"Have the men breakfasted, sir?" was Hal's first thought and question. A really good officer always thinks first of his men.

"They have all breakfasted, Mr. Overton. I do not imagine you will have much to do in the day-time. You have only your boat guard of six men under Sergeant Raney. The water-front patrol I have called in and sent to camp."

Hal ate his breakfast in leisurely fashion. He had slept well and was refreshed, but he believed that he had a long and dull day before him. And so it proved. The day passed on with absolutely nothing to do but eat and lounge, save for the one sentry who watched both boat and shore end.

It was almost dark, and Hal had just seated himself in the cabin to eat his supper when the sentry hailed:

"Lieutenant Overton!"

Hal showed his head at the cabin door.

"A detachment of troops approaching, sir."

"Well, they're our own men, aren't they, sentry?" Hal inquired.

"I think not, sir."

Hal stepped back into the cabin, picked up and donned his cap, then stepped out on deck. The approaching troops were on the dock by the time that the young lieutenant had returned to the open.

"Two officers and ten men!" flashed through Hal's mind.

Then, of a sudden, he felt like giving a whoop of joy. Instead, however, he darted down the gang-plank, then caught himself and walked forward with dignity just as one of the approaching officers called out with military crispness:

"Squad halt! Break ranks!"

"Mr. Prescott! Mr. Holmes!" cried Hal, going up to the two lieutenants who had just arrived.

"Hullo, Overton," responded both newly-arrived officers, extending their hands, while Prescott added:

"By Jove, I didn't count on finding you here, though I heard that you had won your commission. Where's Terry?"

"Up at our camp, Mr. Prescott."

"Drop the formal 'Mr.,' Overton, do," urged Lieutenant Prescott. "We have known each other long enough not to stand on ceremony."

"We've known each other in other times," laughed Holmes, "and in much more stirring times, I take it, than these are likely to be."

"Don't be too sure about the present being tame times," urged Hal. "From what we have seen here so far I believe that we are right in the middle of a district that is heavily engaged in sending arms over into Mexico. We may have a fight with a lot of these desperate, fanatic Mexican rebels at any moment."

"Let it come, then," laughed Holmes indifferently. "We need a bit of practice, now and then, to keep us in handy touch with our work."

"But how does the Thirty-fourth happen to be down here?" Hal asked curiously.

"Ordered away from Fort Clowdry. That's all I know," Prescott answered. "At least B and C companies were sent. We detrained at Spartansburg, eighteen miles from here. The two companies are now about six miles above, save for this little detachment, which was sent down to report to Captain Foster for some co-operation with you on the water."

"Lieutenant," spoke a sergeant of B company, approaching and saluting, "may I ask, sir, whether the men are to eat field rations or whether they're to be fed on the boat?"

"What do you say, Overton? How much food is there on the boat?"

"I'll find out from the cook," Hal answered. "Sergeant Kelly, are you going to forget me in that fashion?"

"You're an officer now, sir," replied Sergeant Kelly, saluting. "I awaited your pleasure, sir, about speaking."

"I can't see that you've changed any, Sergeant," smiled Hal, extending his hand. "But for the difference in some of the stage-settings we might seem to be in the Philippines instead of in Texas."

"This is 'God's country,' sir," replied Kelly, with an air almost of reverence. "There's nothing in the Philippines as restful to the eye as the meanest stretch in the United States."

Only a few months before while Hal and Noll were still in the Philippines Kelly had been made a corporal. Kelly was one of the staunchest souls in the Army. Many a time had he, with Noll and Hal, braved death side by side when facing the treacherous Moros. Since that time he had won the higher grade of sergeant.

"I'm heartily glad to see you again, Sergeant Kelly," Hal went on.

"Not more, sir, I'll be bound, than I am to see yourself," rejoined the sergeant.

Then, with a final salute, Kelly fell back, muttering to himself:

"'Tis come, the time when I must be saying 'sir' to two broths of boys that I've cooked bacon and coffee with over the same fire. But I don't begrudge either boy his honors. The two of them, they're the best of fine soldiers and true."

Hal hurriedly learned from the tug's cook that the provisions on board were equal to furnishing all the newly arrived soldiers with breakfast within an hour.

"And can I serve the two officers now with you, if you want, Lieutenant," said the cook.

"Then please do so."

Hal led his two brother-officers to the cabin, where Prescott and Holmes, after having removed their swords and belts, made hasty toilets and seated themselves.

"I imagine a good many more commands will be ordered into the field," Prescott continued. "Every few years a lot of discontented fellows over in Mexico start some kind of a revolution, but this present one appears to be the strongest one yet. Colonel North, I know, had a report to the effect that Mexicans enough were waiting on the other side of the river to organize a large army corps as soon as they can get guns enough from this side."

"Any arms captured on this side, yet, that you know of, Overton?"

"No," Hal answered. "But I guess a cargo got across all right. We got this boat, and a lot of cases on board, but the cases have been carted up to camp. If the cases have been opened yet I haven't heard what they contained."

"Arms or ammunition, or both, undoubtedly," nodded Lieutenant Holmes. "The Mexicans would hardly go to the trouble of sending a cargo of anything else out in the dead of night."

"Yes; I imagine they were arms, but I don't want to say so. Captain Foster did find war supplies in two of the cases that he opened, I ought to add. But I guess I've been rattled by meeting you two so unexpectedly."

"Getting rattled is a highly unmilitary form of conduct," retorted Prescott, with a look of mock sternness.

While the young officers were still at the table Captain Foster boarded and entered the cabin.

"Keep your seats, gentlemen," directed Captain Foster, throwing himself into a corner seat. "I've just eaten. Mr. Overton, your present detachment will march ashore presently, when a sergeant and nine men relieve them here. The two companies of the Thirty-fourth are to watch the water front to the west of us. When you go on the water to-night you'll carry officers and men from both regiments. If you have to land anywhere within the territory guarded by the Thirty-seventh, Mr. Overton, you'll be in command. If within the territory of the Thirty-fourth Mr. Prescott is detailed by Captain Cortland to command on landing. While pursuing on the water, Mr. Overton, you will be in command at all times, as our regiment is furnishing the boat. Mr. Terry will accompany you also."

"There's a Navy officer, Ensign Darrin, who was visiting at Fort Clowdry, and who accompanied us, sir," announced Lieutenant Prescott. "Mr. Darrin stopped up in the village for supper and to send a telegram or two. If Mr. Darrin reaches us here in time, sir, I request permission to take him on board as a passenger."

"Who's taking my name in vain?" demanded a hearty voice from the cabin doorway.

Ensign Dave Darrin, U. S. N., as fine a looking young naval officer as ever trod bridge or quarter-dock, stood looking in.

