CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE
The three green balls of fire floated past the ship and slowly faded
away in the heavens. Absolute silence reigned, while those on the
_Denver's_ deck watched with fascination their weird progress.
From the shore came no sign nor sound of disturbance. No calls, shouts,
nor firing of guns. What, then, was the meaning of the rocket?
"It was fired from the consulate," said Captain Bentley. "My agreement
with the consul was to send up a rocket in case he absolutely needed
assistance, but he is such an excitable individual and his nerves are in
such state that he is quite capable of committing any error of
judgment."
"The shore looks peaceable enough," remarked Mr. Ogden. "Shall I have
the search-lights turned on, sir?"
"Yes, and then I wish you to go ashore and investigate. Take a squad of
marines with you and a bugler. If in your estimation an immediate
landing is required, he can sound 'call to arms' from the consulate. It
will save time. I seriously doubt if there is need of such drastic
action."
The search-light beams lighted up the shore while the Captain was
speaking and those officers who had binoculars scanned the town for
evidences of excitement. A few people strolled about the streets
turning their faces from the glare as the travelling rays momentarily
flooded them with daytime brilliancy.
"Call away the steamer, Mr. Gardiner, and send word to Sergeant Douglass
to have a squad of men and a trumpeter ready to get aboard when she
comes alongside. I will go ashore in the same boat," and having given
his orders Mr. Ogden disappeared below to get his sidearms.
Ensign Gardiner, Officer of the Deck, issued his orders promptly. In
the marine compartment Douglass was besieged with requests from eager
marines to be among those landed, but his announcement that Corporal
Dorlan's squad was detailed for the duty blasted the hopes of all but
the fortunate ones included. Henry Cabell, being the only music left in
the guard, was also detailed, and a few minutes later Mr. Ogden followed
the last of his guard into the steamer.
"Shove off, coxswain. Take your orders from Mr. Ogden," ordered Mr.
Gardiner, and the little steamer started on its way to the landing, full
speed ahead.
A little after five o'clock that afternoon Senora Perez awaited the
return of the governess and little Soledad. The rebel forces had
withdrawn; the American sailors were ashore, and no thought of danger
entered her mind. From the high ground of the garden in front of the
house she could now see the boats returning to the ship laden down with
the liberty party. It was high time for Fraeulein to be back.
A sound as of someone trying to lift the latch of the gate came to
Senora's ears.
"They have come home," she thought as she turned to watch the entrance,
but the next moment, with a cry of apprehension she was running to
support the faltering form of the German governess.
"Where is Soledad? Where is my child?" she demanded in a shrill,
strange voice.
But Fraeulein Stauche was unable to answer. She had reached the limit of
her endurance, and she fell into Senora Perez's arms, overcome and
speechless.
With the help of servants she was carried into the house and
restoratives given. Messengers were sent for the consul and a
physician. In the meantime the distracted mother listened to the
disconnected words and sentences which told her of her child. Finally
the consul arrived and in turn was given the sad news. But all this
took time, and nearly three hours had elapsed since Soledad was snatched
from the keeping of Fraeulein. Unhesitatingly the consul fired the
signal which would bring the most efficient aid he could command, and
while he watched its gracefully curving arc shooting out over the
darkening waters, and the three green balls of fire slowly drift across
the bay, he lost all hope of ever seeing his child, for he knew the
rebel chief Gonzales whose forces held the approaches to the town and he
knew nothing but evil of the man. Waiting there in the darkness he heard
the bugle on board ship calling away the boats, bringing aid to his
door. He saw the search-lights illuminate the shore line and then he
paced from door to gate, back and forth waiting--waiting! No longer a
fussy, ridiculous figure, for the despair which gripped his heart lent
him a new dignity.
Soon the tramp of men on the macadam road! No native soldiers ever
walked with that long swinging stride. He watched them pass beneath a
glimmering street light at the corner, "two, four, six, eight," he
counted, as the rifle barrels flashed by. What! No more than eight
men, when hundreds were needed if ever they hoped to catch Gonzales!
Yes, more than hundreds!
Then he saw two more Americans pass the light, one a naval officer in
his white uniform. Ah, perhaps this little body was merely an advance
guard!
Rushing to the gate, he met Lieutenant Commander Ogden and in the fewest
possible words, brokenly related his pitiful story. Meanwhile Dorlan
and his men entered the grounds and stood at ease, silently attentive.
"May I see Fraeulein Stauche?" asked Mr. Ogden. "Perhaps she may
remember more incidents now that she has recovered a little. Does she
speak English?"
"Si, Senor[#] Ogden, she speaks four languages fluently. Come this
way," and the Consul led the officer to the hysterical governess, and
while the questions he asked her were being answered Dorlan stood by
listening.
[#] Yes, sir, or master, or mister. Senora is lady, madam, etc. Nina
means little girl and nino, little boy.
"Yes, two men first attacked her. No, they were not soldiers. On
second thoughts she was positive one with whom she fought was dressed
like the American soldiers from the ship. He was the one she remembered
bending over her when she recovered consciousness, and now she recalled
seeing him run down the road after the others with the child. Yes, he
was armed with two revolvers. No, she did not understand why two natives
were lying near her on the road--she only remembered seeing the eyes of
one of them fastened on her and, becoming terrified, she fled. Not a
word had been spoken, but the last man looked like a Spaniard. He was
good looking but very dirty."
Mr. Ogden was at a loss as to what action he should take. It was out of
the question to send a searching party into the country; in the night
they could accomplish nothing. Leaving Dorlan and his men in charge he
returned to make his report to Captain Bentley. The Consul had sent
word to the Commandant at the fort, but that official said he could not
order his men out on such an errand without permission of higher
authority. More than likely his men would refuse to go in any case.
