"Aye, aye, sir."

A moment later ten jackies were retreating. They gained the sugar mill, and pa.s.sed it.

"Hicks," called Ensign Darrin, "get your party aboard. Run for it!"

"Aye, aye, sir."

"And help this wounded man back to the launch."

The sailor, who had been carrying the second wounded man, turned him over to Hicks, who carried his burden manfully.

Dave continued to retreat more slowly with his fighting force, taking frequent observations rearward. From the hedge a few, sniping shots came now and then, but, as no one was. .h.i.t, Darrin did not allow the fire to be returned.

Suddenly, three hundred yards away, a volley crashed out on the right.

"Flanked!" muttered Darrin, grimly, as Riley threw his men into line to meet the new attack. "I expected it. Aim two feet above the ground, men, and fire at will until you have emptied your magazines twice."

Down by the launch, and not thirty feet from the wharf, stood Corporal Ross with his marines and the Colt machine gun. The marines were wild to join in the firing, but would not do so until ordered. Darrin was loath to let them draw the enemy's fire until the women had been made as safe as possible on the launch.

As the American firing ceased, Dave called the order:

"Load magazines, but reserve fire. Rush three hundred feet closer to the wharf and then halt and form again."

This move was carried out, but a third sailor dropped wounded.

As a lull came in the firing, Ensign Darrin blew a signal on his whistle. In response, two marines came sprinting to the spot.

"Take this wounded man to the launch," Darrin ordered.

"Corporal Ross hopes, sir, you'll soon give him leave to turn the machine gun loose," one of the marines suggested respectfully.

"I'll give the order as soon as the time comes," Darrin promised.

"Tell Corporal Ross that one flash from my pocket lamp will mean 'open fire,' and that two flashes will mean 'cease firing.'

"Very good, sir."

The wounded man was borne away. Again Dave attempted a rush, then reformed his men, this time not more than two hundred and fifty feet from the stern of the launch.

"Riley!"

"Aye, aye, sir!"

"You will take command here. I must see to the safety of our pa.s.sengers."

"Aye, aye, sir."

"Fire when you think best, but do not let the men waste ammunition.

We have but a hundred rounds apiece."

"I know it, sir."

Then Dave dashed down to the wharf, just before which stood Corporal Ross looking the picture of disappointment. He had hoped for permission to open fire.

Ensign Darrin and John Carmody ran to the launch together. Aided by c.o.xswain Schmidt, Hicks had done his work well, placing the women and children flat along the bottom of the craft, where they were little likely to be found by flying bullets.

Again the fire had slackened. Dave stood with the marines, peering into the blackness beyond.

"Can't you call in your party and make a quick dash down the lagoon?" inquired John Carmody, approaching, a rifle still gripped by one hand and a cartridge-belt thrown over one shoulder.

"We can't travel fast in the lagoon, sir," Dave answered, "and Cosetta's men can run as fast along the sh.o.r.e, keeping up a fire that would be more deadly when we're crowded together aboard the launch. I want to silence the scoundrel's fire, if possible, before we try the dash out into the Gulf."

"You appear to have discouraged the men who flanked you," said Mr. Carmody, looking towards the sh.o.r.e.

"Yes, sir; but, judging by the rifle flashes there were not more than twenty men in that flanking party. We still have to hear from another body, and I believe they are hiding in the mill, ready to snipe us from there. Besides, probably a smaller party has been sent from the flankers to lie in wait and get us as we go through the lagoon. It's a bad trap, Mr. Carmody, and we must move slowly, if we wish to get away with our lives."

While they stood watching, Riley's handful of men came running to the spot.

At the same moment shots rang out from the roof of the sugar mill.

"There we are!" Darrin exclaimed. "And men on a roof are the hardest to hit."

In a jiffy a yell rose from the flankers, who now rose and came charging forward across some four hundred feet of intervening s.p.a.ce.

"Give 'em the Colt, Corporal!" Ensign Darrin roared.

There was a yell of rage from the Mexicans as the machine gun barked forth. With the muzzle describing an arc of several degrees, many of the flankers were hit. The others threw themselves flat on the ground to escape its destructive fire.

From the mill another score of charging Mexicans had started, yelling in Spanish:

"Death to the Gringos."

Leaping forward, Darrin felt a sudden sting of pain in his right foot. A bullet, sent in low, had ripped the sole of his shoe, inflicting a painful wound.

"Cease firing, Corporal!" Dave ordered, hobbling to the machine gun. "Swing her nose around. Now, give it to 'em."

As the machine gun barked forth again the raiders from the mill found good excuse for halting. There are times when a machine gun is worth a battalion of infantry.

Yet one bullet is enough to kill a man. A marine fell at Dave's feet. The young ensign bent over him; one look was enough to prove that this defender of his countrymen was dead.

As the fire from the machine gun ceased, a wild cheer rose on the air. Now, from four different points groups of Mexicans rose and charged, firing as they ran.

One desperate dash, and they would overwhelm the crippled little Navy party.

Defeat for Dave Darrin's command meant the ma.s.sacre of all the survivors of his rescue party, and of the American men and women in their care!

Ensign Dave Darrin realized this with a sickening heart.