"Come in, Darrin," cried Prescott, leaping up and moving forward. "Captain Foster, permit me to present Mr. Darrin, of the Navy."

Captain Foster made Darrin wholly welcome in a few words.

"Hullo, Overton. Where's Terry?" cried Ensign Dave.

More greetings were in order.

"Just as you announced yourself, Mr. Darrin," said Captain Foster, "Mr. Prescott was asking permission to take you on the water as a passenger to-night. I beg to assure you that you will be most heartily welcome to go anywhere with this very small slice of the Army."

Darrin expressed his thanks.

Readers of the third volume of this series are sure to remember Ensigns Darrin and Dalzell, then midshipmen, who visited Prescott and Holmes in the Rocky Mountains and took part in a famous hunting trip. Hal and Noll, then sergeants, then made their first acquaintance with Darrin and Dalzell.

All readers of the "HIGH SCHOOL BOYS' SERIES" know full well that Darrin and Dalzell were famous members of the Dick & Co. of bygone school days, while readers of the "ANNAPOLIS SERIES" have followed Dave and Dan all through their days at the United States Naval Academy.

"As all you youngsters know each other from old times I fancy you'll have a most agreeable time on the water to-night, if there proves to be nothing to do but swap yarns of former days," smiled Captain Foster.

"Don't you go with us on the water, sir!" inquired Ensign Darrin.

"No; I am on shore. Mr. Overton, however, will give the best account of my hospitality that the limited resources of this boat permit."

"Where's Mr. Dalzell?" asked Lieutenant Hal, as he finished his coffee.

"Why, he's up at Fort Clowdry—waiting—to—well, I guess I'll let Prescott tell it," finished Ensign Dave.

For some reason Prescott blushed slightly, opened his mouth as though to speak, and then failed to do so. The reason for his confusion will appear later.

By this time darkness had come on, and the cook, who was also the only cabin attendant, had switched on the electric lights in the snug cabin. The young officers, however, felt that they had so many matters to discuss that the deck would give them more room, so they adjourned.

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!"



CHAPTER XX

AN OFFICER AND HIS HONOR

"I'm afraid you're as badly off as the hunter's dog," observed Lieutenant Hal coldly.

"How is that?"

"You're barking up the wrong tree."

The purple-faced man looked searchingly into the clear, steady eyes of the young Army officer. Then he answered laughingly:

"Oh, come, now. Don't try to keep me guessing too long, or I may lose my patience, and you may lose some money that you'd rather have. Up forward there's a stateroom, and the light is turned on in there. Just step into the stateroom, by yourself, and count—this."

From a trousers pocket the purple-faced one had drawn a huge roll of bank-notes. Before Hal Overton could understand what was happening the stranger had pushed this roll of money into the young officer's hand.

"That's only a starter—something down to prove good faith, you understand," whispered the stranger.

"You—you dog!" cried Lieutenant Hal angrily.

Swat! The compact roll of bank-notes struck the stranger in the face, then bounded to the floor at Hal's feet. The latter kicked the money away from him.

"You needn't be so huffy about it," grumbled the other. "As I told you, that money is only a deposit paid down."

"You'll go down, if you try anything more like that," uttered Lieutenant Hal wrathfully.

"Ah, now, see here, don't be a fool," urged the stranger huskily. "I don't want to spend a lot of time behind bars or too much in the courts either. Now, all you'll have to do will be to help me frame a yarn that we can both——"

"Stop! I think I've heard about enough from you," warned Lieutenant Overton angrily.

"But, you idiot, I can offer you more money than you'll make in twenty years of soldiering!"

"Perhaps you can, but you needn't bother. Do you imagine, fellow, that an Army officer's honor is of so little importance to him that he'll sell it to a higher bidder. Now, I've had enough of you. Get out of here."

As Hal spoke he unfastened his belt and tossed it on to a seat at the side. It was his intention to call his brother officers into the cabin during the trip back. But at that moment Noll showed in the doorway.

"Lieutenant Overton, Mr. Halstead is inquiring whether you are ready with further orders."

That brought Hal to his feet, and also to the realization that both motor boats would have to be manned. Indeed, he would have to give a few moments of thought about the return to the American shore.

Hastily joining his brother officers on deck, Hal also called to Prescott, who placed a chair for the young woman and then joined the group.

"Prescott," Hal began, "I don't imagine that the capture of this craft is warrant for our abandoning river guard for the rest of the night. The 'Restless,' I take it, must continue the patrol until other orders are received."

"Undoubtedly," nodded Prescott.

"Therefore, it's my intention, with a few of our men, to take this prize into Agua Dulce. The remainder of the officers and men ought to remain aboard the 'Restless.' Now, as that boat belongs to the Thirty-seventh for the present I shall have to leave Terry in command in my absence, though yourself and Holmes are clearly the ranking officers here."

"There isn't anything else that can be done," agreed Lieutenant Prescott. "And believe me, my dear fellow, Holmes and I are not disturbed over seeing the command in the hands of officers whom we just happen to rank."

Hal, therefore, ordered his own sergeant and six men to remain on the prize, while the rest of the military party stepped over on to the "Restless." The two craft thereupon parted.

"Sergeant," ordered Overton, "you will see that this helmsman steers a straight course for Agua Dulce. Don't stand any nonsense from him. See that the start is made at once."

Just then Lieutenant Hal recalled the fact that he had left belt and revolver on a seat in the cabin. He went there, promptly, picked up the belt and buckled it on.

"Are you ready to talk business with me, now?" demanded the purple-faced one, in a low voice.

"I don't believe I care to have anything more to do with you," Hal retorted stiffly.

"Oh, go ahead and ruin me, then," snarled the stranger.

Hal, ascending to the deck, spoke to a soldier standing there.

"Rainsford, see that the man in the cabin does not come up on deck," Hal directed. "Keep your eye on him as the most important prisoner on this prize craft."

The purple-faced man stared after Hal Overton's retreating form.

"So you wouldn't come to terms, eh?" demanded the fellow, under his breath. "You'd rather ruin me. Two or three years in prison will ruin me, just at present, for my affairs will go to smash if I have to drop behind bars for a while. And if the government of Mexico finds that I have been helping the insurrectos it will mean total loss to me, perhaps, where my properties are situated in other parts of Mexico. And you, young whippersnapper in shoulder straps, you talked to me of your honor. Well, I'll pitchfork that honor of yours!"

The purple-faced man laughed harshly. He was in a deadly frame of mind.

Presently two soldiers came down, halting in the cabin doorway.

"We are ready, sir," spoke one of them.

"Ready for what?" jeered the stranger. "Have you come to shoot me?"

"We're nearing the dock at Agua Dulce, sir, and the lieutenant sent us to get you and make sure that you don't try to escape."

