Two Boys of the Battleship: or, For the Honor of Uncle Sam

CHAPTER XVIII – BIG GUNS BOOM

“What’s the idea of taking after that craft, I wonder?” remarked Ned, when it became certain that the chase was on.

“Give it up,” answered Frank, “unless the old man wants to throw a scare into those revolutionists.”

“I guess that’s it,” chuckled Tom Dawson. “We’ll take their navy away from ’em, and then they can’t do anything.”

“They couldn’t do anything anyhow, with that dinky little craft against the Georgetown,” boasted Hank Dell.

“Don’t you fool yourself, son, and let that idea get away with you,” came from an older blue-jacket. “A little craft like that may have a torpedo tube or two concealed about her, and if she lets a Whitehead go at us, and it hits – good-night! as the boys say.”

The others knew that he spoke the truth. A single torpedo, with its 200-pound explosive charge of the terrible gun cotton, can render helpless the greatest battleship in the world if the hole is blown in the right place below the waterline. And this indisputable fact has caused many nations, our own included, to doubt the wisdom of building so many big, heavily-armored and expensive ships. Many well-informed persons favor the development of a navy of submarines, which are becoming more and more efficient each year. They cost only a fraction as much as a battleship or cruiser, and can successfully cope with the larger craft.

“I wonder what a warship of the Uridian revolutionists is doing out here, anyhow?” went on Ned, as he and his friends watched the other craft which was endeavoring to escape.

“Probably scouting along the coast to see if it can capture anything,” suggested Frank. “The treasury of the revolutionists may be at low ebb, and they may hope to replenish it.”

“That’s what they’ve been doing, with your money and mine and Uncle Phil’s,” remarked his brother in a low voice. “I wish the Georgetown would help to get some of it back for us.”

“Maybe she will,” Frank murmured. They had followed their plan of not telling their shipmates the peculiar situation which had led them to enlist.

Everyone who could get a vantage point, and was not obliged to be at other duties, was watching the chase. The battleship was running under forced draft, and Ned and Frank were very thankful that they were not coal-passers, or firemen. For the temperature in the stokehole of a battleship, when forced draft is being used, is about the highest in the world.

Still everything possible is done to make the men comfortable, and they only work in short shifts, changing frequently, and receive the best of medical treatment and advice if they are temporarily overcome, as often happens. But word had gone into the engine room that the Georgetown was really making her first race after what might be considered a hostile craft, and the coal-passers and firemen stuck to their tasks with great grit, determined to make their craft do her best.

So through the sea plowed the great battleship, an immense wave piling up on either bow as she pushed her way along driven by the powerful engines deep in her interior.

“We don’t seem to be catching up very fast,” observed Frank.

“No, that little craft is showing a clean pair of heels,” agreed Ned. “We aren’t built for speed, anyhow.”

This was true enough, though for her size the Georgetown was one of the fastest battleships afloat. Still a smaller boat which did not meet with so much resistance going through the water, could get away with comparative ease. And it looked as if this was what was going to happen.

“Why don’t we fire a shot at her?” murmured Tom Dawson.

“We can’t very well put one across her bows when we’re dead astern,” commented Ned. “And if we fire any other way we’re likely to hit her.”

“Which I suppose we haven’t a right to do,” observed Frank. “We aren’t at war with Uridio. It’s only that we aren’t going to let her revolutionists do things to our citizens.”

But it was evident that something was going to be done, for there sounded, a little later, the order for clearing the ship for action. With cheers the men sprang to their stations, Ned and Frank going to the big gun turret, though it was hardly possible the great guns would be used on so small an opponent.

The decks were quickly cleared, and preparations made for all emergencies. The captain seemed to have taken into consideration the same idea that the sailor had given voice to – namely, that a torpedo might be launched against the Georgetown. He was going to take no chances, and even the boats were gotten ready for a quick launching if it should prove necessary.

“Fire one shot at her, to starboard from a three-inch gun,” was the order that came a little later. And with a yell of delight, not from bloodthirstiness, but at the chance for action, the crew of that gun sprang to obey.

“I wish we had a chance,” murmured Ned, regretfully, as he stood at the ammunition hoist in the big turret.

“Say, if one of these projectiles hit that ship there wouldn’t be a thing left,” said Frank.

“No, I reckon not. Well, maybe our chance will come later.”

With a dull boom the smaller gun sent out a projectile that carried a small explosive charge. It was aimed to strike far enough to one side of the escaping craft to do no damage.

Into the sea splashed the shell, and as it burst it sent a column of water high into the air.

“That’s a notification to them to slow down and let us come up to them,” said Frank.

“I wonder if they will,” came from Ned.

The issue was not long in doubt. From the stern of the smaller boat there shot out a puff of smoke, and then came a dull report. A small object was seen speeding toward the Georgetown.

“They’re trying to torpedo us!” shouted Ned, looking from the forward turret.

“That’s no torpedo,” one of the more experienced sailors said. “It’s only a small projectile, and it’s going to fall short.”

A moment later events proved that he was right, for the shell fell into the sea five hundred yards from the battleship, and a spray of water flashed into the air.

