Dave Darrin at Vera Cruz
by
H. Irving Hancock
Part 1 out of 4
E-text prepared by Jim Ludwig
DAVE DARRIN AT VERA CRUZ
Fighting with the U.S. Navy in Mexico
by
H. IRVING HANCOCK
CONTENTS
CHAPTERS
I. Ready for Fight or Frolic
II. At the Mercy of a Bully
III. The Junior Worm Turns
IV. The Ward-Room Hears Real News
V. Watching and Waiting--Behind the Guns
VI. First to Invade Mexico
VII. Dave Darrin to the Rescue
VIII. Disobedience of Orders
IX. Cantor Finds His Chance
X. Dave is Stung to the Quick
XI. A Brother Officer's Whisper
XII. The Man of the Evil Eye
XIII. "After the Rascal!"
XIV. A "Find" of a Bad Kind
XV. Ready for Vera Cruz
XVI. In the Thick of the Snipping
XVII. Mexicans Become Suddenly Meek
XVIII. In the House of Surprises
XIX. A Traitor in the Service
XX. The Skirmish at the Diligencia
XXI. A Rescue and a "Facer"
XXII. Playing Birdman in War
XXIII. The Dash for the Traitor
XXIV. Conclusion
CHAPTER I
READY FOR FIGHT OR FROLIC
"Do you care to go out this evening, Danny boy?" asked Dave Darrin,
stepping into his chum's room.
"I'm too excited and too tired," confessed Ensign Dalzell. "The
first thing I want is a hot bath, the second, pajamas, and the
third, a long sleep."
"Too bad," sighed Dave. "I wanted an hour's stroll along Broadway."
"Don't let my indolence keep you in," urged Dalzell. "If you're
going out, then I can have the first hot bath, and be as long
about it as I please. Then I'll get into pajamas and ready for
bed. By that time you'll be in and we can say `good night' to
each other."
"I feel a bit mean about quitting you," Dave murmured.
"And I feel a whole lot meaner not to go out with you," Dan promptly
assured his chum. "So let's compromise; you go out and I'll stay in."
"That sounds like a very odd compromise," laughed Darrin. "On
the whole, Dan, I believe I won't go out."
"If that's the way you feel," argued Dalzell, "then I'm going
to change my mind and go out with you. I won't be the means of
keeping you from your stroll."
"But you really don't want to go out," Dave objected.
"Candidly, I don't care much about going out; I want that bath
and I'm tired. Yet in the good old cause of friendship---"
"Friendship doesn't enter in, here," Dave interposed. "Danny
boy, you stay here in the hotel and have your bath, I'll go out
and pay my very slight respects to Broadway. Doubtless, by the
time you're in pajamas, I'll be back, and with all my longing
for wandering satisfied."
"Then, if you really don't mind---"
"Not at all, old chap! So long! Back in a little while."
Through the bathroom that connected their two rooms at the Allsordia
Hotel, Dave Darrin stepped into his own apartment.
Having donned coat and top-coat, Darrin picked up his new derby
hat and stepped to his room door. In another half minute he was
going down on the elevator. Then he stepped into the street.
Dave Darrin was young, healthy, happy, reasonably good-looking.
His top-coat and gray suit were well tailored. Yet, save for
his erect, military carriage, there was nothing to distinguish
him from the thousands of average well-dressed young men who thronged
Broadway after dark on this evening in late March.
For perhaps fifteen blocks he strolled uptown. All that he saw
on that gaily lighted main thoroughfare of New York was interesting.
It was the same old evening crowd, on pleasure bent.
Then, crossing over to the east side of Broadway, Dave sauntered
slowly back.
Laughing girls eyed the young naval officer as he passed. Drivers
of taxicabs looked the young man over speculatively, as though
wondering whether he might be inveigled into going on a, to them,
profitable round of New York's night sights. Human harpies, in
the form of "confidence men"---swindlers on the lookout for
prey---glanced but once at the young naval ensign, then looked away.
Dave Darrin's erect carriage, his clear steady eyes, his broad
shoulders and evident physical mastery of himself made these
swindlers hesitate at the thought of tackling him.
Through the occasionally opened doors of the restaurants came
the sounds of music and laughter, but Dave felt no desire to enter.
He was several blocks on his homeward way, and was passing the
corner of a side street quieter than the others, when he heard
a woman's stifled cry of alarm.
Halting, bringing his heels together with a click, and throwing
his shoulders back, Darrin stopped on the corner and looked down
the street.
Five or six doors away, close to a building, stood a young woman
of not more than twenty-two. Though she was strikingly pretty,
Dave did not note that fact in the first glance. He saw, however,
that she was well dressed in the latest spring garments, and that
her pose was one of retreat from the man who stood before her.
That the man had the external appearance of the gentleman was the \
first fact Darrin observed.
Then he heard the young woman's indignant utterance:
"You coward!"
"That is a taunt not often thrown at me," the young man laughed,
carelessly.
"Only a coward would attempt to win a woman's love by threats,"
replied the girl, more calmly, though bitterness rang in her tone.
"As for you, I wish to assure you that I am quite through with you!"
"Oh, no, you're not!" rejoined the annoyer, with the air of one
who knows himself to be victor. "In fact, you will do very much
as I wish, or your brother---"
"You coward!" spoke the girl, scornfully again.
"If your brother suffers, your pride will be in the dust," insisted
the annoyer, "and, remember, I, alone, can save your brother from
disgrace."
"I am not even going to ask you to do it," retorted the young
woman. "And now our interview is over. I am going to leave you,
and I shall not see you again. I-----"
"Going to leave me, are you?" leered her tormentor. He stepped
forward, holding out his hand, as though to seize the young woman's
wrist, but she alertly eluded him.
"If you try again to touch me, or if you attempt to follow me,"
warned the young woman, "I shall appeal for assistance."
So absorbed were the disputants in their quarrel that neither had
noticed Darrin, standing on the corner.
The tormentor's face flushed, then went white, "Make your appeal,"
he dared, "and see what happens!"
Again he attempted to take the girl by the wrist.
"Can I be of service, madam?" inquired Darrin, as he strode toward
them.
Like a flash, the annoyer wheeled upon Darrin, his eyes flashing
dangerously.
"Young man," he warned, threateningly, "the best thing you can
possibly do will be to make yourself scarce as quickly as possible.
As for this young woman-----"
The tormentor moved a step nearer to the young woman, whose face
had turned very pale.
Dave slipped quietly between them.
"As this young woman does not wish to talk with you," Darrin suggested,
"you may address all your remarks to me."
While the two young men stood eyeing each other Darrin noted that
the young woman's annoyer was somewhat taller than himself, broader
of shoulder and deeper of chest. He had the same confidence of
athletic poise that Dave himself displayed. In a resort to force,
it looked as though the stranger would have the better of it.
Yet this stranger seemed suddenly deprived of much of his assurance.
Plainly, there was some good reason why he did not wish to fight on
this side street so close to Broadway.
"Madam," inquired Darrin, half turning, "may I have the pleasure
of escorting you to your friends?"
"If you will call a taxi-----" she began, eagerly.
At that moment a fareless taxicab turned the corner of Broadway
and came slowly down the street.
"Hold on, chauffeur!" cried Darrin, in a voice of command. Then,
as the cab stopped at the curb, Dave turned his back upon the
tormentor for a moment, while he assisted the young woman into
the taxicab.
"Do you feel satisfied to go without escort," asked Darrin, "or
may I offer my services in seeing you safely to your home?"
"I shall be all right now," replied the young woman, the troubled
look in her lustrous brown eyes vanishing as she favored her unknown
defender with a smile. "If the driver will stop, two blocks from
here, I will direct him where to take me."
"Step aside, boy!" ordered the unknown man, as he tried to brush
Dave away and enter the cab.
It was no time for gentle measures. Ensign Darrin's right fist
landed heavily on the face of the stranger, sending him prone to
the sidewalk.
At a wave of Dave's hand the chauffeur started away. Scenting
trouble, the chauffeur drove as fast as he could down the side
street, making the round of the block, then heading into Broadway
and going uptown, for the young woman had called out her destination.
As for the stranger whom Dave had knocked down, the fellow was
on his feet like a flash. Ignoring Darrin, he tried to dash down
the side street after the taxicab.
"Step back!" ordered Dave, catching hold of the fellow, and swinging
him around. "You're not going to follow."
"I must have the number of that taxicab," cried the stranger,
desperately.
"Too late," smiled Dave, as he saw the taxicab turn the next corner.
"You won't learn the number. I happened to see it, though," he
added incautiously.
