"Well, we're here at last!" exclaimed Ned, as he fell into step beside
his brother, walking along the water front.
"Yes, Ned, and it remains to be seen what we can do--I mean about our
business and uncle's. As for quelling any trouble here, there doesn't
seem to be any."
This was true enough, as far as it went. The two battleship boys and
their comrades found themselves in a typical city of the tropics. It was
a large one, and there were many improvements that would scarcely have
been looked for. But a number of European firms, including many Germans,
were in business, and this accounted, in part, for the up-to-dateness.
"But I don't see any signs of a revolution," declared Ned.
"Maybe they've cleared it all away," Frank suggested. "Don't you think,
though, Ned, that there is a sort of air of expectancy about the
people--as though they were looking for something unpleasant to happen,
as we were last night on board?"
"Well, maybe you're right, Frank," Ned admitted, as he looked into the
faces of the inhabitants. There were furtive glances cast at the men
from the United States battleship, but, back of that, there seemed to be
something else. And more than once Ned and Frank saw little knots of men
gathered on the street corners. And they would look and point in the
direction of the hills, where the big guns had made great holes in the
earth.
"I wonder what they'd say if they knew you had a hand in making the dirt
fly?" said Ned.
"Well, not much more of a hand than you had, Ned. We all had a finger in
the pie, even if I actually did fire the big gun. I couldn't have done
that unless you fellows had helped. But I guess there's no danger of 'em
knowing what I did. Not that I care. Though they don't seem much
concerned at what we did."
"No, and that's the odd part of it. You'd think they'd be angry at us."
"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.
Instantly the officer gave the signal. Bells began ringing throughout
the great battleship. The general call was sounded, and blue-jackets
swarmed from their hammocks.
"It's a riot!" cried a commanding officer, as soon as he had read the
message flashed by the signal lights. "It's what we've been expecting!
The revolutionary party is stirring up a riot against the American
residents!"
"Man the boats! Get a landing party ashore. Infantrymen and light
artillery guns! We'll show these chaps what it means to fight Americans!
Lively, boys!"
Across the dark waters on which sparkled the reflections of the signal
lights, came hoarse cries and shouts, as well as the reports of guns.
In an instant the battleship was astir. The men sprang to their
stations, and Ned and Frank were among the first. Into the boats they
piled, well armed, and in other boats that accompanied them were the
light field pieces. They were on their way to quell the riot.
But what it was all about, the cause of it, and how it would affect them
and their uncle, Ned and Frank could only guess.