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

“Unless these people in the city belong to the party we’ve come here to protect,” Frank suggested. “It may be that, you know. The revolutionists may have jumped out for the time being.”

“Yes, that’s so. Well, it’s a queer go however it is. Say, I wonder if we couldn’t go out and take a look at those holes the projectiles made?”

“I guess so. We’d better find out how far it is, though, and if we’ll have time to go and get back.”

But when Frank spoke to the commanding officer the latter shook his head.

“It’s too far out there to begin with,” he said, “and for another thing – ” he paused and looked around as though to make sure no one else was listening. “For another thing,” he added, “we’d rather none of our men went out there – just now.”

“Why?” impulsively asked Ned.

Again the officer looked around.

“Well,” he said, “I don’t mind telling you, because I can see that you are a little different from the general run of our recruits. Not that they’re not fine fellows, and all that,” he hastened to say, “but some of them have been handicapped in life, and they haven’t as much natural intelligence as they might have. But I don’t in the least hold that against them. They may be all the better fighters when it comes to a brush.”

“Do you think we’ll have a fight?” asked Ned, and his voice was eager.

“Well, it’s hard to say,” replied the officer. He and the two boys of the battleship were off by themselves, on a quiet street leading up from the water front. For the time being none of the other men who had shore leave were around. “There is a peculiar situation here,” he said to Frank and Ned. “The captain has given orders that we must be very careful, and not go out to the place where we blew the tops off the hills, or, rather, where you did,” and he nodded at Frank.

“Why is that?” asked Ned, again displaying his impulsiveness.

“I can’t tell you,” was the smiling answer. “But you may learn in a few days.”

Frank and Ned knew better than to argue the point. They had a feeling that something momentous might occur at any time, and they wanted to be ready for it.

Deprived thus of permission to go out to the hills where the big guns had wrought the damage, they strolled about the town, looking with interest on the sights they saw.

They stopped for chocolate in a quaint little place, and bought some souvenirs to send to their uncle, thinking thus to cheer him in his loneliness.

But with all their looking about they saw nothing of any of the business enterprises in which Mr. Arden had told them their money, as well as his own, was invested. Later they learned that the mines, and the places where the natural products of the country came from, were some distance out in the little republic.

“What strikes me as queer,” said Ned, as they walked back toward the boat landing, for their time was nearly up, “what strikes me as queer is that every one we’ve seen – that is, the natives, if you can call them such – seem to be expecting something.”

“You mean something to happen?” asked Frank.

“Yes. They keep looking off there to the hills where you blew the top off, and talking to themselves in their queer lingo.”

“It isn’t such a queer lingo,” said Frank. “It’s Portuguese, and that language is very like Spanish.”

“Well, I never did like Spanish. But what do you guess is going on?”

“Give it up, unless there’s going to be a fight between the revolutionists and the regulars.”

“I wonder if we’ll be in on it.”

“Say, are you looking for trouble?” asked Frank, with a laugh.

“No, but if it’s coming our way, I’m not going to dodge it very hard,” Ned answered, grimly.

The two battleship boys strolled about the town a little longer, and then made their way to the boat landing, for it was nearly time to start back for the Georgetown.

“This looks like an American quarter,” said Frank, as they passed a place where several signs, in distinctly American names, were to be seen.

“It is,” said a petty officer, who was walking along with them. “And if there’s any trouble going to happen it will happen right here, in this quarter.”

“What do you mean?” asked Frank, quickly.

“Oh, nothing,” was the evasive answer. It was evident that the petty officer had said more than he intended to. “It’s just as well to know,” he went on, “where the American quarter of any foreign city is located. There’s no telling when one may need the information.”

Something in the officer’s words and manner impressed Frank. Dropping a little to the rear he whispered to his brother:

“Ned, open your eyes and take a good look around this place.”

“What for?”

“So you’ll know it again. I have an idea we’ll need to know it. Maybe we’ll have a scrap in it sooner than we expect.”

“A scrap? You mean a fight?”

“That’s just what I mean. There’s trouble brewing, and it isn’t far off!”

Ned did as his brother advised, and made a mental map of the streets of what might be designated the “American quarter” of Pectelo. It was not large, and was only a short distance from the water front.

A large number of the citizens of the South American city gathered to witness the departure of the blue-jackets for their battleship. And here again, in spite of the fact that some of the inhabitants cheered while others scowled, Ned and Frank could not help noticing that there was that same curious air of expectancy – as if something was about to happen.

But there was nothing out of the usual as the sailors took to the cutters and began steaming back to the Georgetown. They had had their shore leave and felt all the better for it.

Frank noticed that all the officers reported to the captain as soon as they got on board, and he wondered if that had anything to do with the expected happening.

Again that night, after hammocks had been slung, and the men had enjoyed their period of rest, were double sentries posted. It fell to the lot of Frank to have an important station on the side of the battleship nearest shore where he could plainly see the flickering lights.

It was nearly midnight when, as he patrolled his post up and down the deck, he saw on shore a series of lights suddenly flash into view. At first he paid no attention to them, thinking they indicated some celebration near the beach. But as they continued to flash he took more notice of them.

“It looks like a signal,” he said; “a signal to us. I wonder if there can be any trouble? I’d better notify the officer of the watch.”

It took but a moment to do this.

No sooner had the officer seen the flashing lights than he exclaimed:

“Arden, I’m glad you called me. I wasn’t expecting that signal so early. The revolutionists must be at it.”

“You mean – ” began Frank.

“That’s a signal call, telling us that the revolutionists are again rioting against the United States citizens in the town,” said the officer. “We’ll have to land a party to protect them without delay.”

“Then there’ll be something doing all right!” exclaimed Frank.

“I should think there would be!” was the grim answer.