"I'll be bound that you won't give me any chance to get away," jeered the fellow.

"No, sir," answered the soldier gravely.

The Mexican helmsman proved that he was no mean boat-handler. He ran in alongside the dock, making nearly as fine a landing as Skipper Tom Halstead himself could have done. Lieutenant Hal waited only long enough for Corporal Shimple to send over two men from the tug in a row-boat to stand guard over the motor boat prize. Then, with his own boat squad, and leaving behind only the dead and the wounded Mexican, the Army boy marched his prisoners by a route that led around the village instead of through it.

Captain Foster had lain down, fully dressed, prepared to be called at any moment. He now came forth from his tent. He heard Lieutenant Hal's brief report with few interruptions.

"Your name, sir?" demanded Foster, turning to the purple-faced one.

"James D. Ruggles," came the surly answer.

"I hope you are giving your correct name."



"Why shouldn't I? If I gave you a wrong name there are plenty of people hereabouts who could soon set you straight."

"Your business, Mr. Ruggles?"

"Owner of mines in Mexico."

"Any in the insurrecto district?" pursued Captain Foster.

"Yes. That's why——"

Ruggles checked himself suddenly.

"You are not required to confess or incriminate yourself, unless you want to," Captain Foster advised the prisoner. "However, I imagine that the cargo of the boat and your actions to-night will furnish all the evidence against you that are needed. Mr. Ruggles, I shall have to hold you and your Mexican companions until I am advised what to do with you. There is no charge against your daughter. She may go to the hotel in Agua Dulce, if you wish. I will see to it that she is properly escorted."

"If you will be so good, Captain," answered Ruggles huskily. "But where shall I sleep to-night?"

"On a cot in the guard-tent, sir. I am sorry, but that is the best that we can do."

Meta Ruggles began to weep softly over her father's trouble and disgrace. Sergeant Raney, therefore, escorted her from camp as soon as he could persuade her to start for the village. Raney was also directed to send an undertaker for the body of the dead Mexican, and a local physician to look after the wounded one.

"You are going to sit here for a while, Captain?" inquired Ruggles.

"I think I shall."

"Then may I sit with you a few minutes before I am marched off to the guard-tent?"

"Certainly."

Hal had stepped into the tent shared in common by the officers. Ruggles, who had bitten the end from a cigar and had lighted the weed, now leaned over to whisper to Captain Foster:

"Has the young man had chance to give you a word or two of explanation yet?"

"What young man?" demanded Captain Foster, turning to look at Ruggles.

"Why, the officer who marched us over here."

"Lieutenant Overton?"

"Certainly. Has he told you anything? I mean about how this whole business is to be fixed so as to keep me out of it altogether?"

"What on earth are you talking about?" demanded Captain Foster, who was now wondering whether his ears had played him a trick.

"Why, it's all settled," murmured Ruggles.

"I turned the money over to your chap, Overton, and he told me it would be all fixed. I'm not to be held or prosecuted in this matter. The trouble is all to fall on the Mexicans."

"I wish I knew what you were talking about," cried Captain Foster.

"Why, it's plain enough, Captain. I paid the money over to your lieutenant, and he and you were to fix it so I could slide out of the matter and keep my name out, too. I paid Overton the five thousand dollars, which he said would be enough for you both and that it would be all right."

"Mr. Overton!" called Captain Foster gasping.

But Hal did not have to be summoned. He had heard Ruggles's last statement from the doorway of the officers' tent.

"Here I am, sir," cried Lieutenant Hal, coming forward, "and I overheard that lying hound! What this fellow, Ruggles, is telling you, Captain, is wholly false."

"I know it, Overton, I know it," cried Captain Foster, who had sprung to his feet.

"Am I to be flimflammed, after paying the money in good faith?" demanded Ruggles. "See here, Captain, I drew twenty thousand dollars, in twenty bills, at the bank this afternoon. That I can easily prove, of course. Nor can any one on earth prove that I have spent any of that money, for, as it happens, I had the cashier at the bank take the numbers of the thousand-dollar bills. In this envelope, sir, you will find fifteen of the bills left. The numbers of the missing bills can be proved, and the missing bills you will find in the possession of your lieutenant."

"It's a cowardly lie!" blazed thunderstruck Hal, leaping forward. But Captain Foster pushed him gently back.

"I haven't a doubt that it's a lie, Overton, my boy," replied Foster. "Yet don't get too excited, or try to use violence on your accuser. Remember that I am simply bound to hear any complaint that may be preferred against any officer in my command. Be cool, Overton, and be sure that no harm can come to you if you are innocent, as I am certain that you are. Here is your envelope, Mr. Ruggles. I have looked over the contents, which are, as you state, fifteen one-thousand-dollar bills."

"And the other bills you will find on this lieutenant. Though, wait a moment. He has just been in his tent. He may have hidden the money there."

"If it's true that you handed this lieutenant money, Mr. Ruggles, what did he do with it when he first received it?" asked Foster.

"I don't know, Captain, except that he went forward into the stateroom to look it over. He didn't have it in his hand when he came out of the stateroom."

"You——" quivered Hal.

"Easy, Overton, lad," admonished the captain. "Nothing is proved by calling another hard names. Take that chair, Mr. Overton, and wait until Sergeant Raney returns."

Pausing by the chair, before dropping into it, Hal faced his captain to say:

"I beg, sir, that you will order a search at once. I offer my person, my baggage—everything to be searched."

"I will have Sergeant Raney do it as soon as he returns," Captain Foster assured the angry young officer. "Raney is a wholly discreet fellow."

In time Sergeant Raney returned. He looked somewhat surprised when, after being taken into the officers' tent with his two superiors and Ruggles, Raney was ordered to begin a careful search of the lieutenant. Captain Foster stood where he could instantly have detected any effort that the Army boy might have made to throw any thing away.

Hal's first act was to unfasten his belt, and drop it, revolver and all, upon a chair. Then he straightened up, very white from the humiliation, yet absolutely sure, of course, that nothing damaging could be found upon him. Sergeant Raney went systematically through the young officer's pockets, searched for a money belt and failed to find one, explored his young officer's socks and shoes and even searched Hal's hatband.

"Now, the cartridge-box and revolver holster, Sergeant," insisted Captain Foster.

"And after that whatever baggage the young man may have," breathed Ruggles. "Also his bedding and——"

"Peace, sir!" commanded Captain Foster. "Wait until——"

Sergeant Raney, having opened Hal's revolver holster, now extracted a crumpled mass of folded bills!

"That's the money!" cried Ruggles, as Captain Foster unfolded the bills. "Read out the numbers, Captain, and we'll all take notes. I'll prove by the bank that this was my money earlier in the day!"



CHAPTER XXI

AMERICAN WOMEN IN PERIL!

