might prove our uncle’s innocence,” ventured Frank.

“By Jove! So they might!” cried the coffee merchant. “I never thought of that. Bernardo is just the sort of rascal, too, to do away with the proof.”

“If we only had a boat!” and Ned groaned in disappointment as he uttered the words.

At that moment there came out from around one of the piers a small motor boat.

“Look!” cried Frank. “It isn’t very big, but it will hold us. And maybe we can catch them. Hi, you!” he called to the man in the boat, “sell us your craft – lend it to us. We’ll pay you well!”

The man only shrugged his shoulders and turned away.

“Name your own price!” yelled Ned.

“He doesn’t understand you,” said Kennedy. “He’s Portuguese. I know him. He’s a fruit dealer. I’ll talk to him.”

Rapidly the coffee merchant explained the situation. There was a quick exchange of rapid-fire talk, and the boatman brought his craft to shore.

“Get in!” cried Mr. Kennedy. “We’ll give those rascals a race, but I’m afraid we haven’t much chance. They have a good start, and their boat is faster than ours, but we’ll do the best we can.”

Eagerly Frank and Ned, not forgetting their rifles, jumped into the boat. A moment later they were off. The motor boat was of recent pattern, and contained a good engine. But the Portuguese who owned it did not know how to get the most speed out of the machine. He was rather surprised when Frank made some adjustments, changing the timer, and regulating the air intake valve of the carburetor.

At once the craft increased her speed.

“Say, you boys know something about boats, don’t you?” exclaimed the coffee man, while the Portuguese looked in wonder at our two heroes.

“Oh, we know a little,” admitted Ned, modestly.

“I wish I knew enough to make this into a hydroplane,” said Frank, as he peered eagerly toward the boat they were pursuing. “It’s about the only way we’ll be able to catch those rascals I’m afraid.”

“We’re pulling up on them a little,” declared Ned.

“Not enough, though,” his brother retorted, rather gloomily.

They were well out in the bay, which was unusually calm. Back in the city the last remnants of the revolutionary army – if such it could be called – were fleeing before the combined forces of American business men, their employees, the loyal citizens, and, finally, the blue-jackets from the Georgetown.

“I wonder what the lieutenant will say to us, running off from the squad this way?” remarked Ned, as he filled the almost empty oil cups.

“Why, it’s all right – we’re in pursuit of the enemy,” replied Frank. “Just because our private interests happen to be served also, doesn’t do any harm.”

“I think you’re right,” agreed Mr. Kennedy. “I will explain matters if you get into any trouble. But, boys, I really think we are gaining on them!”

Ned and Frank stood up, and looked searchingly ahead. They were nearer to the boat containing Bernardo and his cronies. They could see them more plainly. There appeared to be some dispute going on about the tin box, which was wound around with many turns of rope.

“I wish they’d have such a difference of opinion that they’d fight among themselves,” remarked Ned. “Then some of them might come over on our side, and we’d have the evidence we need.”

“No such luck,” sighed Frank. “We might as well wish they’d go near enough the battleship, so we could signal to have them fired on.

“Not sunk, though,” he added quickly, “for that would lose the box for us altogether. I’d just like to have one of our quick-firers disable them. But we’re going away from the Georgetown, instead of toward it.”

This was only too evident.

Of course Ned and Frank might have fired on the escaping men in the boat ahead of them, as they were within rifle shot, but neither of the boys dreamed of shooting at the rascals. It was too cold-blooded.

The boat of the fruit dealer was making good time. It was smaller and lighter than the larger craft containing Bernardo and the others, and was not so heavily laden.

“Ned, I believe we’re going to catch them!” Frank cried, a little later. “I can see them ever so much more plainly.”

“So can I,” said Mr. Kennedy. “Now, boys, you had better let me do the talking, if we really overhaul them and force them to stop. I can speak their language and I know what to say to them to bring them to terms I think. And you want to look out. Bernardo is an ugly customer, and he is probably very bitter over the defeat of his forces and the collapse of the revolution. He’ll be especially vindictive against you sailors, for if it had not been for Uncle Sam’s men the revolutionists would undoubtedly have won.”

“Well, we have our rifles and automatics,” replied Frank, as he looked to see that his gun was loaded, and the pistol in readiness. “If they try any monkey business – ”

“Look! Look!” suddenly interrupted Ned. “They’re having another dispute! And it’s about the box!”

Several of the rascals were now standing up in the boat. One of them had the box in his arms, and Bernardo was trying to take it from him. High words could be heard.

“We’re going to close in on them, and they know it,” exulted Frank. “Maybe some of them want to offer us the box to stop the pursuit.”