“Guess her guns haven’t much power,” said Frank.

“But she shows, by firing back at us, that she isn’t going to pull up and let us investigate her, I think,” remarked Ned. This was the case, for the other craft, the name of which was not visible, kept on at an undiminished speed. She was rapidly leaving the Georgetown behind, and soon the commander of the latter gave up the chase. He did not want to waste his coal, or run the risk of burning out bearings, or breaking a shaft, merely to capture a craft so small as the one flying the Uridian flag of the revolutionists.

“We can attend to her case later, if she comes monkeying around when we’re anchored off that banana republic,” observed Hank, and the others agreed with him.

Gradually the escaping craft drew away, until only her smoke could be seen on the horizon. It was the general opinion, afterward, that the vessel had been scouting around, perhaps to get sight of the approach of the United States’ war craft, and having seen her, had made haste to run and bring the word to the land forces. Just what the outcome would be no one knew.

It was two days later when the Georgetown came to anchor off the city of Pectelo, which was the seacoast capital of Uridio. As the big chains rattled through the hawse pipes, a boat was lowered away, and Captain Decker and some of his officers went ashore to learn what the situation was.

What took place ashore was not made public to the ship’s crew when the cutter returned. But a grave look was observed on the faces of the captain and his officers.

Everyone on the Georgetown waited eagerly for the next move. It was not long in coming.

“Man the forward turret!” came the command. “To your stations, men. We’re going to give them a demonstration!”

“Hurrah!” cried Ned.

“It’s our gun that’s going to be fired!” exulted Frank.

Like clockwork the men in the turret prepared for the work ahead of them. Frank took his place at the firing trigger, and waited for the range.

“Sight her at ten thousand yards,” came the command. “Aim at that hill back of the town. We’re going to blow it apart!”

“Aye, aye, sir!” Frank answered.

“Fire!” came the command.

“Fire she is!” echoed Frank.

And the big gun boomed.

CHAPTER XIX – ASHORE

The great ship trembled with the vibration of the immense gun, and when the smoke had cleared away and the gases been blown from the cannon by the compressed air, Ned looked out of the turret, which had not been completely closed on account of the heat, and cried:

“A hit, Frank! A hit!”

What he saw was a cloud of dust flung into the air, and slowly drifting about in the wind.

“Well, I couldn’t very well help hitting that,” said Frank. “It was a big enough target, and it was stationary and so were we.”

As yet none but the officer who had given the direction for the training of the big gun, and his superiors, knew why the hill had been shattered by the shot.

“Another shell, sir?” asked the blue-jacket who, with Ned and some others, had charge of the ammunition hoist.

“No, not from this turret. We’re going to fire another, but from the after one.”

Frank and his mates were a little regretful, for there is a wonderful fascination about working the big guns. But still he did not want to monopolize all the glory, if such it can be called.

So Frank’s crew cleaned the immense gun to have it in readiness for use when it would again be needed, and went back to their usual positions. A little later there was another terrific report, as the second fifteen-inch gun in the after turret sent a second 1500-pound projectile toward another hill back of Pectelo.

This time Ned and Frank and some of their friends had a good view of the flight of the shell as it sped on its mission of destruction, if not death. They were out of the turret now. Screeching through the air went the projectile. It struck the hill squarely, the gun being aimed as well as had the one Frank served.

An instant later there was a veritable fountain of earth and stones sent into the air, and then dust hid the scene from view.

“I wonder what the game is, firing at those hills?” questioned Ned.

“Maybe just to give the revolutionists a scare,“ suggested his brother.

“Sort of expensive scaring,” commented Tom Dawson.

“Well, we’ll know in good time, I guess,” was the opinion of Hank Dell.

The effect of the two big projectiles, other than that the tops of the hills had been smashed, was not discernible from on board the Georgetown.

But there was no mistaking the effect on the populace of the capital of the little republic. Through glasses Frank and Ned could notice wild excitement in the public square which came down to the water’s edge. Men, women and children seemed to be rushing about without any special object in view.

“Maybe they think we’ll bombard the town next,” Ned suggested.

“The old man wouldn’t do that,” declared Frank. “It isn’t a fortified city, and by the rules of civilized warfare an unfortified town can not be bombarded.”

“That doesn’t always hold – not in the European war,” said a sailor. “But the people here needn’t worry. We won’t send any shells among ’em. Why, we could take the whole place without using anything larger than one-pounders,” he boasted.

“I wish I knew what it was all about,” Frank said, and he wondered whether there would be a chance for him and his brother to go on shore and make some inquiries about their own and their uncle’s fortunes.

“Though if this battleship is going to shoot up the place after the inhabitants get out, I guess our chances for saving any of that money will be pretty slim,” he reasoned.

“I guess so, too,” assented Ned. “I wonder what the situation is, anyhow?”

But they continued to wonder, as no word came from the captain or other officers regarding the situation in Uridio. That it was momentous might be guessed from the fact that the commander and his officers still had serious looks on their faces.

When the second gun had been cleaned after the one shot, and all made ready for quick action, if need be, there was a period of waiting. Then a few small boats put out from the town and approached the Georgetown.