Slowly Captain Foster read off the numbers, writing them down in a notebook that he carried. As the older officer glanced up he met the burning gaze of Lieutenant Hal Overton.

"Captain," cried the Army boy hoarsely, "I don't know by what juggling trickery this was done, but I never have handled that money, though it would seem that I must have been carrying it around in my holster."

"Bah!" sneered Ruggles.

Had it not been for Captain Foster's quick leap between the pair Hal would have knocked the purple-faced fellow down.

"Careful, Mr. Overton," warned the captain. "Violence will injure your case, not help it. Mr. Ruggles, I will hold this money as evidence, but I will give you a receipt for it."

"On that receipt will you enter the numbers of the bills?" demanded the purple-faced one craftily.

"Certainly," and Foster made the receipt out in that form, handing it to the promoter.

"Sergeant of the guard!" called Captain Foster.

Hal stiffened, his face turning ghastly. He felt that it would be better to die than to live a life of disgrace. The thought that he had been easily but cleverly tricked made his blood boil within him.

"Sergeant, conduct the prisoner Ruggles to the guard-tent, where the Mexicans are. Instruct the guard that they are to make absolutely sure that this prisoner doesn't escape."

"Doesn't your young man go to the guard-tent, too?" demanded Ruggles, as he stepped toward the sergeant.

"I will be responsible for the lieutenant," rejoined the captain coldly. "Thank you, Sergeant Raney. You may go. Of course you will be discreet."

When the two officers had the tent to themselves Foster turned his grave look on Hal Overton.

"My boy," said the captain, in a voice that shook, "I can't realize, even yet, that you have forfeited your honor as an officer."

"Nor have I, sir," returned Hal. "And I am even bold enough to hope that I can yet find some way of throwing the whole lie back in that fellow's throat with more proof than even he will care to swallow."

"I hope you can, Overton, with all my heart," responded the older soldier, resting a hand on his white-faced junior's shoulder.

"Do you believe me guilty, sir?" asked Hal, looking straight into his commander's eyes.

"Heavens knows I don't. To me, Overton, the whole thing seems absurd and incredible. But I am your commanding officer. A charge has been made that apparently destroys your honor. Some seeming proof against you has been found. There is only one course open to me. I must detain you in camp until I have communicated through the usual military channels."

"Am—am I under arrest?" asked Hal somewhat huskily.

"No, no, Overton!" exclaimed the older soldier quickly. "But you must give me your parole—not to go beyond camp limits at any time or for any purpose without my express permission."

"You have my parole, sir. It shall be rigidly observed."

"And now, Mr. Overton, I suggest that, as you have nothing else to do, you lie down and sleep through the night."

"Sleep, sir?" echoed Lieutenant Hal bitterly.

"Rest, then, at all events."

For two or three hours the Army boy lay and tossed. Toward morning, however, he secured some real sleep. When he opened his eyes it was to find Noll in the tent.

"I've heard the news, old bunkie," cried Terry, coming forward as soon as he saw his comrade's eyes open. "All rot! Forget it. It'll come out all right. When Prescott and Holmes heard the news they laughed aloud over the absurdity of it."

"I wish I was as sure of every one's faith in me," quivered the Army boy, returning his chums' hand-grip.

"Get up and dress. Captain Foster has had his meal, but the others are all waiting for you to hurry through to the table."

Three other young officers had crowded into the tent before Hal had finished dressing.

"The whole thing is absurd, Overton," declared Lieutenant Dick Prescott. "Holmesy and I have told Captain Foster so. We had you under our eyes in the Thirty-fourth during most of your more than three years of service. We know you too well to believe a word of any such fool charge against you."

"Even in the face of the money found in my holster?" asked Hal smiling wistfully.

"Huh!" retorted Lieutenant Greg Holmes. "It wouldn't shake our belief in you, old man, if the whole United States Treasury had been found hiding in your holster! Now, forget it all, as well as you can, Overton. Leave it to your friends, who will be cooler-headed, to find the way out from under this toy cloud. Why, even Foster knows it's all so absurd that he doesn't order you under arrest."

"Thank you all, fellows," replied Hal, his eyes gleaming as he shook hands with all three of his Army comrades and with the friend from the Navy. "I'll brace and fight every inch of the way. But," he could not help adding, wistfully, "I wish I could see how I am going to be able to clear myself so that not even a trace of a taint of suspicion can rest against any name."

The youngsters tried to make breakfast a merry meal, though they were not wholly successful. During the night, following the taking of the prize, Skipper Tom Halstead, it seemed, had been entertaining the four young officers left aboard the "Restless" with several exciting tales of his own wholly exciting life as a motor boat master. Most of these tales are already familiar to the readers of the "MOTOR BOAT CLUB SERIES."

"What's Halstead's home port?" asked Hal, rather absently, for, naturally, his mind was rather full of his own troubles.

"Some little place near the mouth of the Kennebec River," Prescott answered.

"Then isn't he a long way from home?" asked Hal.

"Halstead often is a long way from home," nodded Lieutenant Holmes. "Not so very long ago Halstead commanded a yacht on the Pacific Ocean, and had some of his most rousing adventures at that time."

"It's young fellows like Halstead, Joe Dawson and that queer genius, Hank Butts, who are needed to build up the American merchant marine once more," Prescott continued.

Having been up all night most of the young officers were now glad to turn in for a few hours of sleep. Lieutenant Hal passed a wretched day of it.

Toward four o'clock in the afternoon an orderly brought in the afternoon mail from the village. With the mail came two telegrams, one for Captain Foster and the other for Lieutenant Prescott. That latter young officer tore open his telegram eagerly, and read:

"Received, en route, your telegram stating you were ordered to Holmesville. Belle and I at once changed our route and are here at Holmesville, Eagle Hotel. Mother with us. Find you not here, and no troops here, and that we will not be allowed to join your command. What shall we do?

"LAURA BENTLEY."

"What a queer girl's freak that was," murmured Prescott, and called Ensign Dave Darrin over to read the despatch.

"I'm afraid I don't like that," muttered Dave, his brow darkening. "We'd better wire the girls begging them to get away from the border as soon as they know how."

"Who's that you're going to order away from the border, Mr. Darrin?" inquired Captain Foster, coming up and catching only a few words.

"No one that we can very well order, sir," replied Darrin. "I may as well tell the captain. You see, sir, Laura Bentley and Belle Meade are the two girl sweethearts that waited for us until we got settled in the service. They were on their way West to Fort Clowdry, for both girls wanted a military wedding, and there was nothing of that sort to be had in the home town. So Prescott wired them, aboard their train, that he was ordered to Holmesville, and that I was going along with him, and that we'd be back at Fort Clowdry at the earliest moment. But the girls took it into their head to change their route to Holmesville. Maybe you can get away, Dick; in any case I'll hire an automobile and get up to Holmesville as quickly as I can."

