CONCLUSION
It's the thought that can take shape in the hundredth part of a
second that saves human life at such a crisis.
The instant he felt the hand at his throat there flashed into
Dave's mind a sailor's trick that had come to him, indirectly,
from Japan.
Clasping both of his own hands inside of Cantor's arm, and holding
both arms rigidly, Darrin rolled himself over sideways with such
force as to send the traitor sprawling.
Dave got to his feet with the speed of desperation that rules when
one is in danger.
Yet the traitor was hardly a whit behind him in rising.
Crouching low, with the knife in his hand, Cantor watched his
chance to spring.
Ensign Dave's revolver lay on the ground. To take the second
needed to recover the weapon would cost him his life at the point
of the knife.
Cosetta, lying desperately wounded, tried to crawl over the ground
a few feet in order to reach his own pistol.
"Take it!" hissed Cantor, leaping forward, panther-like, and making
a sudden lunge.
Throwing up his left arm to ward off the weapon, Dave felt the
sharp sting of steel in his forearm.
Heedless of his wound, Dave, with his right hand, gripped the
wrist of the traitor.
It was a struggle, now, of trained athletes. Each used his left
hand in struggling for the advantage, watching, warily, also,
for a chance to use his feet or knees.
On the other side of the house the firing still continued.
Neither Dave nor his antagonist spoke. Silently they battled,
until both went to the ground.
Though Dave might have won with his fists, Cantor's superior weight
and muscle counted in this deadly clinch. And now Darrin found
himself lying with both shoulders touching, while Cantor, kneeling
over him, fought to free his knife hand for the final thrust.
On the ground beyond, through the hail of fire from their own
comrades, wriggled Riley and two sailormen. The instant they
neared the corner of the house all three leaped to their feet,
dashing to the aid of their young officer.
"Don't shoot, Riley!" panted Ensign Dave Darrin. "Stun him!"
In a twinkling Riley reversed his clutch on his aimed rifle, bringing
down the butt across the traitor's head. Cantor rolled over.
"Shall I wind up this Greaser, sir?" asked one of the sailormen,
thrusting the muzzle of his rifle against Cosetta's breast.
"No!" Dave commanded, sharply. "We don't kill when we can take
prisoners."
So the seaman contented himself with standing guard over the wounded
brigand.
Suddenly the machine gun began to rip into the ranks of the bandits
in front of the house. An instant later a dozen sailors whom
Riley had left behind reached the flanking position for which
they had rushed, and began pouring in a raking fire on the bandits.
Assailed from two sides Cosetta's now leaderless band broke in
wild confusion, and fled, leaving behind many dead and wounded.
Quickly Trent surrounded the house, but there was no one inside.
And then Trout came upon his subordinate.
"Why, Darrin, you're hurt!" he cried, pointing to Dave's left arm.
As the firing died out Dave glanced down at his sleeve.
"Off with your blouse!" spoke the lieutenant, in a tone of command.
Riley helped to remove the blouse, meanwhile explaining:
"We didn't crawl all the way to you, sir. We ran until we got
into a hail of bullets from our own messmates. Then, sir, that
we might reach you, we threw ourselves down and crawled a few yards."
"Riley," declared Dave, heartily, "you're as good a man as there
is in the United States Navy!"
Whereat the petty officer fairly blushed with pride.
"All our men are so good," added Trent, genially, "that it's a
difficult task to pick the best."
The surviving bandits had fled. Trent's orders forbade pursuing
beyond the house. So, while Riley and Dave were examining the
deep wound in the latter's forearm, Trent gave orders to bury
the dead in shallow graves and to pick up the wounded for removal
to Vera Cruz.
Immediately upon returning to the advanced line Dave was ordered
back to the "_Long Island_" for prompt surgical treatment. Though
his wound was not dangerous, in itself, the climate of Vera Cruz
is one in which there is the gravest danger of blood-poisoning
setting in in any wound.
The day after that, duty on shore being lighter, and officers
being needed aboard, Danny Grin was ordered back to ship duty,
while Lieutenant Trent remained ashore with his detachment.
Having broken arrest, Cantor, on being returned to ship, was placed
behind the steel bars of the ship's brig. There was no further
escape for him. But his brother officers sighed their relief
when a board of surgeons declared Lieutenant Cantor to be hopelessly
insane, and expressed their opinion that he had been in that unfortunate
mental condition for at least some weeks. That removed the taint
of treason from the "_Long Island's_" ward-room, as an insane man
is never held responsible for his wrong acts.
It was gambling to excess, and the fear of being dropped from the
Navy Register, that had caused the wreck of Cantor's mind. He is
now properly confined in an asylum.
Mrs. Black had not left Vera Cruz, but still lingered on one of
the refugee ships in the harbor, where the Denmans found her.
Mrs. Black was a widow who devoted her time and her wealth to
missionary work in Mexico. Dave learned to his surprise that
she was the daughter of Jason Denman, and a sister of the girl
whom Dave had served so signally in New York.