"Give it to me, then," commanded the other. "I'll overlook what
you've done if you truthfully give me the number of that taxicab.
Find that girl I must, and as early as possible. Though I know
her well, and her family, too, I do not know where to look for
them in New York."
Dave, without a word, turned as though to walk toward Broadway.
"Give me that taxi's number," insisted the stranger.
"I won't," Dave returned, flatly.
"Give me that number, or-----"
"Or what?" drawled Darrin halting and glancing contemptuously
at the furious face before him.
"Or I'll pound the number out of you!" came the ugly challenge.
"Go ahead," Dave invited, coolly. "I don't mind a fight in the
least, though perhaps you would, for I see a policeman coming
up the street. He would be bound to arrest both of us. Perhaps
you have better reasons than I have for not courting the activities
of the police."
It was plain that a fearful, even though brief struggle, took
place in the stranger's mind before he made reply to Dave's taunt.
"I'll find you again, and the next time you shall not get off
so easily," muttered the other. "Depend upon it, I shall see
you again!"
With that the stranger walked toward Broadway. Smiling, Dave
strolled more slowly after him. By the time the naval ensign
reached the corner of that great artery of human life, the stranger
had lost himself in the crowds of people that thronged Broadway.
"If I see him again within twenty-four hours, I think I shall
know him," laughed Darrin. "My first blow put a red welt on his
cheek for purposes of identification."
Then Darrin finished his walk, turning in at the Allsordia.
Dan Dalzell had also finished his bath, and lounging comfortably
in his pajamas, was reading a late edition of the evening newspaper.
"Have any fun?" asked Ensign Dalzell, glancing up.
"Just a little bit of a frolic," smiled Darrin, and told his chum
what had happened.
"I'm glad you punched the scoundrel," flared Danny Grin.
"I couldn't do anything else," Dave answered soberly, "and if
it weren't for the shame of treating a woman in such high-handed
fashion as that fellow did, I'd look upon the whole affair as
a pleasant diversion."
"So he's going to look for you and find you, then settle up this
night's business with you, is he?" demanded Dalzell, with one
of the grins that had made him famous. "Humph! If he finds you
after ten o`clock to-morrow morning, it will be aboard one of
our biggest battleships and among fifteen hundred fighting men."
"I'm afraid I shall never see him again," sighed Dave. "It's
too bad, too, for I'm not satisfied with the one blow that I had
the pleasure of giving him. I'd like to meet the fellow in a
place where I could express and fully back up my opinion of him."
"I wonder if you'll ever meet him again?" mused Dalzell, aloud.
"It's not worth wondering about," Dave returned. "I must get
into my bath now. I'll be out soon."
Fifteen minutes later Darrin looked into the room, saying good
night to his chum. Then he retired to his own sleeping room; five
minutes later he was sound asleep.
No strangers to our readers are Dave Darrin and Dan Dalzell "Darry"
and "Danny Grin," as they were known to many of their friends.
As members of that famous schoolboy group known as Dick & Co.
they were first encountered in the pages of the _"Grammar School
Boys Series."_ All our readers are familiar with the careers in
sport and adventure that were achieved by those splendid Gridley
boys, Dick Prescott, Dave Darrin, Greg Holmes, Dan Dalzell, Tom
Reade and Harry Hazelton. The same boys, a little older and twice
as daring, were again found in the pages of the _"High School Boys
Series,"_ and then immediately afterward in the _"High School Boys'
Vacation Series."_
It was in the _"Dick Prescott Christmas Series"_ that we found all
six of our fine, manly young friends in the full flower of high
school boyhood. A few months after that the six were separated.
The further fortunes of Dick Prescott and Greg Holmes are then
found in the _"West Point Series,"_ while the careers of Darrin
and Dalzell are set forth in the _"Annapolis Series,"_ just as the
adventures of Reade and Hazelton are set forth in the _"Young Engineers
Series."_
At Annapolis, Darrin and Dalzell went through stirring times,
indeed, as young midshipmen. Now, we again come upon them when
they have become commissioned officers in the Navy. They are
now seen at the outset of their careers as ensigns, ordered to
duty aboard the dreadnought "_Long Island_" in the latter part
of March, 1914.
Certainly the times were favorable for them to see much of active
naval service, though as yet they could hardly more than guess
the fact.
General Huerta, who had usurped the presidency of Mexico following
the death---as suspected, by assassination---of the former president
Madero---had not been recognized as president by the United States.
Some of Madero's friends and former followers, styling themselves
the "Constitutionalists" had taken to the field in rebellion against
the proclaimed authority of the dictator, Huerta. The two factions
had long fought fiercely, and between the two warring parties that
had rapidly reduced life in Mexico, to a state of anarchy, scores
of Americans had been executed through spite, as it was alleged,
and American women and children had also suffered at the hands of
both factions.
Lives and property of citizens of European governments had been
sacrificed, and now these European governments looked askance
at the Washington government, which was expected to safeguard
the rights of foreigners in Mexico.
To the disappointment and even the resentment of a large part
of the people of the United States, the Washington government
had moved slowly, expressing its hope that right would triumph
in Mexico without outside armed interference.
This policy of the national administration had become known as
watchful waiting. Many approved of it; other Americans demanded
a policy of active intervention in Mexico to end the uncertainty
and the misery caused by the helpless of many nations, who were
ground between the opposing factions of revolution in Mexico.
With this brief explanation we will once more turn to the fortunes
of Ensigns Dave and Dan.
At 6.45 the next morning the telephone bell began to tinkle in
Dave's room. It continued to ring until Darrin rose, took down
the receiver, and expressed, to the clerk, on duty below, his
thanks for having been called.
"Turn out, Danny Grin!" Darry shouted from the bathroom. "Come,
now, sir! Show a foot! Show a foot, sir!"
Drowsily, Dalzell thrust one bare foot out from under the sheet.
"Are you awake in sea-going order, sir?" Dave asked, jovially.
"Aye, aye, sir."
"Then remain awake, Mr. Dalzell, until I have been through the
motions of a cold bath."
With that Darrin shut the door. From the bathroom came the sounds
of a shower, followed by much splashing.
"Turn out the port watch, Mr. Dalzell," came, presently, through
the closed bathroom door. "The bathroom watch is yours. Hose
down, sir."
With that Dave stepped into his own room to dress. It was not
long before the two young naval officers left their rooms, each
carrying a suit case. To the top of each case was strapped a
sword, emblem of officer's rank, and encased in chamois-skin.
Going below, the pair breakfasted, glancing, in the meantime,
over morning newspapers.
Just before nine-thirty that same morning, our young naval officers,
bent on joining their ship, stepped along briskly through the
Brooklyn Navy Yard.
It was really an inspiring place. Sailors, marines and officers,
too, were in evidence.
In the machine shops and about the docks thousands of men were
performing what once would have passed for the work of giants.
Huge pieces of steel were being shaped; heavy drays carried these
pieces of steel; monster cranes hoisted them aboard ships lying
at the docks or standing shored up in the dry docks. There was
noise in the air; the spirit of work and accomplishment pervaded
the place, for word had come from Washington that many ships might
soon be needed in Mexican waters.
Eight dreadnoughts lay at their berths. Even as the boys crossed
the great yard a cruiser was being warped in, after an eighteen-thousand
mile voyage.
Alongside floating stages in the basins lay submarines and torpedo
boat destroyers. A naval collier was being coaled. A Navy launch
was in sight and coming closer, bearing a draft of marines bound
for duty on one of the battleships.
Every sight spoke proudly of the naval might of a great nation,
yet that might was not at all in proportion with the naval needs
of such a vast country.
"It does an American good, just to be in a place like this, doesn't
it?" asked Danny Grin.
"It does, indeed," Dave answered. Then, his bewilderment increasing,
he turned to a marine who stood at a distance of some sixty feet
from where he had halted.
"My man!" Dave called.
Instantly the marine wheeled about. Noting the suit cases, with
the swords strapped to them, the marine recognized these young
men in civilian attire as naval officers. Promptly his hand sought
his cap visor in clean-cut salute, which both young ensigns as
promptly returned.
"Be good enough to direct me to the `_Long Island_,'" Darrin requested.
"Yes, sir," and the marine, stepping closer, led the way past three
large buildings.
"There she is, over there, sir," said the marine, a minute later,
pointing. "Shall I carry your suit cases, sir, to the deck?"
"It won't be necessary, thank you," Darrin replied.
"Very good, sir," and again the marine saluted. Returning the
salute, the two young officers hurried forward. As they strode
along, their eyes feasting on the strong, proud lines of the dreadnought
on which they were to serve, their staunch young hearts swelled
with pride. And there, over the battleship's stern, floated the
Flag, which they had taken most solemn oath to defend with their
lives and with their honor, whether at home, or on the other side
of the world.
