Great searchlights from the battleship illuminated a scene that was one
of great activity. Boats were pulling away from the side of the
_Georgetown_, boats filled with eager, excited men and youths, including
our two friends. Every one was armed, and each had plenty of cartridges
in reserve. There were also light field pieces taken apart for
transportation, but which could easily be set up. The men had been
drilled for just such an emergency as this.
Several motor launches towed the cutters filled with the blue-jackets.
There was no time for rowing, with the growing excitement on shore ever
on the increase.
"Say, it sure is a row!" exclaimed Ned, for as they came nearer they
could hear shots and shouts and yells.
"It's a regular riot!" said Frank.
"That's what it is," said a petty officer in the boat containing Frank
and Ned. "It's a riot, and that's what we're going ashore for--to end
it!"
In the path of the illumination from the battleship's searchlights the
boats sped on. Now could be seen a dark mass of men fighting near the
shore.
"They're going to dispute our landing," observed Tom Dawson.
"Well, they won't dispute it very long," said Frank, significantly, as
he tapped his rifle. "We're ready for them."
Up to the beach, through surf that was not heavy, went the boats. Before
they grounded the men and youths leaped out into the water and fairly
raced up the shingle. In an instant they formed in line and waited for
orders from their officers. There were nearly three hundred of them, for
the _Georgetown_ carried over a thousand men, though of course many of
them were not available for fighting duty on shore. However, several
hundred more could be sent in case the impending conflict should go
against the first men who landed.
"Attention, men!" called the commanding officer. "I want you to
understand what this is about. Our captain has been appealed to for
protection by a number of United States citizens living here. According
to the signals flashed to us from shore our citizens are being attacked
by a mob of the revolutionists. Just why, we needn't go into now. But we
must give protection to our friends, and we are going to try and drive
off the mob."
"Hurrah!" some one cried.
"Lively now, men!" went on the officer. "Forward! There they are!"
The dark mass of fighters which had been near the shore before the boats
landed had gone farther up the strand just as the battleship men
arrived. But now they were again rushing down the beach.
There were shouts, yells and cries, mingling with the pop of small arms.
Most of the shouting was in a foreign tongue, Portuguese, most likely,
so Ned and Frank thought.
"There must be a lot of our citizens here," said Ned, as he saw that
there were two good-sized crowds, one evidently attacking the other. And
it was this attack and repulse, this backward and forward movement, as
the tide of fighting changed, that had taken the conflicting forces away
from the water's edge, and now, once more, brought them to it again.
"Those who are being attacked aren't all Americans," said a petty
officer near our heroes. "Our citizens threw their lot in with the
inhabitants here who are opposed to the revolutionists, and the latter
are attacking the loyal natives as well as our men. Now we'll--"
But he had no time to explain further, as sharp orders to advance came.
It was not very dark, though it was about midnight, for the moon shone
brightly, and now the battleship had brought to bear on the scene all
her powerful searchlights.
"Forward and at 'em!" came the command. "Protect the Americans!"
Snarling cries came in answer from the revolutionists. But they did not
give way at once, though they must have realized that they were about to
be attacked by some of the best-trained fighting men in the world, and
some of the bravest--the United States blue-jackets.
The crack of guns, which had ceased for a moment, now began again more
spitefully than before. The two parties in the riot were firing at one
another, and bullets began to sing over the heads of the battleship
boys. Instinctively several ducked. Others laughed.
"You needn't duck," some one near Frank called. "When you hear the
bullet it's past you."
"Forward! Forward!" came the cries.
"Over this way!" a voice shouted in English. "Over this way, battleship
boys! They're beating us back!"
It was a cry for help from those being attacked by the rioters.
Ned and Frank found themselves in a division that was being led off to
one side for a flank attack. The hearts of both lads were beating
violently. It was the first time they had ever been under fire, and for
the first time they were about to fire a shot at a human being. It was a
strange feeling, but they felt that right was on their side. And they
were going to save the lives of fellow citizens who were being attacked
by a foreign mob.
"It's just like a football rush!" cried Ned in Frank's ear. He had to
shout to be heard above the crack of the rifles.
"Come on! Come on!" yelled back Frank, just as he might have done had he
and Ned been carrying the ball down the field.
As yet, though the hum and whine of bullets was almost constant in the
air, none of the battleship force had been hit, as far as was known. But
suddenly a lad in the ranks behind Frank and Ned gave a convulsive cry
and fell to the ground.
"They got me!" he cried. "It's only in the leg, though," he added an
instant later. "Go on, boys, and give 'em one for me!"
"Three cheers for Wright!" some one called. And they were heartily
given, but the advance did not halt.
On rushed the battleship boys toward the mass of rioting revolutionists.
They had swung around now, to attack them in the rear and to one side.
"Halt!" came the order from the lieutenant leading the advance. "Ready!
Aim! Fire over their heads!"
He wanted, if possible, to quell the riot without taking life. A volley
crashed out, and there came a return fire from the revolutionists.
Several of the men from the _Georgetown_ fell. Something like a shout of
anger ran through the ranks.