"The evidence against Drummer Comstock and Choiniski seems to be
growing," said the Captain when Mr. Ogden had ceased speaking as they
sat in the cabin, after the Executive's return.
"Yes, it is, startlingly so, for to-night Corporal Dorlan told me that
every man on the ship knows the Consul has a large sum of money in his
house. I supposed that fact was known only to you, the Consul and
myself."
"How did it leak out?"
"Your orderly, Jones, repeated what he had overheard the first day Senor
Perez came on board. Both the absentees were present and Choiniski even
questioned Jones later regarding the talk. As for the Drummer,
Fraeulein Stauche describes him very accurately, dark eyes, black hair,
dark skin,--you know how tanned he is--and 'dressed like soldiers from
the ship.' Comstock claimed he was bound for the fort, and apparently
was anxious to be alone, but we know he did not go up there. He was
last seen on that very road, and shortly before the attack happened.
Dorlan swears that the boy is innocent, and believes he was hurt and
possibly is lying on the road wounded or else he has gone in pursuit of
the men who abducted the child."
"It is a serious matter," said the Captain. "I dislike to hold a
suspicion of the kind against the young marine, but the circumstances
are certainly damaging, and there are some points you have overlooked."
"Something derogatory to the marine?"
"Yes. If you recall, he was allowed in the armory as a favor, and
to-day two revolvers are missing from there; also the governess says the
last man who disappeared had on two revolvers."
"Well, sir, it looks black indeed. If it is true then the rebel leader
Gonzales is not the guilty party. But what is the object in taking the
child?"
"Having possession of the Consul's daughter and knowing the Consul has a
large amount of cash, the object is altogether too plain to admit of
error in arriving at a conclusion;--hostage and ransom money, Mr. Ogden!
It is Choiniski's idea, and Comstock's help in the matter will make the
venture a success. I was cruising in the Mediterranean when the
missionary, Miss Stone, was abducted in Turkey. The bandits of the
Balkans and of Turkey resort often to this method of procuring funds.
Joe Choiniski was born in Krajik, a small village hidden away in the
wildest part of the Albanian Mountains. To him this is no horrible
thing, as it is to us."
For a while there was silence in the little cabin. Then the Captain
continued:
"By morning I think we may have some news. I have no fears for the
child's life. She is too valuable alive. Her abductors want money and
will find a way to have a message reach her father demanding payment.
But nothing can be done to-night."
"One more thing, Captain. I have stated these facts about the young
marine, not because I am convinced of his guilt, but because every point
having bearing on the case should be weighed. Now, if he is not guilty
or implicated, what has become of him? Corporal Dorlan wanted permission
to go up the road to where the attack took place and look over the
ground. He feels that young Comstock may be lying there in the road and
unable to return. He is staunch in his belief in the boy, and if you
have no objection I would like to send him on the errand. It could do no
harm."
"Is there anyone ashore who can read signals?"
"Almost all the marines are good signalmen, and Trumpeter Cabell is an
expert. He can read any kind of a message not in code."
"Very well, send the order, and have Dorlan report by signal immediately
upon his return. But he is not to go off the trail nor further than the
point mentioned. You say he has a flash-light, and it should be easy to
discover traces in the dirt of the roadway."
Trumpeter Cabell felt the importance of his position when, a little
later, he began spelling out the message, from the string of red and
white lights, sent by Ardois[#] from the _Denver_. Corporal Dorlan took
down each letter carefully, for he wanted to make no mistake in his
instructions.
[#] "Ardois" lights are used for night signalling in the Navy.
"It's about time they was doin' somethin' regardin' that lad," he
mumbled as he wet the stubby pencil in order to write more legibly.
"Now, young feller, ye wigwag to the ship, when they throw the light on
this balcony and can see yer, that I want 'em to keep that fool
search-light away from this place. Every time they shine it over here
it puts the whole lot of us in plain view to git shot up by any Spig in
the neighborhood. Tell 'em you will signal with a lantern, and we don't
want their bloomin' old light around here."
With this parting word the corporal started out on his reconnaissance
along the road where the Fraeulein had met with her adventure.
There was no moon, and soon the trail turned back from the bay. Here
the darkness of the tropical night hung heavily about the little party.
The old soldier took no chances in his work, and formed his three-man
patrol in accordance with the rules of warfare.
One man marched about fifty yards ahead, the other the same distance in
rear of Dorlan. This formation lessened the danger of a surprise, and
increased the chances of at least one member of the patrol's escape, if
attacked. Dorlan had brought his small flash-light with which to search
the ground for clues of any import.
"I know that lad ain't mixed up with that rascal Joe Choiniski," mused
Dorlan as he walked, "no matter what the First Lieutenant believes.
It's more'n likely he's the very one what knocked out them two fellers
what tackled the Dootch girl, and--ah! Here we are!" he exclaimed.
With a low peculiar whistle he halted his men and began a systematic
search of the tracks in the dusty path.
"Here's where the Dootch girl fainted, and here's where the shoe marks
show the scrimmage took place. These tracks were made by government
issue shoes and were worn by a marine. The imprint of the strap of the
leggin' is plain as the nose on yer face. Them's Dick Comstock's
tracks; and it's as I says,--he's gone after them greasers for sure.
Hello, what's this? The grass and bushes all bendin'. Ah, ye dirty
Dago ye. I've got ye. Come back here, Smithers, and help untie these
two fellers. We'll take 'em back and see what they've got to say for
themselves. And I guess that's about all I can do this night, accordin'
to me orders."
And back over the trail to the consulate went the patrol to deliver
their two prisoners and make their report. But if the natives knew
anything, they refused to talk, and the whereabouts of little Soledad
and Drummer Comstock still remained an unsolved mystery.