In both breasts stirred the same emotions of love of country.
Just then neither felt like speaking. They hastened on in silence.
Up the gang-plank they strode. At a word from the officer on
deck, two young sailors, serving as messengers, darted down the
plank, saluting, then relieving the young officers of their suit
cases.
Up the gang-plank, and aboard, walked the young ensigns. First
the eyes of Ensigns Darrin and Dalzell sought the Flag. Bringing
their heels together, standing erect, they faced the Stars and
Stripes, flying at the stern, bringing their hands up smartly
in salute. The officer of the deck returned to the youngsters
the salute on behalf of the Flag.
Then Darrin and Dalzell approached the officer of the deck.
"I am Ensign Darrin, and I report having come aboard, sir," said
Dave. Dan reported his own arrival in similar terms.
"My name is Trent," replied the officer of the deck, as he extended
his right hand to each, in turn. "I hope you will like all of us;
I know we shall like you."
Then to the messengers Lieutenant Trent gave the order to carry
the suit cases to the rooms assigned to the two new ensigns.
Dave and Dan followed the messengers through a corridor that led
past the ward-room. The messengers halted before the curtained
doorways of adjoining rooms, bags in left hands, their right hands
up in salute.
"This is your room, sir," announced the messenger, in the precise
tones of the service, while Dan's messenger indicated the other room.
"Some kind fate must have given us adjoining rooms," laughed Dave,
when he realized that the two doors stood side by side.
As Darrin passed into his new quarters his first glance rested
lovingly on the breech of a huge gun that pierced the armored side
of the dreadnought.
"That's great!" thought the young ensign, jubilantly. "I shall
have an emblem and a constant reminder of my duty to the United
States!"
His second glance took in the polished top of a desk, over which
hung an electric light.
There is no door to an officer's room; instead, a curtain hangs
in place, screening the room from outside view. At one side,
in the cabin, was another curtain, this screening the alcove in
which lay the berth.
But Darrin did not stop to study his new quarters just then.
There was a duty first to be performed. Opening his suit case,
he took out the trousers and blouse of the blue undress uniform.
Into this he changed as rapidly as he could, after which he brushed
his hair before the little mirror, then put on his cap.
Next he fastened on his sword belt, after which he hung his sword
at his side. An anxious head-to-foot glance followed, and Ensign
Darrin found himself spick and span.
Now he stepped to Dan's door, calling in:
"May I come in, old fellow?"
"I'll be in a strange state of mind if you don't," Danny Grin
answered.
Ensign Dalzell was putting the finishing touches to his own rapid
toilet.
"I'm going to help myself to your card case," announced Dave,
who already held a card of his own. Adding Dan's to that, Ensign
Darrin stepped to the doorway, glancing quickly about him.
"Sentry!" Dave called.
"Sir!" answered a marine, stepping forward and giving the customary
salute.
"Pass the word for a messenger, sentry!"
"Aye, aye, sir."
In a twinkling the messenger arrived, saluting.
"Take these cards to the captain, with the respectful compliments
of Ensigns Darrin and Dalzell, and state that they await his
permission to report to him."
"Aye, aye, sir."
In less than a minute the messenger returned, stating that the
captain would receive them at once.
Captain Gales, a heavily-built, stately-looking man of fifty,
rose from his desk in his office as the two young ensigns stepped
through the door. The young men saluted their commander, then
stood rigidly at attention.
"Mr. Darrin?" asked the captain, extending his hand, which Dave
promptly clasped. Then Dan was greeted.
"Glad to have you with us," was all the captain said. Then, to
the marine orderly who stood just within the door: "Show these
gentlemen to the executive officer."
"He didn't ask after our folks, nor even if we liked the looks
of the ship," Dalzell complained, in a whisper, as they followed
the orderly.
"Be silent, Danny Grin!" urged Darrin, rebukingly. "This is no
time for jesting."
Commander Bainbridge, the executive officer, received the young
officers in his quarters. He proved to be more communicative,
talking pleasantly with them for fully a minute and a half after
the young men had introduced themselves, and had turned over to
him the official papers connecting them with this dreadnought's
personnel.
"Let me see, Mr. Dalzell," said Lieutenant Commander Bainbridge,
referring to a record book on his desk, "you will be in Lieutenant
Trent's division. Find Mr. Trent on the quarter deck and report
to him. Mr. Darrin, you are assigned to Lieutenant Cantor's division.
I will have an orderly show you to Mr. Cantor."
Dan departed first, walking very erect and feeling unusually elated,
for Dalzell had thoroughly liked the appearance of Trent in their
brief meeting, and believed that he would be wholly contented in
serving under that superior.
While Dave's quarters were on the port side of the ship, Cantor's
proved to be on the right side.
The messenger halted before a curtained doorway, rapping.
"Who's there?" called a voice inside.
"Messenger, sir, showing Ensign Darrin to Lieutenant Cantor, sir."
"Then you may go, messenger. Darrin, wait just an instant won't you,
until I finish my toilet."
"Very good, sir."
A moment later the hail came from within.
"Right inside, Darrin!"
Dave entered, to find a somewhat older officer standing with
extended hand. But Ensign Darrin could not believe his eyes
when he found himself faced by the man who had annoyed the young
woman on the night before---and that annoyer standing there erect
and handsome in the uniform of a Navy lieutenant!
CHAPTER II
AT THE MERCY OF A BULLY
Their hands met, but in light clasp, without pretense of warmth.
Then Darrin fell back, bringing his right hand mechanically to
a salute as he mumbled:
"I am Ensign Darrin, sir, and have been ordered, by the executive
officer, to report to you for duty in your division."
"Very good, Mr. Darrin," rejoined the lieutenant. "My division
goes on watch at eight bells noon. You will report to me on the
quarter deck at that time."
"Very good, sir."
With a quick step Lieutenant Cantor reached the curtain, holding
it slightly aside and peering out into the passage-way. His face
was red, but there was one portion that was redder still.
"I see," Dave reflected, "that Cantor still wears the welt that
I printed on his cheek last night. But it staggers me," he thought,
gravely, "to find such a fellow holding an officer's commission
in the Navy."
Satisfied that there were no eavesdroppers near, Lieutenant Cantor
stepped back, facing the young ensign, whom he looked over with
an expression of mingled hate and distress.
"I believe we have met before," said Cantor, with a quick, hissing
indrawing of his breath.
"To my very great regret, we have, sir," Darrin answered, coldly.
"Last night!"
"Yes, sir."
"And you behaved abominably, Darrin!"
"Indeed, sir?"
"You interfered," Lieutenant Cantor continued, "with one of the
most important affairs of my life."
"Yes, sir? With one of the most shameful, I should imagine, sir."
Ensign Darrin's tone was officially respectful, but his glance
cold. He felt no respect for Cantor, and could see no reason
why he should pretend respect.
"I had a strong belief that I should see you again," Cantor continued,
his gleaming eyes turned on the new ensign.
"You knew me to be of the Navy, sir?"
"I did not, Darrin, nor did you know me to be of the Navy. Otherwise,
it is not likely that you would have behaved as you did."
"If I had known you to be the fleet admiral, Mr. Cantor, my conduct
could not have been different, under the circumstances."
"Darrin, you are a fool!" hissed the division officer.
"I am much obliged to you, sir, for your good opinion," Dave answered,
in an even voice.
For an instant the lieutenant frowned deeply. Then his face cleared.
His glance became almost friendly as he continued:
"Darrin, I think it probable that you will have a chance to repair
your bad work of last night."
"Sir?"
"Last night you told me that you had noted the number of the taxicab
in which the young woman escaped me."
"I did, sir."
"Perhaps you still remember that number. Indeed, I am sure that
you must."
"I do remember the number, sir."
"What was it?" asked Cantor, eagerly.
"That number, sir, so far as I am concerned," Ensign Darrin answered,
tranquilly, "is a woman's secret."
"It is a secret which I have a right to know," Lieutenant Cantor
went on pressingly.
"The number, sir, I would not dream of giving you without the
permission of the young woman herself," Darrin answered, slowly.
"As I do not even know her name, it is unlikely that I shall
be able to secure that permission."
"Darrin, it is my right to receive an answer to my question,"
insisted Cantor, his eyes glittering coldly.
"You will have to find out from some one other than myself, then,"
was Dave's calm answer.
"Darrin, you force me to tell you more than I really ought to
tell. I am going to marry that young woman!"
"Is the young woman aware of your intentions, sir?" Dave demanded,
quietly.