"I am afraid there may be some difficulty about your getting into Holmesville, or the young ladies getting out," replied Captain Foster.

"What do you mean, sir?" demanded Prescott, noting how serious was the look on the captain's face.

"A few weeks ago, gentlemen, a mob burned a Mexican at the stake up at Holmesville. The Mexican was a worthless fellow, but of course an effort has been made to fasten the crime on the Texan residents of the town. As a matter of fact it is generally understood that the man lynched was burned by his own countryman as a result of some row among themselves. But the Mexicans on this border are in an ugly frame of mind, just now, as the most disorderly ones are all behind the revolution that's trying to get a start across the border. This telegram is from Washington, and informs me that the Mexicans have just turned loose at Holmesville. There are hundreds of them; they have been drinking and are armed. They greatly outnumber the Americans, and they are at present trying to get the upper hand in Holmesville."

"Riot and killing?" gasped Lieutenant Prescott, while Darrin's dark face went suddenly white.

"Yes," nodded Captain Foster.

"Then Prescott, we must get under way at once."

"You'll find it quite hopeless," remarked Captain Foster. "No man owning an automobile will take you into or near Holmesville until the rioting stops. The War Department advises me to have all in readiness to despatch troops by the river in case the governor of Texas calls for the help of United States troops."

"We ought to start an expedition up the river at once," groaned Lieutenant Dick Prescott, thinking of his and his friend's sweethearts in awful danger there.

"Unfortunately we can't start troops," replied the captain, "until the orders come. There are as yet no orders, and may not be."

"Then I must get under way alone," almost moaned Darrin. "You, too, Prescott, if you can get leave by 'phone from your commander."

"You can't get an auto," replied Captain Foster. "You'll have to walk, or go in saddle. Either course will take you nearly all of the night."

"But one of your boats, sir?" cried Prescott.

"You're an officer, Prescott, and you must realize that I can't legally release one of my boats from the duty here without an order or permission."

"And all the time Belle and Laura may be trying to hide from a blood-thirsty mob!" gasped Darrin in a frenzy.

"You stay here, Dick," broke in Greg Holmes. "I'll run to the nearest 'phone, get Captain Cortland at the other end of the wire, explain the situation to him and get leave to absent ourselves."

"But even at the best it will take hours to reach Holmesville," muttered Prescott, through blanched lips. "Oh, Dave, Dave, this is awful!"

"We'll get there, somehow—at least I will," muttered Ensign Darrin, in a quivering voice. "If you don't get leave within ten minutes, Dick, I'm going to start alone and try to run all the way to Holmesville. Captain Foster, you'll loan me a revolver and two boxes of cartridges, won't you?"

"Certainly," replied Foster, going into his tent and coming out with the articles named.

"I would like to make a suggestion, sir," broke in Lieutenant Hal.

"Go ahead, Mr. Overton," responded the captain.

"Why not send two men at once to the telegraph station? Order the telegraph office manager to remain open all night for military telegrams. If one comes, one of our men can start here at once on the run, leaving the other soldier to wait for a second despatch that may come in its wake."

"An excellent idea, Mr. Overton," and Captain Foster immediately sent two soldiers off on that errand.

"Sir, I request permission, if it can possibly be granted, to go with Darrin, Prescott and Holmes," broke in Lieutenant Noll.

"You may have that leave, certainly, Mr. Terry," replied Captain Foster.

"And I, also, Captain," broke in Hal eagerly, "since this affair involves the lives of the intended brides of two officers, and is most certainly a service affair."

"I fear you have forgotten something, Mr. Overton," replied Captain Foster gently. "You are now confined to camp, under charges."

Hal fell back, going suddenly white and staggering as though he had received a blow. In truth he had.

"I forgot," he assented wretchedly. "And, oh, this is hard, sir. I am wholly innocent of the charge, and yet of course you have no right to take my mere word. This, in the face of a desperate expedition that I want to join more than I ever wanted anything in my life as a soldier!"



CHAPTER XXII

SERGEANT KELLY'S FIT OF REMEMBERING

Holmes was back with the speed of the wind. Even before he reached the camp he waved his cap, shouting:

"It's all right."

"And I'm going with you," Noll added.

"You, too, Overton?" demanded Lieutenant Greg Holmes.

"I can't," groaned Hal Overton.

"Oh, I beg your pardon, old chap," gasped Holmes, overcome with the thought of the humiliation he had needlessly caused this gallant young brother officer.

"I'm under charges, you know," remarked Hal, with a wan smile.

"Confound that Ruggles!" broke impetuously from Holmes's lips. "I'd almost like to burn him at a stake."

"Yes; it's tough," cried Prescott, "to be deprived of the help of one of the bravest, quickest-witted men in the United States Army!"

This heart-felt praise served as some balm to Hal's wounded, grief-stricken spirits. He would have given anything he possessed to join this long dash to save, if possible, two imperiled American girls.

"And there are other American women there to-night," added Hal brokenly.

None of the time was lost in talk, however, for the young officers who were to go were now busy looking to their weapons and ammunition, their canteens of water and other needed supplies.

It was unavoidable that the news should have leaked out among the soldiers now in camp.

The four young officers started soon, each giving Hal a silent, soul-felt grip of the hand before starting.

"Now, why the dickens ain't Lieutenant Overton going?" demanded Sergeant Kelly in wonder.

"Don't you know?" demanded a corporal. "Lieutenant Overton is in camp, under charges."

"What are ye talking about, man?" demanded Kelly incredulously.

"Oh, it's the truth," insisted the corporal. "It's a frame-up, I am certain, but the prisoner, Ruggles, claimed that he gave the lieutenant five thousand dollars last night to fix it to let him, Ruggles, escape the consequences of smuggling arms over the border."

"What a silly lie!" sputtered Sergeant Kelly. "And did your captain believe a fool's fairy-tale like that?"

"He wouldn't have," replied the corporal, "only the lieutenant was searched, and the money was found hidden in his revolver holster."

"In the holster, say ye?" demanded Sergeant Kelly, with a flash of his eyes. The next words he uttered came in a shout:

"Binns, ye lop-sided shadow of a rookie!" he bellowed.

"Here, Sarge," answered a soldier, across a row of tents. "And what's got on your temper, Sarge?"

"Come here and ye'll be finding out!" growled Kelly, making a grab for the soldier. He caught that mystified fighting man, and, without a word, dragged him before Captain Foster.

"Salute the captain, ye deaf-mute!" ordered Kelly, letting go of the soldier and bringing his own hand up smartly to the brim of his cap.

"What's the meaning of these lightning tactics, Sergeant?" demanded Captain Foster.