"Fire low!" yelled the lieutenant. This time there was a different
story. Ned and Frank could not see at whom they were shooting, because
they were now in some of the water front streets of the capital and the
buildings cast shadows. They could see, however, a dark mass of humanity
before them, and at this they and the others fired. A number were seen
to fall, and then the tide of battle suddenly turned.
With howls of fear in their foreign tongue the revolutionists turned and
fled. They had had enough in one volley from the rifles of the
battleship's force. It was an easily won victory--for the time being.
"Come on! After 'em!" yelled Ned, eager for the fray.
"Halt! Hold on! No pursuit! We merely want to stop the riot, and have no
wish to inflict punishment," said the lieutenant. "We'll hold the ground
here for a time. Now, who are hurt?"
A number had received bullet wounds, it developed, though none was
necessarily fatal. Some were incapacitated through wounds in legs or
arms, and these were quickly sent to the rear to be transported to the
ship for treatment. Sentries were posted, and a little later some of the
Americans in whose interests the battleship force had been landed came
up. They had guns, and had been fighting against the revolutionists with
the friendly citizens. They reported that the revolutionary force had
retreated to the hills back of the city.
"Is that where the revolutionists have their headquarters?" asked Frank
of one American, who said he owned a large coffee warehouse in front of
which the battleship boys were standing.
"Yes, in between those two hills."
"So that's why we fired at them," said Frank in a low voice to Ned. "It
was to scare them out."
"Only it didn't; or, rather, it brought them into town," Ned replied.
The American business man, who said his name was Paige Kennedy, stated
that he had large interests in Uridio, as had many of his American
friends, and that these interests were seriously threatened by the
revolutionists.
He opened his coffee warehouse and switched on the lights, inviting the
squad of men from the battleship to make the place their headquarters.
This the lieutenant who led the force including Frank and Ned was glad
to do. The wounded had been sent to the ship. Off in different parts of
the city the sound of firing could be heard, the peculiar crack of the
rifles carried by the blue-jackets being easily distinguished. It was
evident that not all the squads of fighting revolutionists had been as
easily dispersed as had the one our friends encountered.
"But what's it all about--why did they attack the Americans here?" asked
Frank of Mr. Kennedy.
"Well, it's quite a political tangle--the whole business," he said. "To
explain briefly I will say that there are here two parties, each one
trying to get the controlling power. We Americans established ourselves
under the present ruling party, and they treated us well. In fact we are
making lots of money. I guess it's the money--our money, our factories
and warehouses--that the revolutionists are after.
"Of course, we stood up for our rights, naturally, and the citizens'
party, as I call the present ruling one, to distinguish it from the
revolutionists, stood by us. We heard talk some time ago that we
Americans were to be driven out of this republic, so we appealed to the
Washington authorities for help. We are glad to see that it arrived in
time.
"There has been fighting before this, but it did not amount to much.
This attack planned for to-night, and of which we had word in time to
prepare, in some measure, is the beginning of the effort to drive us
out."
"Well, they won't drive you now," said the lieutenant. "Arden--Frank," he
said, to distinguish the two brothers, "Arden, find Sergeant Wherry and
tell him I want him to take a message for me."
"Yes, sir," answered Frank, saluting. Mr. Kennedy looked up suddenly.
"Excuse me," he said, "but did I hear you call some one Arden?"
"Yes," the lieutenant replied. "I have two brothers in my squad
to-night, Frank and Ned Arden," and he indicated them. Frank paused a
moment.
"Are you, by any chance, related to a Mr. Philip Arden of Ipswhich, Long
Island," went on the coffee man.
"He's our uncle" exclaimed Ned, impulsively. "Do you know him?"
"Well, I should say I do!" was the unexpected answer. "I have been
looking after some of his interests down here--that is, I was until he
was cheated out of them. What has become of him? I have been wondering
why he didn't do something to protect his property, and straighten
matters out. Where is he?"
"In the federal prison at Atlanta," replied Frank.
"In prison?"
"Yes. He is charged with inciting some revolution down here, and his
property in Ipswhich was confiscated, as well as his fortune and ours
down here. Claims for damages were filed against him, and he was
unjustly convicted. Friends are now trying to reopen the case."
"Oh! So that's how the matter lies!" exclaimed Mr. Kennedy. "Well, I
want to tell you boys, right now, that your uncle had no more to do with
this revolution down here than I did. But I see the game now. It's that
rascal of a Bernardo and his crowd. Why say, I understand now! Bernardo
is one of the revolutionists!" he cried. "And he gave this false
information against your uncle to cover his own crimes and those of his
helpers. It's a plot to ruin your uncle! Say, you boys have just come in
time!
"If this revolution can be put down, and you can get Bernardo and his
rascals into your hands, you may be able to get evidence to clear your
uncle and free him. If only you can stop the revolution!"
"Oh, we'll stop it all right," said the lieutenant, significantly.
"Arden, you needn't go on that errand. I'll send some one else. I didn't
know you were so concerned in this matter. You stay and have a talk with
Mr. Kennedy for it is possible that he might help you quite a good deal.
I'll relieve you and your brother from further duty to-night, unless
there is more fighting."
"Thank you, sir," answered both boys, and saluting they departed.