"Yes! Darrin, I tell you, I am going to marry that young woman,
and it is most imperative that I should see her as early as possible.
Give me the number of that taxicab, and I can find the driver
and learn where he took her. Now, what are you smiling at, Darrin?"
"It struck me, sir, that you should already know the address of
a young woman whom you are engaged to marry."
Lieutenant Cantor repressed an exclamation of impatience and bit
his lips.
"Of course I know her home address," he deigned to reply, "but
she is not a New Yorker. Her home is at a considerable distance,
and I do not know where to find her in New York. Give me that
taxicab number and I shall be able to secure shore leave. By
this evening I shall have found her."
"You do not expect me to wish you luck in a matter like this,
sir?" Ensign Darrin inquired.
"I expect you to give me the number of that taxicab, and at once,"
replied Cantor. He did not raise his voice, but there was
compelling fury in his tone.
"I have already declined to do that, sir," Dave insisted.
"Darrin, do you realize that I am your superior?" demanded the
lieutenant.
"I am aware, sir, that you are my superior officer," Darrin answered,
with strong emphasis on the word "officer."
"And you refuse to please me in a trifling matter?"
"Pardon me, sir, but from the little that I saw and heard, I cannot
believe that your discovery of her address would be regarded by the
young woman as a trifling matter."
"Do you persist in refusing to tell me that taxicab number?" hissed
Lieutenant Cantor.
"Sir, as a gentleman, I must," Dave rejoined. For a full half
minute Lieutenant Cantor stared at his subordinate in speechless
anger. Then, when he could command his voice somewhat, he resumed:
"Oh, very good, you---you young---puppy!"
Another brief interval of silence, and the lieutenant continued,
in a crisp, official tone:
"Mr. Darrin, go to the division bulletin board and get an accurate
copy of the roster of the division. Also make a copy of our station
bills. You will then report to me on the quarter deck just before
eight bells, noon."
"Aye, aye, sir! Any further orders?"
"None!"
Cantor stood there, an appealing look in his eyes, but Dave, saluting,
turned on his heel and went out.
"So that is the fellow who is to teach me the duties and the ideals
of the service," Dave Darrin reflected, disgustedly, as he stepped
briskly around to port. "A magnificent prospect ahead of me,
if I must depend upon the instructions and the official favor
of a bully and a scoundrel like Cantor! And he can make it hot
for me, too, if he has a mind to do so! Don't I know how easy
that ought to be for him? I shall have, indeed, a lot of pleasure
in my service on this ship, with Cantor for my division officer!"
Mindful of orders, Darrin's first act was to copy the division
roster and the station bills. These he took to his room, placing
them in a drawer of the desk, for future study. For the present,
he wanted to get out into the open air.
Though Ensign Dalzell had been directed to report on the quarter
deck, he was not now there. Dave walked about by himself until
Lieutenant Trent came over and spoke to him.
"Dalzell is busy, I suppose, sir?" Dave inquired.
"Forward and below, directing the stowage of stores," replied
Trent. "Have you been detailed to a division yet, Mr. Darrin?"
"Yes, sir; to Lieutenant Cantor's division."
"Ah, so?" inquired Trent. He did not say more, from which Dave
wondered if Trent did not like Cantor. If such were the case,
then Darrin's opinion of Lieutenant Trent would run all the higher.
"Cantor is a very efficient officer," Trent said, after a pause,
not long enough to be construed unfavorably.
Dave did not answer this, for he could think of nothing to say.
"Some of our newest youngsters haven't wholly liked him," Trout
went on, with a smile. "I fancy that perhaps he works them a
bit too grillingly."
"After four years at the Naval Academy," smiled Ensign Darrin,
"it puzzles me to understand how any officer can resent grilling."
"You'll find life very different on one of these big ships," Lieutenant
Trout continued. "You will soon begin to realize that we are
in a cramped atmosphere. With fifteen hundred officers and men
abroad there is barely elbow room at any time, and sometimes not
that."
"This ship looks big enough to carry a small city full of people,"
Darrin smiled.
"See here!" Trent stepped to the starboard rail, looking forward.
"Just look ahead, and see the magnificent distance to the bow,"
continued the officer of the deck. "We call a ship 'she,' Darrin,
and let me assure you, 'she' is some girl! Look at the magnificent
length and breadth. Yet, when we are at sea, you will soon begin
to realize how cramped the life is."
After chatting a little longer with Lieutenant Trent, Ensign Darrin
started forward along the decks, taking in all he could see of this
huge, floating castle.
Presently he returned to the quarter-deck, but Lieutenant Trent
was busy with a lieutenant of the marine guard. Dave stepped
inside. Almost immediately he heard a step at his side. Glancing
around, Dave looked into the face of Lieutenant Cantor.
"A while ago I noticed you talking with Trent," Dave's division
officer remarked, in a low voice.
"Yes, sir."
"Did you discuss me?"
"Yes, sir."
"What did you say, Darrin?"
"I mentioned that you were my division officer."
"Did Trent say anything?"
"Mr. Trent said that you were a very efficient officer."
"Did you tell him anything---about---er---about last night?"
"Nothing," Dave answered.
"Positive about that?" insinuated Cantor.
"Sir," Dave answered, "I am an officer and, I trust---a gentleman."
"Then you told Trent nothing about last night?"
"I have already told you, sir, that I didn't."
"Nor to anyone else on this ship?" pressed the lieutenant.
"I told Dalzell, last night, that I had met with a stranger who
was-----"
"That will do!" snapped Cantor.
"Very good, sir."
"Have you told Dalzell about me since coming aboard?"
"I have not."
"And you won't?" pressed Cantor.
"On that point, sir, I decline to pledge myself," Darrin responded,
with unusual stiffness.
"Darrin, do you want to make an enemy?"
"Mr. Cantor, I never, at any time, wish to make an enemy. I am
not trying to make one of you."
"I will regard that as a promise from you," returned Cantor, then
moved quickly away.
"It would have been better," murmured Darrin, softly, turning
and regarding the moving figure, "if you had heard me out. However,
Mr. Cantor, though you are not now here to hear me say it, I did
not promise silence. Yet it is difficult to conceive what would
make me open my mouth on the subject of last night's happening.
I have never been a tale-bearer, and, much as I may despise that
fellow, and the affront that he offers the Navy, in remaining
in the service, I fancy his secret is safe from all---except Dalzell.
Danny and I haven't yet begun to have secrets from each other."
Presently Dan Dalzell, wearing his sword and pulling on his white
gloves as he came, appeared, walking aft. There was time only
for a smiling nod, for Dave suddenly remembered, with a start
that it was time for him to report for change of watch.
Hastening down the passage-way Dave hung his sword on, then hastily
rummaged the suit case for a pair of white gloves that he had
previously tucked in there.
Hastening, he reached the deck just as the watch was being changed.
With quick step Ensign Darrin took his momentary post. Then,
when the old watch had gone off duty, Lieutenant Cantor turned
to his subordinate with a frown.
"Ensign Darrin, you made a bad beginning, sir," declared the new
watch officer, crisply. "In the future, I trust you will be more
mindful of the responsibility of an officer in setting his men
an example in punctuality. If this occurs again, sir, I shall
feel it my duty to turn in report of your negligence!"
Several men of the watch and two of the marine guard hoard this
rebuke administered. Dave Darrin's face flushed, then paled from
the humiliation of the rebuke. Yet he had been guilty of an actual
breach of discipline, minor though it was, and could not dispute
Cantor's right to reprove him.
"I very much regret my negligence, sir," Dave answered, saluting,
but he bit his lip in the same instant for he realized how thoroughly
his superior officer enjoyed the privilege of administering the
rebuke.
From inside Dan Dalzell heard the words.
At once, on the stroke of eight bells, the mess signal was hung
to the breeze. While that flag flew no one was admitted to the
battleship unless he belonged on board.
Then appeared a little Filipino mess servant, who asked Dave and
Dan to follow him to their assigned seats.
"Am I permitted to go to mess, sir?" Dave asked of Lieutenant
Cantor.
"Yes," was the short answer.
While the signal flew the sergeant of the marine guard was in
charge at the quarter-deck gang plank. There was no need of a
commissioned officer there.
To their delight Darrin and Dalzell found themselves assigned
to seats at the table together.
Lieutenant Trent stepped down, introducing the new arrivals to
the officers beside whom, and opposite whom they sat.
"I was sorry to hear you get that calling down," Dalzell whispered
to his chum, as soon as that was possible under the cover of the
conversation of others. "Why did Lieutenant Cantor seem to enjoy
his privilege so much?"