"The meaning is, sir," ran on Kelly rapidly, "that I want this man to tell you something."

"What is it, my man?" demanded the captain.

"I don't know, sir," confessed Private Binns. "You'll have to ask Sergeant Kelly, sir."

"Binns," exploded Kelly, "you and me was standing at the stern on the captured motor boat for a spell, last night."

"We was—were," admitted Binns.

"Tell the captain what we saw when we looked down into the cabin, out of the darkness."

"Why we saw Ruggles handling Lieutenant Overton's revolver, in its holster," continued Private Binns.

"Now, what did the fellow Ruggles, do with the holster?" continued Sergeant Kelly severely.

"We saw him open the flap."

"And then?"

"Ruggles closed it again," stated Binns.

"Did we see him put anything in the holster?" cried Sergeant Kelly.

"Yes," admitted the soldier.

"What did it look like?"

"Paper—perhaps money," replied Binns slowly.

"D'ye think ye begin to see a light, Captain?" flashed Sergeant Kelly triumphantly. Then he turned to the soldier once more with:

"What did Ruggles do next?"

"He put the holster down and got up."

"How did he look?" pressed Kelly.

"Pleased, he looked. He grinned and muttered something quickly."

"Now, all that, Captain, sir, I'll swear to myself," continued the sergeant, turning in triumph to Captain Foster.

"Why didn't you tell me all this before?" demanded Captain Foster, while Hal stood by, all a-quiver, yet too full of emotion to speak.

"Because, sir, 'twas only a minute ago that I knew there'd be anything in our news. Binns and myself thought that Ruggles, when he picked up the lieutenant's revolver, had some notion of blowing out his brains. Had he taken the gun out of the holster we'd have jumped down into the cabin and taken it away from him. When he put the holster down, we concluded the fellow had only picked it up in a moment's curiosity. Then Binns and meself saw the lieutenant coming, and stepped away. I even thought, at the time, sir, that the paper was something that Ruggles had disturbed in the holster."

"Come with me to the guard-tent," ordered Captain Foster. "You, too, Mr. Overton!"

"Ah, ye scoundrel, I'm sorry I didn't throw ye overboard last night!" was Sergeant Kelly's warm greeting as his eyes fell upon Ruggles.

"Stand back, Sergeant. Don't use any violence on the prisoner," commanded Captain Foster.

Under the accusation that the sergeant poured forth Mr. Ruggles quickly wilted. Then he became sullen, refusing to admit any of the charges.

"I'll take the word of a good sergeant and an honest soldier," announced Captain Foster, turning and resting a hand on Hal's nearer shoulder. "Mr. Overton, Ruggles can prefer his charges at his leisure, if he wishes to, but as for me, until orders come from higher authority to the contrary, I inform you that you are no longer confined to camp. If there is time, Overton, you may run after the other young officers and go with them. I'll watch the river to-night myself."

"I'm afraid I can't overtake them now, sir," replied Hal, who, at least, was overjoyed at the appearance of this new and saving testimony. "I don't know just which road they've taken."

"Bugler!" shouted Captain Foster. As the field musician came running up he added: "Sound the recall. I think Prescott and the others will understand that. Blow your hardest, Bugler. Give the call three times. That will bring them back, but every man among them, Overton, will think it worth while coming back briefly to add a fighting man like yourself to their number!"

Two or three minutes later the four young officers could be made out, coming back on the run.

At the same time one of the soldiers detailed at the telegraph office came up on the run from another direction.



CHAPTER XXIII

IN THE THICK OF THE RIOT

"What is it, sir? Troops ordered out?"

"Yes!" cried Captain Foster, joyously, after a brief glance at the yellow sheet he had drawn from the envelope. "Listen. This order is from Washington. The War Department, acting on a request from the governor of Texas, has sent me the order direct to send twenty men and one or more officers up the river on the swiftest boat at my disposal. Mr. Overton, you will command. The other young officers will go with you. You, Mr. Prescott, will take your own ten men from the Thirty-fourth, and you, Mr. Overton, will take Sergeant Raney and nine men from this regiment. All the men are here at this moment. Rush the orders!"

As soon as the two sergeants had been called and had received the orders, Captain Foster continued his instructions.

"Gentlemen, you will use the troops only to save life and restore order in Holmesville. At the earliest possible moment you will turn control over to the local police again. You may have to fire into rioting crowds, but be careful about shooting recklessly or needlessly into groups. Remember, too, that there will doubtless be many estimable Mexicans at Holmesville who will not be rioters nor in any way in sympathy with them. The rioters, you will find, will be of the worst and most lawless class of Mexicans; they will be largely composed of refugees from Mexican justice—the very riff-raff of the population."

At the conclusion of the instruction the young officers broke for the officers' tent to get their swords. As this night might see rousing hand-to-hand work with rioters the swords might have their place.

The two sergeants heading the squads were now rushing the drawing of rations and ammunition. In a very few minutes the squads had fallen in.

"Sergeant Raney," called Lieutenant Hal, "move your squad to the dock in double time."

Prescott followed this with similar orders to Sergeant Kelly.

The two captured craft and the "Restless" lay at the dock. As the troops, their officers in the lead, marched out on the pier Skipper Tom Halstead sang out:

"Stand by the engine, Joe!"

With that the young motor boat captain leaped to the dock and ran to the stern hawser, while Hank Butts stood by the bow-hawser.

"Squad halt! Break ranks! Get aboard lively," ordered Sergeant Raney. Nor did Kelly let his own squad lose any time. The young officers followed in the wake of their men.

"Want to cast off?" called Skipper Halstead pleasantly.

"Without loss of a second," replied Lieutenant Hal.

Without waiting for other orders Hank let go the bow-line and carried it aboard with him. Tom Halstead went up over the stern.

"Slow speed ahead, Joe," Hank called down as he rested one hand on the wheel. The "Restless" began to move from her pier.

"Up river, or down?" called Skipper Tom, coming forward.

"Up!" voiced Hal. "And at racing speed, too!"

"Dutchman's gait, Joe," Hank called down unconcernedly, as soon as the "Restless" had well cleared the dock, having swung the craft around, heading up the river at a speed increased to twelve miles.

"Can't you crowd a lot more speed on?" demanded Hal Overton.

"Dog chasing that Dutchman, Joe," Hank sang down, and the "Restless" was soon doing eighteen miles an hour.

"You told me your best speed was twenty-six to twenty-eight, didn't you?" asked Hal, wheeling around as Skipper Tom Halstead joined them.

"Yes, sir."

"Can you hit up that speed without endangering the engine?"

"Yes," replied Tom, "but we'll burn a lot of gasoline doing that."

"Gasoline?" uttered Prescott contemptuously. "How many pailfuls will a thousand dollars buy?"