Mr. Denman, who was a wealthy resident of an Ohio town, had extensive
mining interests in Mexico, and had gone there to look after them,
leaving Miss Denman and her mother in New York. Cantor, who had
first met the Denmans in Ohio, when on recruiting duty in that
state, had planned to make Miss Denman his wife for purely mercenary
reasons. He had struggled to overcome his gaming mania, and had
planned that once Miss Denman became his wife her money should
be used to pay his gaming debts and free him from the claims of
the vice.
But Mr. Denman, with the insight of a wise man, had discouraged
the suit.
In New York, before the "_Long Island_" had sailed, Cantor had
met young Tom Denman in a gambling resort. Plying the young man
with liquor, Cantor had persuaded the young man, when unconscious
of what he was doing, to forge a banker's name to two checks,
which Cantor had persuaded an acquaintance of his to cash. Of
course the checks had been refused payment at the bank, but the
man who had cashed them had disappeared.
Cantor had offered to save young Tom Denman. Without involving
himself Cantor could have testified that the young man was all
but unconscious, and without knowledge of his act, when he "forged"
the cheeks.
The bank that had been deceived into cashing the checks before
they were forwarded to the bank upon which they were drawn, had
located Tom Denman easily enough. Tom would have been arrested,
but Mrs. Denman promptly applied to a great detective agency,
which quickly established the young man's mental condition at
the of "forging" the checks. Moreover, Mrs. Denman, after cabling
her husband for authority to use his funds, had made good the
loss to the bank. Then mother, daughter and son had journeyed
hastily to Vera Cruz, that the boy might be under his father's eye.
That one lesson was enough for Tom Denman. He has never strayed
since.
As to the theft of his landing plan, Captain Gales afterward explained
to several of his officers that no such theft had ever taken place.
"You recall, gentlemen," the captain explained, "that I
referred to the envelope which had contained the plans. And I
then stated that the envelope which had contained the plans had
disappeared. You will also remember, perhaps that I didn't state
that the plans themselves were gone, for they rested in my safe,
and are there at this moment. Acting that afternoon on an impulse
that I did not very well understand, I took the landing plans
from their envelope and filled the envelope with blank paper after
having put the plans in the safe.
"Cantor had knowledge of the envelope, and supposed, as any one
would have done, that the plans were inside. When my back was
turned for an instant Cantor took the envelope, which I did not
immediately miss, as I had no idea that any of my officers was
untrustworthy. Cantor hurried to his own quarters, and there
discovered the blank paper substitution. Furious, yet hating
Darrin for reasons which you now understand, Cantor hastened to
Darrin's room and slipped the envelope in under Darrin's mattress.
Cantor has admitted it to me---whatever the word of an adjudged
lunatic may be worth poor fellow!
"Now, as to Cantor's need of money, he was overwhelmed with gambling
debts in New York. Some wild fancy told him that he could win
money enough in Vera Cruz to pay his debts at home. He secured
leave and went ashore. In a gaming house there he lost all his
money, but still fought on against the game when he found that
his signature would be accepted. He plunged heavily, soon rising
from the table owing thirty thousand dollars to the house. Then
Cosetta, who was a silent partner of the house, noting the lieutenant's
despair, led him aside and cunningly informed him that he could
have all his notes back if he could only secure the authoritative
plans of the American landing. Cosetta, who had been a bandit
for many years, and who feared the time would come when his appearance
in Vera Cruz would be followed by arrest and execution, wanted
to turn the landing plans over to General Maas, the Mexican commander
here. Imagine the temptation to Cantor when he thought he had
the plans in his own hands!
"Cantor afterwards secured my permission to go ashore in civilian
garb, on the plea that he had urgent private business. As the
landing had been made, I permitted him to go. I have since discovered
that Cantor had word of the Denmans being in Vera Cruz. Cosetta
found the family for him, and Cantor made one last, desperate
plea for Miss Denman's hand. He was obliged to urge his suit
through the open window of the house. Then, when Mr. Denman sternly
refused to listen to him, Cosetta tried to kill Mr. Denman and
his son, intending to abduct Miss Denman and to force her to marry
Cantor.
"Cosetta died this morning. He had hoped to become at least a
colonel in Huerta's army. Cantor did not know Cosetta until that
chance meeting took place in the gambling house."
A week later, Dave Darrin, his wound now almost healed, stood
on the bridge of the "_Long Island_," Danny Grin at his side.
They had just watched the landing of the last boatloads of General
Funston's regulars.
"I believe that winds up the Navy's chapter at Vera Cruz, Danny,"
said Ensign Darrin. "The rest of it, if there is going to be
any 'rest,' will belong to the Army."
"We had an interesting time while it lasted," declared Dalzell,
with a broad grin.
"There is a world full of interesting times ahead of us. We'll
find time in every quarter of the globe. Isn't that so, Gunner's
Mate Riley?" he demanded of the former coxswain, who, promoted
that day, now stepped upon the bridge saluting, to show proudly
on his sleeve the badge of his new rating.
Whether Darrin's prediction was realized will be discovered in
the pages of the next volume of this series, which will be published
shortly under the title, "_Dave Darrin on Mediterranean Service;
Or, With Dan Dalzell on European Duty_."
In this forthcoming volume we shall encounter an amazing tale
of an American naval officer's life and duties abroad, and we
are likely, too, to hear from Lieutenant Trent and other good
fellows from the ward-rooms and from the forecastles of our splendid
Navy.