After a covert glance, to make sure that he was not in danger of
being overheard, Darrin replied, in an undertone:
"Lieutenant Cantor was the man of whom I told you last night."
"Not the-----"
"Yes," Dave nodded.
"But it seems incredible that an officer of our Navy could be
guilty of any such conduct," Dalzell gasped, his eyes large with
amazement. "Are you sure?"
"Didn't you notice the welt on Mr. Cantor's cheek?" Dave asked,
dryly.
Danny Grin nodded, then fell silent over his plate.
After the meal Lieutenant Trent saw to it that both the new ensigns
were introduced to such officers as they had not met already.
"We can't possibly remember all their names---scores of 'em!"
gasped Dan, as the two young officers stood outside the mess.
"We'll learn every name and face before very long," Darrin answered.
"But I mustn't stand talking," Dave went on, as he again hung
his sword at his side. "I'm on duty, and can't stand another
call-down."
"Are you going to tell what Cantor did last night?" Dan queried.
"No; and don't you tell, either!"
"Small fear of my babbling _your_ business, David, little Giant!"
assured Dalzell. "You are strong enough to go in and slay your
own Goliath."
Drawing on his white gloves, Dave Darrin stepped alertly to the
quarter deck, to find himself facing the frown of Lieutenant
Cantor.
CHAPTER III
THE JUNIOR WORM TURNS
"Wonder what my man has in store for me?" flashed through Dave's
mind, as he saluted his division commander.
But Cantor, after returning the salute, merely turned away to
pace the deck.
Presently, however, the lieutenant stepped over to Darrin, when
the pair had the quarterdeck to themselves.
"Are you going to tell me?" murmured the lieutenant, his burning
gaze on the frank young face before him.
"Tell you what, sir?" Dave asked.
"That taxicab number?"
"No, sir!"
"Think!"
"When I have decided that a given course of conduct is the only
course possible to a gentleman," Ensign Darrin replied, "I have
no further occasion to give thought to that subject."
"Darrin, you might make me your friend!" urged his superior officer.
"That would be delightful, sir."
"Darrin, don't try to be ironical with me!"
Dave remained silent.
"If you don't care for me for your friend, Darrin," Cantor warned
him, "it is possible, on the other hand, to make an enemy of me.
As an enemy you would not find me wanting either in resource
or opportunity."
"Have you any orders for me, sir?" asked Darrin, coolly. That
was as near as he could come, courteously, to informing Cantor
that he wished from him none but official communications.
"Pardon me, sir," said Cantor, and stepped away to salute Commander
Bainbridge, who had just appeared on the quarter-deck. There
was a low-toned conversation between the two officers. Then,
as the pair exchanged salutes, and Bainbridge went on to the captain's
quarters, Lieutenant Cantor came back to his selected victim.
"Darrin, you will go below and finish the watch, loading stores
in the number four hold. I will pass the word for the petty officer
who will have charge under you, and he will show you to the hold.
If you wish you may put on dungarees, for it is rough work down
there."
"My baggage has not come aboard, sir," Dave replied. "This is
the only uniform I have."
In his perturbed state of mind, it did not occur to the young
ensign that he could draw dungarees---the brown overall suit that
is worn by officers and crew alike when doing rough work about
the ship, from the stores, nor did Cantor appear to notice his
reply.
The messenger came, and brought Riley, the coxswain of one of
the gigs.
"Coxswain, Ensign Darrin will take charge of the shipping of the
stores in number four hold," Cantor announced. "Show him the
way to the hold and receive his instructions."
Dave was speedily engaged between decks, in charge of tire work
of some twenty men of the crew. At the hatch above, a boatswain's
mate had charge of the lowering of the stores.
"It would be a pity to spoil your uniform, sir," declared Coxswain
Riley. "If you'll allow me, sir, I'll spare you all of the dirtiest
work."
"To shirk my duty would be a bad beginning of my service on this
ship," smiled Darrin. "Thank you, Coxswain, but I'll take my
share of the rough work."
The hold was close and stifling. Although a cool breeze was blowing
on deck, there was little air in number two hold. In ten minutes
Darrin found himself bathed in perspiration. Dust from barrels
and packing cases hung heavy in that confined space. The grime
settled on his perspiring face and stuck there.
"Look out, sir, or you'll get covered with pitch from some of these
barrels," Riley warned Dave, respectfully.
"One uniform spoiled is nothing," Dave answered with a smile.
"Do not be concerned about me."
Officer and men were suffering alike in that close atmosphere.
By the time the watch was ended Dave Darrin was truly a pitchy,
soiled, perspiration-soaked sight.
Danny Grin, who reported to relieve his chum, looked rough and
ready enough in a suit of dungarees that he had drawn.
"I should have had brains enough to remember that I, too, could
have drawn dungarees," Dave grunted, as he and his chum exchanged
salutes. Then the relieved young officer hastened above to report
the completion of his duty to his division commander, who would
be furious if kept waiting.
Dave glanced toward Cantor's quarters, then realized that the
lieutenant must still be on the quarter deck.
In his haste to be punctual, Darrin forgot his sword and white
gloves, which he had left in his own cabin on the way to duty
between decks. Without these appurtenances of duty on the quarter-deck,
Darrin made haste aft, found his division commander, saluted and
reported his relief.
"Mr. Darrin," boomed Cantor, in a tone of high displeasure, "don't
you know that an officer reporting to the quarter-deck when in
any but dungaree clothes, should wear his gloves and sword. Go
and get them, sir---and don't keep me waiting beyond my watch
time when I have shore leave!"
Again red-faced and humiliated, Ensign Darrin saluted, wheeled,
made haste to his quarters, then returned wearing sword and gloves.
This time he saluted and made his report in proper form.
"Mr. Darrin," said his division officer, scathingly, "this is
the second time to-day that I have had to teach you the things
you should have learned in your first week at Annapolis. You
are making a bad beginning, sir."
Dave saluted, but this time did not answer in words.
"You may go, Mr. Darrin, and hereafter I trust to find in you
a more attentive and clear-headed officer."
Lieutenant Cantor did not hold his tone low. It is the privilege
of an officer to rebuke an enlisted man publicly, and as severely
as the offense warrants, and it is the further privilege of an
officer to make his rebuke to a subordinate commissioned officer
as sharp and stinging as he chooses.
Saluting, without a word, Darrin wheeled and walked to his quarters.
"Cantor will certainly have abundant opportunity to make things
warm for me," reflected Darrin, as he sat down before the desk
in his cabin. "I wonder what I am to do, in order to keep my
self-respect and keep my hands off the fellow. It would probably
end my career in the Navy if I struck him on this ship."
For some minutes Darrin sat in a rather dejected frame of mind,
reviewing his first acquaintance with this official cur, and the
things that had happened on shipboard since.
"I suppose I could ask for a different detail," Dave mused, forlornly.
"Undoubtedly, though, I wouldn't get the detail, unless I gave
what were considered sufficiently good reasons, and I can't tell
tales on my division commander, cur though I know him to be."
In the passage outside, sounded passing footsteps and a laugh.
Dave felt his face flush, for he recognized the voice of Lieutenant
Cantor.
"Danny Grin is a good chum," reflected Darrin, "but in this affair
he can't advise me any better than I can advise myself. I wish
I could talk freely with some older officer, who knows shipboard
life better. But if I were to go to any older officer with such
a tale as I have, it would-----"
"In, Mr. Darrin?" sounded a cheery voice, and Commander Bainbridge,
the executive officer, stood in the doorway, bringing young Darrin
to his feet in prompt salute.
"I was passing, Darrin, and so I called," announced the executive
officer. "Otherwise, I would have summoned you to my office.
Lieutenant Cantor has secured shore leave until eleven o'clock
to-night. As we are busy aboard, Mr. Cantor's division is due
for watch duty at eight bells this evening. As Mr. Cantor has
shore leave you will report as officer of the deck until relieved
by Lieutenant Cantor on his return to the ship. At any time between
now and four bells report at my office and sign for these instructions."
"Aye, aye, sir."
Returning the ensign's salute, the executive officer next regarded
Darrin's untidy appearance with some displeasure.
"Mr. Darrin," Commander Bainbridge continued, "I note that you
must have been on hard duty. No officer, after being relieved,
is entitled to retain an untidy appearance longer than is necessary.
You should have bathed, sir, and attired yourself becomingly.
Neatness is the first requisite in the service."
"I shall be glad to do that sir," Dave answered, respectfully,
"as soon as my baggage comes aboard. At present this is the only
uniform I have."
"That alters the case, Mr. Darrin," replied the executive officer,
kindly. "In case, however, your baggage does not arrive between
now and dinner-time, you will not be warranted in going to the
ward-room, unless you can borrow a uniform that fits you as well
as one of your own."