“I wouldn’t agree to that,” said Mr. Kennedy. “You might need more evidence than is in the box – personal testimony. Don’t let them get away if you possibly can stop them.”

“I really believe we are going to get them,” cried Ned.

It seemed very probable, and the revolutionists evidently thought the same thing. The dispute over the box was renewed.

“I wonder what really is in it,” ventured Ned.

No one could tell him.

Suddenly one of the men stood up, dealt the revolutionist who held the box a blow that sent him overboard, and as he fell, the man dealing the blow caught the box in his own hands. Then he yelled out something in his own tongue.

“What is he saying?” asked Ned, eagerly.

“Quiet, just a moment,” cautioned Mr. Kennedy, who was listening intently.

The man screamed something at those in the pursuing boat, and shook one fist at them. Then, with a sudden motion, he tossed the box into the water. It sank instantly, and groans of disappointment came from Ned and Frank. The evidence that possibly would clear their uncle, and restore their fortunes, seemed lost forever.

“What did he say?” asked Frank.

“He said that all the documents referring to the revolution would rest on the bottom of the bay,” translated Mr. Kennedy. “He defied us, saying that though the revolution was checked it was not over, and that no punishment could be given Bernardo and his friends, because the necessary papers would never fall into our hands.”

“Did he say anything about Uncle Phil?” asked Ned.

“I don’t believe he knows him, though Bernardo does, and he may suspect you are his nephews,” answered the coffee merchant.

“Come on!” yelled Frank. “They may have destroyed the documentary evidence, but we’ll get them and make them testify in person! We’ll be up to them in another minute. Get your gun ready, Ned!”

But alas for their hopes! Their motor suddenly “went dead.” They lost headway, and the other boat drew swiftly away, while the revolutionist who had been knocked overboard was seen swimming toward the stalled craft.

CHAPTER XXIV – THE MISSING BOX

“What’s the matter with the engine?” cried Ned.

“We must get it started again!” exclaimed his brother, as he sprang to the motor. But revolve the fly-wheel as he did the craft remained still, save for the motion imparted to it by wind and wave, which was not much, as it was a still, calm day.

Meanwhile the other boat was getting farther and farther away, and it was soon seen that, even if the stalled motor could be started without delay, there would be little chance of catching the rascals.

“Something is wrong, somewhere,” declared Ned.

“Never mind, I guess it’s all up, boys,” said the coffee man. “They’ve gotten away, and the evidence, if it was in the tin box, is at the bottom of the sea. It couldn’t be helped.”

“Maybe not,” agreed Frank, with a sigh, in which his brother joined. “But I would like to find out what made the motor stop so suddenly, and just when we were about to overhaul them, too.”

He continued to work over the machinery, adjusting and readjusting the carburetor and the spark-timer, but without result. The Portuguese owner looked on interestedly and finally said something in his own language, which sounded much like Spanish.

“What is he saying?” asked Ned of Mr. Kennedy.

“He says perhaps there is no gasoline. He did not have much when we started.”

“Great guns!” exploded Frank. “Why didn’t we think of that before? We would have had time to stop and get a supply, and maybe, after that, might have caught the rascals.”

An examination of the forward tank showed that the surmise of the boat’s owner was correct. The gasoline container was dry, and that was what had caused the engine to stop.

“Well, what are we going to do?” asked Ned, looking around on the bay. “Have we got to stay out here? We may be classed as deserters, Frank.”

“Oh, I think a boat that we can hail may pass us soon,” suggested Mr. Kennedy. “They’ll tow us in.”

There was nothing they could do save wait.

They hoisted their handkerchiefs on a boat hook as a signal of distress and finally it was seen. A boat came and towed them back to the city.

Before this, however, the man who had been knocked overboard from the other boat came swimming up to the craft containing our friends. He said something in Portuguese which Mr. Kennedy translated as being a surrender. He had to come to those he had been fighting, as his friends had gone off and left him.

He was hauled on board, and told that he would be made a prisoner and turned over to the proper authorities.

“He wasn’t one of the leaders, though,” said Mr. Kennedy to the boys, after a talk with the man. “He was a sort of servant to Bernardo.”

“What does he say was in the box?” asked Frank, eagerly.

“He doesn’t know. He imagined it was money, and that was why he was hanging on to it so tightly. The others, he says, claimed there were only papers in the box – papers that would get them into trouble if they fell into the hands of the government. That’s why it was tossed overboard.”

“Does he know anything about Uncle Phil’s affairs?” asked Ned.

Mr. Kennedy inquired, but the man shook his head. He seemed much disheartened. Possibly he imagined he would be executed.