Those in them seemed somewhat in doubt as to the reception they might meet with, and it was noticed that all of them carried the national flag of the little republic, and in addition a peculiar banner, made in pennant shape, and colored red, white and green.

“I wonder what that flag is; revolutionary?” asked Hank.

“No, not if the cruiser that escaped from us was the navy of the revolutionists,” Frank remarked. “Their flag wasn’t the same shape or color as the flag on these boats. I guess these folks must belong to the party that is fighting the revolutionists.”

And this, later, they found to be the case. And as it was against the revolutionists that the battleship had come to make a demonstration, the other side was to be made welcome.

None from the battleship was allowed on board, however, and no shore leave was granted that first day or night. No one who has not been kept on board a vessel for several weeks, knows what a longing there is to go ashore, especially when it is within viewing distance.

But orders had been issued, and no one was allowed to leave. Many of the natives brought out fruit in their boats, and this was very welcome to the sailors. A brisk trade wind was soon under way. Uridian seemed to be a sort of Portuguese, that being the language of Brazil.

Toward evening a small launch containing some of the native officials came up to the battleship. There was an exchange of signals, and a ladder was lowered, a number of the dark-skinned, but brilliantly uniformed, Uridian officials coming on board. They were taken to the captain’s cabin, where a conference was held.

“A whole lot of mystery about this,” commented Hank Dell.

“Oh, I guess we’ll find out about it in due time,” Frank said.

“Double the number of sentries on guard tonight,” was an order Frank overheard after supper had been served, and the crew prepared to take their ease before turning in. “And instruct everyone of them to be unusually watchful.”

“Is something likely to happen?” asked the officer who had received this order.

“There is no telling. A rumor is afloat that the cruiser we chased is coming back. And she does carry torpedo tubes. That much is certain.”

“Well, as long as they haven’t a submarine it will be pretty easy to spot them.”

“Yes, but take no chances.”

It may well be imagined that a spirit of uneasiness and anxiety was aboard the Georgetown that night. An attack in the open is one thing, but watching for the unexpected, especially when it may be a torpedo that will rend the stoutest battleship in an instant, is very different, and it gets on the nerves of even the bravest.

It is said that in the present European war the continual fear on the part of the men of the different fleets that their craft may be torpedoed so works on their nerves that some of them go insane. There is no rest day or night, and even the most careful watching can not be depended on to guard against the danger. A submarine gives very little evidence of its approach.

Of course, in this case no such danger was to be apprehended, but no chances were being taken.

So after the Uridian officials had departed, double sentries were posted at all stations aboard, and the men were told to be on the watch for the approach of any craft, or for any unusual disturbance in the water.

“It’s a heap more fun to read about a condition like this than to actually have to take part in it,” remarked Frank, as he went on duty. He had an early “trick,” but Ned had to get out of his hammock at two o’clock in the morning to go on guard duty.

However, the night was pleasant and not too warm, and after Ned was fully awake he did not so much mind it. He paced up and down his part of the deck, with ready rifle, on the alert to challenge and fire if he saw anything suspicious.

Off about a mile lay the town, only a few lights showing. Ned wondered how many Americans were there, and if they were in any danger. He wondered, too, just how and where his own and his brother’s fortunes were invested, and what the chances were for recovering them. It was very still and quiet, save for the occasional footfall of some of the other sentries, or the little talk that went on as the guards were changed.

Ned was beginning to get sleepy again, in spite of the fact that he walked to and fro. His gun was feeling heavy. He wondered, after all, if there was any need of all this precaution.

Suddenly he thought he heard, in the water just below him, a slight commotion. At once his heart began to beat violently. Suppose it should prove to be a submarine after all. Or an automatic torpedo, which would presently burst and send them to the bottom. How had it gotten so near without his having heard or seen it? And there was, all about the Georgetown, a torpedo net, let down over the side to prevent the deadly missiles from hitting the ship’s plates!

Ned leaned over. Yes, something was moving in the water. He brought his rifle to bear, and was about to fire and give the alarm, when a searchlight was suddenly turned full on the very spot where there was a ripple in the calm surface of the sea.

Then there came a swish, and a flurry, and in the gleam of the powerful light Ned saw that it was a school of fish which had probably gathered near the battleship to feed on the scraps the cooks tossed overboard.

“Ha! That’s a good one on me!” Ned mused. “I’m glad I didn’t give any alarm.”

The sentry in charge of the searchlight said he had also heard the commotion in the water, and that was why he switched on the light. Of course the officer in charge of the sentries saw the light and had to be told why it was turned on. But there the incident ended.

“Shore leave will be granted!” was the unexpected order that was issued next day, the night having passed without accident.

“Hurrah!” cried Frank.

“Great!” echoed Ned. “Now we’ll have a chance to see what this country looks like, and we may find out something about the missing fortunes.”

Our heroes were among the first to be granted permission to land, and soon they were speeding toward the town in cutters. There were only a few small piers in what was a very small harbor, and not well protected at that, so the battleship had to anchor out. Up to the public pier raced the cutters, and out on shore leaped the eager sailors.

CHAPTER XX – THE RIOT

“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.