"Is it as bad as that?" asked Skipper Tom quickly.

"American women's lives are at stake up at Holmesville!" returned Overton. "Riot going on there—Mexicans against Americans."

Hank Butts didn't wait for orders.

"Joe," he yelled, bending over the engine-room doorway, "sheriff and a bill-collector after that Dutchman!"

Joe Dawson didn't wait to be told more. He threw open everything to the widest notch, then snatched up a bulky oil can with an unusually long spout, and stood feeding oil to the bearings.

"The sweethearts of Mr. Prescott and Mr. Darrin are in great danger at Holmesville," Lieutenant Hal murmured in Skipper Tom's ear.

"Jumping Jupiter!" gasped Halstead, and went down into the engine-room in two bounds for a word with Joe.

Those standing on the deck could fairly feel the quiver with which the "Restless" leaped forward at her best speed.

"It's like riding on an express train!" glowed Lieutenant Greg Holmes.

"No express train was ever made that's fast enough for me to-night," muttered Lieutenant Dick Prescott between set teeth.

The running lights were out, for it was nearly dark when the "Restless" had left Agua Dulce. Only the movement of a switch was needed to turn them on.

"Ever been to Holmesville?" demanded Dave Darrin, turning almost fiercely on Tom Halstead when he showed his head on deck.

"No, sir."

"Wouldn't know the place by sight?"

"No, sir."

"Nor I, either—from the water front," groaned Darrin. "But surely you have some chart of the river?"

Tom Halstead was already out of sight again. When he came on deck he remarked:

"I've been looking at the chart. Now, I'll know Holmesville to a dot when we sight the place."

"Nice sort of a town some one took the trouble to name after me, isn't it?" grunted Lieutenant Holmes.

"Say! Look there!" gasped Lieutenant Noll, pointing ahead just as the craft rounded a bend of the river, and something was visible that the trees had shut out before.

A thrill of dismay went through all. Ahead the sky was angrily red at one point.

"The miscreants have fired the town!" roared Dick Prescott, in anguish. "Captain Halstead, is there no more speed to be wrung out of this boat?"

"We're going like the wind, now, Mr. Prescott," Halstead answered. "To try for any more speed would be to endanger either the engine or the propeller."

"Let this young skipper alone, Dick," whispered Holmes soothingly, in his chum's ear. "He knows his business, if ever a man did!"

As more miles were covered the red blur against the dark sky became larger and brighter. Prescott and Darrin watched it as though dazed. Once in a while their hands wandered to their weapons.

"We'll be there in ten minutes more," announced Halstead finally, after a glance at his watch.

"Thank Heaven!" devoutly muttered two young officers.

"Oh, I hope we're in time!" groaned Lieutenant Hal, turning to Noll Terry.

Three or four enlisted men were on deck. The others, after the cool indifference of their kind until the moment of action comes, were below in the cabin. But every soldier started to his feet as Raney's voice rang out:

"Ready, men, for a quick landing!"

"You'll go back out into the stream, won't you, Halstead?" Lieutenant Overton asked, as Hank directed the "Restless" in toward a dock.

"Joe Dawson will," answered Skipper Tom. "He and I have already drawn lots to see which one of us would stay on the boat."

"You're not going ashore into this hades of riot and arson, are you?"

"Where American women are in danger?" retorted Skipper Tom. "Nothing less than a file of soldiers could keep me back!"

A dozen irregular shots rang out just as Halstead and Hank leaped ashore to hold the lines.

"Tumble off there, men. Don't wait for any gang-plank!" roared Lieutenant Prescott.

Tom Halstead and Hank Butts did not attempt to throw the hawsers over posts, but tossed their lines back to the deck as soon as the last soldier was ashore. Joe Dawson, taking his place at the wheel, and with one foot against the deck control of the engine, bawled out:

"Good luck to every one of you!"

Hal Overton had swiftly formed his squad in a single rank, ordering the soldiers to fix bayonets. Prescott formed his own squad as a second platoon. As Tom Halstead hastened up he carried a stout cudgel, while Hank Butts carried the hitching weight that had made him famous.

As the little relief column moved off the dock and in at the foot of the principal street of Holmesville, the light of burning buildings showed them a highway on which hundreds of maddened human brutes were moving.

Occasionally, from one of the houses still left untouched by flames, a shot was fired. So enraged and occupied were the rioters that they did not perceive the approach of uniformed men.

"Forward, on the double quick!" ordered Lieutenant Hal, snatching his sword from the scabbard. Just ahead the rioters had turned to pour a fusillade of fifty shots into a house from which a revolver shot had been fired.

There was no sense in halting and calling on these maddened rioters to disperse. Hal saw that quickly. Some in the mob saw the soldiers in time to raise a shout, but few of the other rioters heard it.

"Ready to charge! Charge!" shouted Lieutenant Hal Overton.

The front rank of soldiers hit the edge of the mob with cold steel. That rush and impact seemed to serve only to madden the rioters, and in an instant there was wild hand-to-hand combat.



CHAPTER XXIV

CONCLUSION

Then a score of things happened all at once.

Added to the soldiers' bayonets the swords of four young officers thrust with an effect that opened a way up through the mob.

"Los soldados!" sounded a score of voices at once. On top of this came another cry in frantic Spanish: "Al muerto!" (to the death!)

One short, broad-shouldered fellow rushed at Lieutenant Hal from the flank, knife uplifted. Hank dropped his hitching weight on the fellow's toes, and the knife-thrust fell short by some three feet. Tom Halstead's cudgel floored a rascal who aimed a revolver at Hank.

The first squad went through the crowd fast, though leaving a red trail of minor sword and bayonet wounds. The second squad had a harder fight, as the enraged mob, after spreading a bit, closed in. There was still plenty of fight in the rioters, who now realized how small a military force had assailed them. Dave Darrin was using the butt of the borrowed revolver in clubbing every strange head that got within reach of his arm.

"Halt! About face and go back into 'em!" ordered Lieutenant Hal. The mob, feeling itself hemmed in between two parallel lines of bayonets, gave sufficiently to let the military party reunite.

"Where's the Eagle Hotel?" Hal shouted hoarsely, as a Texan, rifle in hand, showed himself at an open window.

"Two blocks up. You can't mistake it!" came back the roaring answer.

As the two ranks of soldiers tried to go on at the double quick, two or three hundred of the mob tried to follow at their heels.

"Second squad halt! About face!" yelled Lieutenant Prescott. "Load! Aim!"

Then he turned to his chum.

"Fire if you have to, Holmesy. I've got to leave you and run forward!"

Lieutenant Greg Holmes nodded his understanding. Then he stood there, grim-faced and watchful, mindful, also, of his orders not to fire on rioters unless it became absolutely necessary.