“And to think we have to come away, and leave at the bottom of the sea evidence that would free Uncle Phil,” said Frank regretfully, as the rescue boat towed them away from the place where the box had sunk.

“Yes, it is too bad,” agreed his brother. “Well, maybe things will take a better turn, now that the revolution is broken up and Bernardo and his crowd scattered.”

“I hope so,” returned Frank, thoughtfully.

When they reached the city the man they had picked up was turned over to the military authorities. Then Frank and Ned reported to their commanding officer. He had just begun to wonder where they had gone, as the fighting was all over, and the blue-jackets (though they all wore white now instead of blue) were reporting back.

“And so they got away?” asked the lieutenant, after hearing the story of our two heroes.

“Yes, and all because of a pint of gasoline!” said Frank, bitterly. “If we’d had that much we could have caught them, I’m sure.”

“But not in time to have saved the box of papers,” Ned remarked.

“Oh well, maybe they’ll be caught, and we can force Bernardo to make a confession and free Uncle Phil,” went on Frank, more hopefully. But Ned shook his head. He did not have much faith.

“Are we to stay on shore longer?” asked Frank of their lieutenant, as the boys and the rest of their squad went back to the coffee warehouse.

“I don’t know. I am waiting for orders. I think we’ll go back, though.”

And a little later word to this effect was sent to them. Those who had borne the brunt of the fighting were ordered back to the Georgetown, while fresh men replaced them as a guard to American interests on shore.

“I guess they want to give the other fellows a chance to have some of the honor and glory,” said Hank Dell, as our friends were on their way to the battleship.

But there was no more fighting that night. Matters were quiet in the capital, though rumors came in of little skirmishes in the outlying districts. The backbone of the revolution seemed to have been broken.

Frank and Ned felt very badly about the loss of the tin box. They felt more sure every hour that it contained just the evidence needed to free their uncle. But the box, at the bottom of the bay, seemed gone beyond hope of recovery.

“Of course Uncle Phil may get out, eventually, anyhow,” suggested Ned, “but I want to see him out now.”

“So do I,” chimed in Frank.

Affairs began to straighten themselves out in the little republic that had gone through such strenuous times. The American and other merchants made preparations to resume their interrupted businesses. For a time it was thought that Bernardo would be caught, but he appeared to have made good his escape.

Then suddenly, about a week later, without warning, the revolutionary fighting broke out again. It appeared that Bernardo and his rascals had landed farther down the coast, and had, by making a detour, reached their stronghold in the hills back of the town. There they made ready for a new attack.

It was made shortly after sunrise one morning following a night march, and at once the alarm was signaled out to the battleship. For some marines had been left on shore to act as guards and sentries, and their commander quickly sent word for reinforcements.

Once again was the call to arms sounded on the Georgetown. Again did the men take to the boats with their rifles and field pieces. Again came that rush on shore and once more the streets of Pectelo echoed to the sounds of fighting, and the rattle of rapid-firers.

But the second effort of the revolutionists was as but a flash in the pan compared to their first attempts, though there was severe fighting in one or two places, and many were killed and wounded, a number of the force of the Georgetown meeting death. But it could not be helped.

Frank and Ned were again permitted to have their share in the hot and exciting work, and this time Frank received a wound in the leg which made it necessary for him to go to the rear.

“I’ll go with you,” offered Ned, as his brother was picked up.

“No, you won’t!” cried Frank. “You stick it out! Maybe you’ll have a chance at Bernardo. I hear he’s on the job again.”

The plucky lad waved his hand at his brother as they bore Frank back to the landing stage to send him aboard the ship where he could have better treatment than in the city hospital.

“Why, the Georgetown is coming closer in shore!” Frank cried, as he looked across the bay and noticed that the vessel was at a new anchorage.

“Yes,” said one of the petty officers, “the old man is going to shell the revolutionary headquarters again, and he’s going to make a good job of it this time. So he put in closer to shore for the work.”

“Good!” cried Frank. “Maybe I’ll have a chance at the guns, if I did have to give up fighting on land.”

“I’m afraid you won’t – not with that leg. And they’re going to bombard soon,” was the answer.

The party taking off the wounded men, of whom there were several besides Frank, waited until the battleship had dropped her anchor in the new location. Then they went aboard, and soon afterward there began a bombardment of the hill section where the rebels had again set up their camp.

The shells from the big guns, as well as those from the smaller ones, flew screeching over the town, and burst in the neighborhood of the two hills, at one of which Frank had fired. The destruction was terrific, but the loss of life small, as most of the rebels were down in the city fighting. Much to his chagrin Frank was not allowed to serve “his” gun, as he called the forward fifteen-inch gun.