"I shall be very careful on that point, sir," Dave answered,
respectfully, with another salute, returning which Commander
Bainbridge departed.
Ten minutes later Darrin's baggage was delivered. In their proper
places the young ensign hung his various uniforms, placed his
shoes according to regulation, and stowed his linen and underclothing
in the wardrobe drawers.
After this a most welcome bath followed. Dave then dressed with care
in a fresh blue uniform, stepped to the executive officer's office
and signed for his evening orders.
There was time for fifteen minutes in the open air, after which
Dave returned to his quarters to dress for dinner. This done,
he stepped outside, knowing that the summons to the wardroom would
soon come.
At first Dave was the only officer at that point. Commander Bainbridge
soon joined him.
A desperate thought entering his mind, Dave addressed the commander as
soon as his salute had been returned.
"Sir, may I ask you a question connected with my own personal
affairs?" he asked.
"Certainly," replied the executive officer.
"I was wondering, sir, if it would be wise for me to seek counsel
from an older officer if at any time I found myself threatened
with trouble, or, at least, with unpleasantness."
"It would be a very wise course on your part, Darrin," replied
Commander Bainbridge, though he regarded the ensign's face with
keen scrutiny. "An older officer should always esteem it a pleasure,
as well as a duty, to advise a younger officer. I take an interest
in all the officers of this ship. If there is anything in which
I can advise you, you may command me."
"Thank you, sir. But, if you will permit me to frame an instance,
if the advice that I asked of you might tend to prejudice you
against one of your subordinate officers, would it be wiser for
me to seek counsel of some officer not higher in rank than the
officer whom I have just supposed?"
"That is to say, Mr. Darrin, that the advice you might otherwise
wish to ask of me might be taken in the light of a complaint against
an officer who is one of my subordinates, and against whom you
would not wish to carry tales? In that case, you would, by all
means, show good judgment consulting a younger officer. But remember,
Darrin, that not all men are equally wise. Be very careful whom
you select at any time as adviser. And remember that, for any
advice that you may properly ask of me, you may come to me without
hesitation."
"Thank you, sir. I trust you realize how deeply grateful I am to
you," Dave protested earnestly.
As other officers came up, Commander Bainbridge cut the discussion
short by turning to greet the arrivals.
Dinner in the ward-room was the formal meal of the day. The table,
covered with snowy damask, glittered with crystal and silver.
Silent, soft-moving little Filipinos, in their white mess suits,
glided about, serving noiselessly.
At the head of the table sat Commander Bainbridge, the executive
officer, for the captain of a battleship dines in solitary state
in his own apartments. On either side of the executive officer
sat the other officers, in two long rows, according to their rank.
On either side of the Commander were seated the officers with
rank of lieutenant commander. Next to them were the lieutenants,
senior grade. After them came the lieutenants, junior grade.
At the foot of the table was a group of ensigns, the lowest in
rank of commissioned officers of the Navy.
Course followed course, and good humor prevailed at the officers'
table. Now and then a good joke or a witty sally called forth
hearty laughter. Here and there officers, dismissing laughter for
the time being, talked of graver matters.
Danny Grin soon found time to murmur the question:
"How did you get along with your tyrant this afternoon?"
"No better," Dave answered, moodily.
"Did he rake you over the coals again?"
"Yes." Then Darrin detailed the circumstances.
"I am afraid he has it in for you, all right," muttered Danny Grin,
scowling.
"He'll report me as often as he can, I don't doubt," Dave replied.
"If he can bring me up before a general court-martial, all the
better."
"I'm sorry you're not in Trent's division," Dan sighed. "He's
a gentleman---a regular, sea-going officer."
"Sea-going" is the highest praise that can be given in Navy circles.
"If I were in Trent's division, probably you'd have fallen under
Cantor," Darrin suggested.
"That would have been all right," nodded Dalzell, cheerily. "Cantor
has no direct cause to hate me, as he has in your case. Besides,
I'd do a good many things to a mean superior that you wouldn't.
If I had to stand watch with Cantor, and he tried any queer treatment
of me, I'd find a way to make his life miserable. I believe I've
shown some skill in that line in the past."
"You surely have," Darrin nodded. "But I don't like to spring
traps for my superior officers to fall into."
"Not even in self-defence?" challenged Dalzell.
"Not even to save myself," Darrin declared. At eight bells, in
Lieutenant Cantor's absence, Darrin took the watch trick alone
as officer of the deck until six bells, or eleven o'clock that
night.
There was not much to do. Now and then a shore leave man, sailor
or marine, reported coming on board. Darrin made a note of the
man's return and entered the time. Twice, a messenger brought
some small order from the executive officer. Yet it was a dull
watch, with the ship docked and nothing of importance happening.
"Cantor will soon be back," thought Dave, at last, slipping out
his watch and glancing at it under the light that came from the
cabin. His timepiece showed the time to be five minutes to eleven.
But a quarter of an hour passed, and no Lieutenant Cantor appeared.
More time slipped by without the lieutenant's return.
"That doesn't sound much like the punctuality that is required
of a naval officer," Dave told himself, in some disquiet.
Then finally a step was heard on the gangplank. Lieutenant Cantor
came briskly up over the side, halting on the deck and saluting
toward the stern, where the colors flew until sundown.
"Mr. Darrin, I've come on board," reported the lieutenant, turning
in time to catch Dave's salute.
He stepped closer, to add:
"You will enter a note that I came on board at 10.58."
"The time is eleven-forty, sir," Dave reminded his superior, at
the same time displaying his watch.
"Note that I came on board at 10.58," insisted Cantor, frowning.
"Sentry!" called Dave, briskly.
"Aye, aye, sir!"
"Note the time on the chronometer inside," Darrin ordered.
"Aye, aye, sir." Then, returning the marine sentry answered:
"It's eleven-forty, sir."
Dave made the entry of the lieutenant's return.
"You infernal trouble-maker," hissed Cantor, as the sentry paced
on. "You dragged that sentry into it, just so you would have
supporting testimony of the time I came aboard! I'll pay you
back for that! Look out for trouble, Mr. Darrin!"
CHAPTER IV
THE WARD-ROOM HEARS REAL NEWS
Hurrying to the now empty office of the executive officer, Cantor
made correct entry of his return to ship on the record, then hurried
to his own quarters, and with almost the speed of magic, slipped
into his undress uniform, belted on his sword, and appeared smartly
on the quarter-deck.
For two minutes he paid no heed to Darrin, save to return the
salute with which the young ensign greeted his superior's return
to command of the deck.
Presently, however, Lieutenant Cantor stepped over to say in an
undertone:
"Darrin, you have made the wrong start, and I see that you are
bound to keep it up."
"I am trying to do my duty, sir," Darrin returned. "I could not
consent to make a false official return."
"Officers often have to do that for each other," Cantor went on,
in the same low tone, "and they do it willingly as between comrades."
It was on the tip of Darrin tongue to retort that he didn't believe
any true officer, being a man of honor, could stoop to making
a false official report. Yet he instantly thought better of it,
and forced back the sarcastic retort that rose to his lips.
"You're not going to succeed in the Navy, sir," Cantor continued,
then, seeing the young ensign's face still impassive, he added,
with a malicious leer:
"Since you are determined to make an enemy of me, Darrin, I shall
do my best to see to it that you have short shrift in the service."
"Of that I haven't a doubt," Dave returned, but he caught himself
in time and said it under his breath.
Then came the changing of the watch. Trent and Dalzell appeared
and went on duty.
Formally, Dave wished his division commander good night, Cantor
answering only with a grunt.
Returning to his stateroom, Dave threw off belt and sword, hung
up his cap, then sat down in his desk chair, leaning back and
steadily regarding the breech of the great gun.
"I wonder if any other young officer in the service is at the
mercy of such a brute," Darrin asked himself, wretchedly. "I
love good discipline, but there's one thing wrong with the service,
and that is, the ease with which a dishonorable officer can render
the life of his subordinate miserable. It ought not to be possible,
and yet I don't see any way of preventing it. I wish I could
talk with a gentleman like Lieutenant Trent, but he would only
regard me as a tale-bearer, and after that he would have no use
for me. One thing I can see clearly. Cantor is likely to have
me broken and kicked out of the service if I am forced to remain
in his division week after week."
Then, realizing that his time was slipping away, Darrin hastily
undressed and got into his berth. It was a long time, though,
before sleep came to him.
In the morning Lieutenant Cantor was obliged to listen meekly
to a long discourse by the executive officer on the virtue of
punctuality in a naval officer. The offender told of a car block
in New York that had made it impossible for him to return on time.