But the sight of ten Army rifles staring them in the face caused the mob to halt for a moment or two, whereupon Holmes faced his men about, continuing the march. Twice more he found it necessary to halt and menace the enraged followers.

Ahead was another mob not much smaller. These men were in front of the Eagle Hotel as the first squad ran up.

"Charge!" yelled Lieutenant Hal. "Charge!" echoed Greg Holmes. There was another sharp, ugly clash. Bayonets prodded, swords thrust, Tom Halstead wielded his club and Hank was busy with his weight.

Dave, Dick and Noll, as soon as they could reach the hotel, dashed away from the troops toward the front entrance of the hotel, which stood open, battered down as it had been by the mob.

As these three rescuers darted into the lobby, a woman's scream sounded from a room not far away. Into this dashed the three young officers. Just before they vanished Tom Halstead and Hank Butts rushed in, catching sight of their friends.

In the billiard room of the hotel stood Mrs. Bentley, leaning against a wall and looking ready to faint. Laura Bentley, far more beautiful than when we saw her last, had caught up a chair, with which she was threatening a dark-haired young Mexican who sought to reach her. Belle Meade, her dark beauty unmarred by the look of anger in her face, had snatched up a cue, with which she was menacing another young Mexican dandy. Four or five other Mexicans stood in the room, interested spectators.

"A reminder for you, my friend!" muttered Dick Prescott hoarsely, as he ran his sword-point into the thigh of the man before Laura.

"May this give your mind ease!" gritted Ensign Darrin, bringing down the butt of the revolver on the head of the Mexican facing Belle.

Then the other Mexicans in the room attempted to take a hand, but they were soon put to flight. One of them limped, or rather hopped—for he had encountered Hank Butts. Tom and Hank helped the injured out in a hurry.

Mrs. Bentley revived at sight of the uniforms, and still more at sight of the well-known faces of two of the officers. As for Laura, she threw her arms about Dick Prescott's neck, embracing him ecstatically, too overjoyed at first to speak. Not so with Belle Meade. She, too, gave her intended husband an enthusiastic embrace, but she murmured in his ear:

"Sorry we couldn't give a better account of ourselves, Dave. But the scoundrels came in here in a drove. They've killed at least two men who tried to defend us."

"If they try to start anything more, Belle, girl, they'll all get killed."

Lieutenant Dick Prescott, a mist swimming before his eyes, could only murmur:

"Laura, you need have no further fears. There are squads from two regiments of regulars on the spot."

Presently Dick and Dave were left behind at the hotel with five soldiers of the Thirty-fourth. Lieutenant Hal led the remainder of the troops through the streets. The comparatively few Texans of the village, who had been greatly outnumbered, and driven to fighting behind cover, now appeared in the wake of the troops. Wherever bands of rioters were found they were herded and driven out of the town. It required all the firmness and tact of Lieutenant Hal to keep the justly enraged Texans from piling up a big slaughter.

Before the arrival of troops some twenty Mexican rioters had been killed, and many more wounded. Six of the Texans of the village had also been killed, including the two—the hotel proprietor and one other—who had gone to the defense of Mrs. Bentley and the girls. A score of rioters who had met Hank Butts were limping now.

Thirty houses of the village, some of them belonging to Mexicans, had been fired. As they were not attached to other buildings these fires were allowed to burn out.

At daylight a company of Texas militia marched into town, having arrived from a distant point.

The rioters belonged to a peculiar class from the sister republic. Many were criminals, wanted in their own country, who had found safety across our border. Many more had been of the class who would have been camp followers of the insurgent army, had that especial revolution gained the dignity of being backed by a rebel army.

For three weeks more the border patrol was continued. Then, as the revolutionists over in Mexico had been soundly thrashed by the responsible federal government of Mexico, the border patrol by our own American troops was no longer needed.

As early as possible Laura Bentley, Belle Meade and Laura's mother were escorted to the railway, and sent forward to Fort Clowdry, there to wait as Mrs. Cortland's guests until Prescott could return from Texas. Dave Darrin, of course, went along with the ladies.

Ruggles, who had once been worth some three million dollars, mostly invested in Mexico, never dared press his absurd charge against Lieutenant Hal Overton. As a result of the revolution, and his known part in it, Ruggles had much of his Mexican property confiscated under the laws of that country. The rest of his estate dwindled sadly for want of his care, for Ruggles, owing to his orders to fire on United States troops, was sent to a federal prison for ten years.

Guarez, Boggs and a few others were given prison sentences of two or three years each.

Of the two boats captured, Boggs's tug was released on payment of a fine. Ruggles's motor boat, however, was condemned and sold at auction. Ruggles's daughter, Meta, his sole near relative, is now living on the remnant saved out of her father's fortune. She is a good girl, and is waiting to aid her parent to begin life over again when he is freed.

Tom Halstead and his boatmates, as soon as released from the government contract, departed in search of further adventures. That they found them is known to readers of the volumes in the "MOTOR BOAT CLUB SERIES."

* * * * *

A month after the affair at Holmesville there was as picturesque a double service wedding as it was possible to have at Fort Clowdry.

The Thirty-fourth's band furnished the music. The post chapel was the scene of the solemn affair. All the parents of the contracting parties came on from Gridley.

The chapel was ablaze with all the pomp and glory of the dress uniforms of the Army and the Navy, for a few of Dave's brother officers contrived to be present.

Greg Holmes was, of course, Prescott's best man; Ensign Dan Dalzell performed that service for Ensign Dave Darrin.

Nor were Lieutenants Hal and Noll absent, for they secured leave to attend. The ushers at the wedding were four young naval officers, with Hal, Noll, Algy Ferrers and another young lieutenant representing the Army.

Behind the double bridal party, as the post chaplain and an assistant began the solemn, beautiful service of the church, stood the ushers, a double wall of steel, as it struck some of the onlookers—a wall of Army and Navy steel guaranteeing the future of the two young couples and pledging them happiness.

Lieutenants Hal Overton and Noll Terry were now firmly established in their new careers as line officers of the United States Army. At the next session of Congress the Senate ratified their nominations as a matter of course, and the two young officers soon after received their commissions as second lieutenants from the President.

Though of course it was far beyond the reach of their present vision, a deep shadow was hanging over the world—the shadow of a great war to come, the greatest and most savage war in the history of the world. In that coming war with the German Empire, each of these splendid young officers was destined to play a big part, a part that was certain to bring honors to each, as well as the appreciation of a grateful country.

The story of their participation and of their thrilling experiences in this great world war, will be told in a following volume, entitled "UNCLE SAM'S BOYS WITH PERSHING'S TROOPS AT THE FRONT; Or Dick Prescott at Grips With the Boche."

THE END.



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