But as I have said, the second effort of the rebels did not amount to much. They were soon put to flight, and the effect of the ship’s bombardment, added to the hot fire from the blue-jackets on shore, soon brought the revolution once more to an end. It was most effectually broken this time.

“And that’s not the best of it!” cried Ned, when he came on board with his mates, dirty and powder-stained. “That’s not the best of it, Frank, old man!”

“It isn’t? what is?”

“How’s your leg?”

“Oh, never mind my leg! It’s all right – not so bad. Tell me the news!”

“They captured Bernardo and his gang!”

“They did? Who?”

“I don’t know. Some of our boys, I believe. He’s locked up in the military prison, I hear, and is to be tried as a traitor.”

“Good! Now maybe we can get out of him something that will clear Uncle Phil!”

“Oh, if we only can!” cried Ned.

But it was a vain hope. Bernardo was indeed captured, with most of those who had plotted with him. Some had been killed. The rebel leader, however, maintained an absolute silence when questioned in regard to the boys’ uncle. Mr. Kennedy proved an invaluable friend in conducting these negotiations for Frank and Ned, but they came to no end. Bernardo insisted that Mr. Arden was mixed up in the revolution, and that he was guilty of the political crimes for which he had been convicted. It seemed hopeless to Frank and Ned, and they were more disheartened than ever.

The revolution had been put down, and the Americans and their property in Uridio protected, but it had cost something in gallant lives of the men and youths from the Georgetown. Several had been killed, and more than a score wounded.

But it was in a just cause, and perhaps it had to be. There were some sad scenes following the fighting.

The rebels were dispersed, and most of them renewed their allegiance to the government and were pardoned. Not so, however, Bernardo and his ringleaders. To the end, when he received a sentence of life imprisonment, he maintained that Mr. Arden was guilty of the crimes charged against him.

“And to think if we only had that box, which is at the bottom of the bay, we might free him,” sighed Ned.

“It’s too disheartening to think of,” Frank declared, shaking his head slowly.

Their story was now quite well known, and some of their comrades received permission to use nets, dragging them on the bottom of the bay, in the hope of bringing up the box. Ned helped, and so did Frank when his leg healed, which it did in about ten days. But the efforts were fruitless.

“Well, we leave here to-morrow,” said Frank one day, as he and his brother were taking their ease on deck, having just finished their tour of duty.

“Yes, it’s been a great time while it lasted, but I do wish we had some good news to take back North to Uncle Phil.”

“So do I.”

The battleship was soon to leave. Matters in Uridio had now quieted down, and the government had the situation well in hand. Every promise was made that the rights of the Americans would be respected, and they were to be given adequate sums for the damage caused to their property by the rebels. The stronghold of the latter had literally been blown to bits by the big guns of the Georgetown.

Shortly after reveille one morning word was given to hoist the anchors. A parting salute had been fired as a compliment to the Uridian flag. It was answered from a small land battery. The one cruiser owned by the rebels had not been seen since the Georgetown had pursued her.

What had become of her was not learned until later, when it was discovered that her commander had been told of the collapse of the revolution, and had discreetly remained away. Later he took service with the government and turned his craft over to the authorities, so unless she has sunk, or tried to fight some other vessel out of her class, the little war craft may yet be doing duty for Uridio.

“Well, it’s good-bye to Uridio,” remarked Ned, as he looked landward.

“That’s what it is,” answered Frank.

“I wonder if we will ever see this place again?”

“I doubt it – that is, unless there is another revolution.”

“Oh, I guess they’ve got fighting enough for the present.”

“Just what I think.”

“Maybe we’ll see some other countries, more interesting than this. I’d like to go to Europe, and to Japan and China, and I’d like to see Africa too.”

“Wow! Why don’t you include the North Pole and Australia while you are at it,” came with a laugh. “Warships like this don’t travel just any old place. It costs too much money.”

“Oh, I know that. Just the same I’d like to see other countries, especially those that are well built up. This is only a one-horse affair.”

“It isn’t much of a place, that’s true.”

Slowly the great anchors of the Georgetown came out of the bay as the steam winches wound up the big chains. Ned and Frank were on duty forward as the immense hooks came to the surface.

Something on one of the flukes caught Frank’s eye. It looked like a bunch of seaweed, but when he glanced a second time he saw what it was, and cried out.

“Ned! Ned! Great guns, Ned! Look at that! It’s the tin box! The tin box Bernardo’s man threw out of the boat. It caught on the fluke of the anchor and was brought up from the bottom of the bay! Great guns! Don’t let it get away again! It’s the box with the papers that may free Uncle Phil!” and he fairly hopped up and down.