"Lieutenant Cantor," returned the executive officer, dryly, "a
careful officer will allow himself sufficient margin of time to
make it morally certain that he can be back to his duty on time.
Now, sir-----"
But at this moment an apprentice messenger, standing in the doorway,
his right hand drawn up in salute, attracted the gaze of Commander
Bainbridge:
"The captain" compliments, sir; will the executive officer report
to him at once."
"That is all---for the present---Lieutenant Cantor," said Commander
Bainbridge, rising from his chair and hastening out.
"And all this, on account of a puppy of a junior who will not
use sense and reason at the request of a superior officer!" ground
Cantor between his teeth. "I shall pay Darrin for this, and for
that greater insult, too."
Some minutes before the call to breakfast was due, Darrin and
Dalzell appeared from their quarters and walked aft to where a
group of the "_Long Island's_" officers stood. Three or four
of them had newspapers in their hands.
"It's time the government did something!" exclaimed one lieutenant
commander, testily.
"We're going to do something, soon," asserted another officer,
with a snap of his jaws.
"When?" demanded a third officer, while several men laughed derisively.
"We'll have to," continued the second speaker. "Every day the
Mexican situation becomes worse. The usurper, Huerta, is becoming
more of a menace all the time. He has no regard for the rights
of any one, but himself. And he is unable to do more, in the
field, than to accept defeat after defeat at the hands of the
rebels under that former bandit chief, 'Pancho' Villa. Both the
so-called Federals and the rebels, in Mexico, are doing their
best to make Mexico a hotbed of incurable anarchy. Scores of
American citizens have been murdered ruthlessly, and American
women have been roughly treated. British subjects have been shot
without the shadow of an excuse, and other foreigners have been
maltreated. This country claims to uphold the Monroe Doctrine,
which prevents European nations from interfering with force in
affairs on this continent. If that is the case, then the United
States must put an end to the numberless outrages against Americans
and Europeans that take place every week in Mexico. That once
orderly republic, Mexico, is now nothing better than a school
for instruction in wholesale murder and in the ruthless riding
over of the rights of all aliens residing or traveling in that
country. These aliens have every right to protection."
"Quite true," remarked another officer. "But what has that to
do with the United States? What has there been in our conduct
during the past three or four years to indicate that we would
take any strong-handed action to make life and property safe in
Mexico?"
"We shall soon interfere," predicted the former speaker, confidently.
"Affairs in Mexico are now nearing a crisis. The United States
will no longer be called a civilized and honorable nation if Army
and Navy men are not sent to Mexico to uphold our government and
the rights of American citizens living there."
"Do you think, Holton, that will happen before you and I have been
put on the retired list as white-haired rear admirals?" asked
another officer, half-jeeringly.
"You will find," insisted Lieutenant Holton, "that we shall soon
be listening to the thunder of our American naval guns at Vera
Cruz, Tampico, or some other port on the shores of the Gulf of
Mexico."
"Hurrah!" came from the throats of a dozen officers, but the cheer
was not a very confident one. Too long had the United States
been patient in the face of one insult or injury after another.
General Huerta, in Mexico City, and Carranza and Villa, in the
west and north of that country, had headed factions, neither of
which seemed to care about Mexico's good name in the world at
large. Maltreated Americans demanded punishment of the Mexican
offenders, but the United States had been engaged in patiently
waiting and watching, only once in a while sending a feeble protest
either to the Federal or the Constitutionalist leaders in that
murder-ridden country of Mexico.
Mess-call sounded to breakfast. The officers filed into their
places at table; then, on observing that the executive officer
was not in his place at the head of the table, they remained standing
by their chairs.
A minute afterward Commander Bainbridge entered with brisk stride,
going to his place and giving the seating signal as he said:
"Pardon my tardiness, gentlemen; the captain detained me on a
most urgent matter."
After that the buzz of conversation broke loose. Breakfast orders
were taken by the white-coated, noiseless Filipino servants. When
all had been served, the executive officer glanced up, then rose.
"The attendants will withdraw," he ordered. "Orderly!"
"Aye, aye, sir!" responded the marine orderly on post just inside
the door.
"As soon as the attendants have gone outside, orderly, you will
chose the door from the outside, and remain there to keep any
one from entering the room."
"Aye, aye, sir!" responded the orderly, who then followed the
last attendant outside, closing the door after him.
"Gentlemen," continued the executive officer, remaining standing,
"Captain Gales sent for me this morning, to make a most important
communication. With his approval I am going to tell you something
of what he said. In a word, then, this ship is ordered to be
fitted for a cruise to Mexico in the shortest time possible.
Within three or four days we must be on our way to Mexican waters.
"We are to go with bunkers filled with coal. We are to carry
abundant clothing supplies for tropical service. We are to carry
all the large and small arms ammunition that we can stow away.
We are to take on food supplies to our fullest commissary capacity.
In a word, we are to go prepared for any emergency.
"Now, gentlemen, on account of our departure at the earliest moment,
every officer will be needed on board all the time. Unless for
some extraordinary reason, shore leave will not be granted to
any officer. The watch-word will be 'hustle.' Thank you, gentlemen,
for your attention."
In an instant there was clamor in the wardroom. Twenty officers
spoke at once, then subsided. Finally only the voice of Lieutenant
Commander Denton was heard as he inquired:
"Sir, are we entitled to ask any questions?"
"I will answer any questions that I may properly," smiled the
executive officer.
"We are going to Mexico, sir, in fighting trim, are we not?"
"I think what I have already said will indicate that," came Commander
Bainbridge's reply.
"Has anything happened in Mexico," continued Denton, "which makes
it imperative for us to fight there?"
"Nothing, so far as I know," answered the executive officer, "other
than the usual daily outrages that are disgracing the fair name
of Mexico."
"Then nothing of unusual importance has happened, which would
make us sure that we are heading for Mexico on a definite fighting
errand?"
"I have no knowledge that we are actually going to fight in Mexico,"
replied Commander Bainbridge. "It has occurred to me that this
ship, and others of the line, are being ordered to Mexico as a
hint to Federals and rebels alike that the United States possesses
force enough to bring all Mexicans to their senses."
Having made this last reply, Commander Bainbridge touched a button.
The ward-room door was thrown open, and the mess-servants once
more entered.
But now a new note crept into the talk. The fact that the "_Long
Island_" was to carry to Mexican waters full supplies of all kinds,
including small and large ammunition, was enough to satisfy these
officers of the Navy that the government at Washington had an
important move on hand, and that move was expected to bring about
armed conflict between the two countries.
"Now, am I a dreamer?" demanded Lieutenant Holton of those about
him.
The two most excited officers present were also the newest on
hoard the "_Long Island_." At the thought of active service against
an enemy, Dave Darrin and Dan Dalzell fairly tingled.
"This is the greatest news we could possibly get," beamed Danny
Grin, turning to his chum.
"It seems too great to be true," replied Ensign Darrin. "Danny,
the Mexicans have been boasting that we don't _dare_ tackle them and
stir up that Mexican hornet's nest. If we get a chance, the American
Navy will show them---and the world---something well worth
remembering!"
Both Darrin and Dalzell had already been notified that they were
detailed to "day duty" for that day. This meant that they would
have no watch duty to stand, but would be employed through the
day, while watch duty fell to the lot of others.
While Dalzell was to go below, with Trent, aiding in the storage
of shells in the magazine, Darrin was ordered to report to Lieutenant
Cantor to supervise the oiling of mechanisms of the guns of Cantor's
division, and, later, to perform other important duties.
"Your face is flushed," sneered Cantor, when he found an opportunity
to speak aside with Dave. "You are dreaming of active service in
war, perhaps."
"Yes, sir," said Dave, simply.
"Look out that war service doesn't bring you disgrace, instead of
honor or glory," warned Cantor, darkly.
"What do you mean, sir?"
"You have made me your enemy, and I am a good hater," retorted
Lieutenant Cantor.
"You will be under my orders, and I may find a chance-----"
Lieutenant Cantor finished only with an expressive shrug of his
shoulders.
Though Dave Darrin felt a tremor of uneasiness, his eyes flashed
back honest indignation and contempt for so unworthy a superior
officer.
CHAPTER V
WATCHING AND WAITING---BEHIND BIG GUNS
April, in the tropics!
Four miles off the coast of Mexico, east of the historic port of
Vera Cruz, the United States dreadnought, "_Long Island_," moved
along at slow cruising speed.
The few days out from New York had brought marked changes in climate.
While people in New York found the weather still cold, here in
Mexican waters, officers and men alike were in the white uniforms
of the tropics---all save those whose work below compelled them
to wear dungarees.
On the bridge forward, two officers paced at a time. During the
night hours there were always three there.
Aft, on the quarter-deck, marines were going through the rifle
gymnastic drill. In some of the divisions officers and men were
busy at the big gun drills. Others were cleaning a ship that
always seemed spotless. The few that were off duty gathered wherever
they could find room, for a battleship at sea, with her full complement
of officers and men on board, is a crowded affair.
No other ship of the American fleet was in sight, but two operators,
constantly on duty in the wireless room, kept the "_Long Island_"
in constant touch with a score of vessels of the United States Navy.
"Have you any idea what we're doing here?" asked Danny Grin, as
he and Dave met on the superstructure.
"No idea whatever," Ensign Darrin admitted. "I have noticed,
though, that the officers on the bridge keep a constant lookout
ashore. See; two of them, even now, have their binoculars trained
on the shore."
"I don't see anything over there," replied Dalzell, "except a
house or a small village here and there. I looked through the
binoculars a little while ago, and to me it appeared a country
that was about nine-tenths swamp."
"In the event of sending landing parties ashore," Dave hinted,
"we might have to fight in one of those swamps. When it comes
to fighting in the tangles and mazes of a swamp, I fancy the Mexicans
have had a whole lot more experience than we have had."
"Why should we have to send landing parties so far from Vera Cruz?"
Dan demanded, opening his eyes.
"We're only forty or fifty miles east of Vera Cruz," Darrin went
on. "Danny boy, Vera Cruz is supposed to have a garrison, at
present, of only about eight hundred of General Huerta's Mexican
Federals. But suppose it was rumored that the Americans intended
to land at Vera Cruz. Isn't it likely that the garrison would
be greatly increased?"
"Let 'em increase their old garrison," smiled Dalzell, contemptuously.
"The first landing parties from our fleet would drive out any kind
of a Mexican garrison that Huerta could put in that town."
"Exactly," nodded Dave, "and then the Mexicans would naturally
fall back."
"We can chase 'em," asserted Ensign Dalzell.
"Certainly, but a large force of Mexicans might fall back along the
coast, through the swampy country we are now facing."
"In that case," argued Dan, "we wouldn't have to follow the brown
rascals on foot. We could use the ship to follow 'em, and land
and fight where we found 'em."
"To be sure," Ensign Darrin agreed. "But the Mexicans, knowing
their own swamps, would have considerable advantage. They might
have part of their force retreat, drawing us further and further
into a swamp, and then have another force get between us and our
ships."
"Let 'em try it," retorted Dan Dalzell, grimly, "If there is anything
new that the Greasers want to know about American methods of fighting,
our fleet is full of officers who are willing to be patient
instructors. But take my word for it, Dave, if the Mexicans ever
try to draw us into one of those swamps, they'll learn so much about
real Yankee fighting that it will be fatal to all the Mexicans who
take the instruction from us!"
"That's all very good," Darrin nodded, thoughtfully. "Still, we
shall make a greater success of operations in the swamps if we
study them as much as possible at present."
"I hope the study will soon be followed by a recitation," grinned
Dalzell. "I feel that I'm going stale with so much study. Now,
if we could only hear a few shots, and then fall in with an
advancing firing line!"
"You bloodthirsty wretch!" rebuked Ensign Darrin, but he smiled
in sympathy.
"This waiting and watching grows wearisome," groaned Danny Grin.
"But we're watching behind big guns," returned Dave Darrin, grimly.
"Surely, when our ships are down here in such force, and others
are being rushed through preparation before coming into these
waters, there must be something more in the air than the ordinary
kind of watching and waiting. Cheer up, Dan! Before long you'll
hear some of our big guns speak, and you'll hear the rattle of
small arms, too."
"Understand, please," begged Dalzell, "I'm not bloodthirsty, and
I abhor the very thought of war, but, since we're doing all the
watching and waiting, I wish these Mexicans would hurry up and
start something!"
Trent climbed to the superstructure. Then, catching sight of his
juniors, he came toward them.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Watching," sighed Dave.
"And waiting," added Danny Grin.
"Then perhaps you youngsters will be interested in the news of
what's going on under this superstructure," suggested Lieutenant
Trent.
"What's happening below?" demanded Dalzell. "More watching---and
waiting?"
"Why, I have an idea that we won't have to wait much longer,"
replied Trent, smiling at the eager faces before him. "I've just
learned that, for the last twenty minutes, Captain Gales has been
standing in the wireless room, and that Commander Bainbridge is
with him. They are, so I hear, having a hot and heavy wireless
talk with Admiral Fletcher."
"A little _talk_, as a relief from so much watching and waiting,
eh?" asked Darrin, dryly.
"Why, I believe that the talk is going to lead to something real,"
replied Lieutenant Trent, trying hard to keep the flash of excitement
from showing in his own eyes. The fact is, something has happened."
"Don't 'string' us like that!" urged Danny Grin. "Why, Trent,
the American Navy, and the Army, too, has been waiting for three
years or more for something to happen. But so far it has all
happened on the Mexican side. Don't tell us, at this late day,
that the United States is going to start anything to happening on
the other side."
"There's something up," Trent insisted. "I don't know what it
is; I haven't an idea of the nature of the happening, but of this
I feel rather sure,---that now, at last, the Mexicans have done
something that will turn Yankee guns and Yankee men loose."
"I wonder if you're any good as a prophet, Trent?" pondered Dan,
studying his division officer's face keenly.
"We'll wait and see," laughed the lieutenant. "If there really
is anything in the wind, I think we'll have a suspicion of what
it is by mess-hour to-night. A little more watching and waiting
won't hurt us."
"Hear that commotion on the quarter-deck?" demanded Dave, suddenly.
"I hear a lot of talking there. Come on. We'll see if _waiting_
is about to be turned into _doing_."
Trent walked slowly aft. Still chatting with him, Dave and Dan
kept by his side. Then they stood looking down upon the quarter-deck.
Presently two messengers came running out, looking eagerly about
them. One messenger, catching sight of the three officers on
the superstructure, came bounding up the steps, halting and saluting.
"Compliments of the executive officer," announced the messenger;
"Ensigns Darrin and Dalzell are directed to report to his office
immediately."
"Perhaps you'll hear the news at once," murmured Trent, as his
juniors left him.
When the two ensigns reported to him, Commander Bainbridge was
pacing the passageway outside his office.
"The captain is awaiting us in his office," said the executive.
"We will go there at once."
The instant he entered the captain's quarters, Darrin had sudden
misgivings of some impending misfortune, for Lieutenant Cantor,
very erect, and looking both stern and important, was talking in
low tones with Captain Gales.
"Now, what has the scoundrel found to fasten upon me?" Ensign
Dave Darrin wondered, with a start. "And how has he managed
to drag Dan into it?"
CHAPTER VI
FIRST TO INVADE MEXICO
"Gentlemen," began Captain Gales, seriously, though there was
a pleasant smile on his face, "I imagine I have extremely pleasant
news for two of you. Commander Bainbridge and Lieutenant Trent
have already some idea of the news, but I will go over it again for
the benefit of all here."
"I may go on breathing again," Dave thought grimly. "Then this
communication can hardly be in reference to any complaint that
Cantor may have lodged against me."
"Messrs. Cantor, Darrin and Dalzell will tonight," resumed the
captain, "lead the first expeditions by United States forces that
have been made in a great many years."
Had war been declared? Both Dave and Dan fairly jumped with
eagerness.
"A letter, coming by some mysterious, round-about route," continued
Captain Gales, "has reached the American consul at Vera Cruz.
An American party, consisting of Mr. and Mrs. John Carmody and
two small sons, and of Mrs. Sarah Deeming and two daughters nineteen
and sixteen years of age, came down by muleback from the plateau
some three weeks ago. Carmody is a planter up in that part of
the country, and the Deemings were his guests. Different bands
of bandit raiders have visited the Carmody plantation from time
to time within the last two years, stealing stock and supplies,
and levying money blackmail, until Carmody found himself practically
ruined, unless the present crops should turn out well.
"Three weeks ago Carmody learned that it was high time for isolated
Americans to reach the protection of some large town. Attended
by two peons (native laborers), and travelling on mule back, the
party started through the mountains for Vera Cruz. Four hours out
from the plantation the party was halted by a score of men led by
a brigand named Cosetta, who is reported to be the right hand man
of the notorious Zapata himself.
"Cosetta, it appears, believed that he could force Carmody to
pay a large indemnity, in money, for the release of himself and
family and their woman friends. First of all, the Americans were
taken to a house near a deserted sugar mill, somewhere on the
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