The Blue Grass Seminary Girls on the Water Part 30

"And come to fulfill his promise, I guess," agreed d.i.c.k quietly.

"Run!" cried Shirley.

"What's the use?" asked d.i.c.k. "He has a gun."

It was true. In the hands of the defeated revolutionary leader was a revolver of heavy caliber, and he flourished it as he came toward them.

d.i.c.k turned to Shirley.

"You get back out of sight!" he commanded. "I can handle this fellow!"

Shirley protested.

"But-but,--" she began.

"Quick!" exclaimed d.i.c.k. "He is very angry and for that reason will be easier to handle. I don't believe he could hit a barn door now."

Shirley followed d.i.c.k's command and withdrew a short distance, although she was still in plain sight of the infuriated Nicaraguan.

Standing quietly, with his hands on his hips, d.i.c.k awaited the attack of the Nicaraguan. A full hundred yards away, but still running, the latter opened fire with his revolver.

"Good!" thought d.i.c.k to himself. "He can't hit me that way, and his sh.e.l.ls will soon be gone."

Five times Orizaba fired, and each time the bullet went wild.

Shirley, from her place of safety, watched the encounter breathlessly.

She stood with clenched fists and awaited the outcome of each shot anxiously.

A sixth time Orizaba's revolver spoke.

d.i.c.k staggered, and Shirley gave utterance to a scream, while a laugh of derision came from the Nicaraguan.

But the latter's mirth was destined to be short-lived. d.i.c.k, still with a smile on his face in spite of the dull pain in his left arm where Orizaba's last bullet had struck, stepped forward to meet his enemy in his mad rush.

They came together with a shock and tumbled to the ground, where Orizaba clawed desperately at d.i.c.k's face and eyes.

"So that's your game, eh?" muttered d.i.c.k to himself.

He protected his face with his injured arm, while with the uninjured one he rained a shower of blows upon the Nicaraguan's face. The latter soon tired of this and sprang to his feet. d.i.c.k also arose.

There was a cry of alarm from Shirley as Orizaba stepped back. His hand went to his belt, and a knife flashed in the air. But d.i.c.k, quick as a cat, gave him no time to use it.

He realized his danger in an instant and acted promptly. With a shout he sprang forward, and seized the upraised arm with his right hand. He twisted it fiercely, and the Nicaraguan gave a cry of pain as he released his hold on the knife and stepped back.

As he did so, d.i.c.k drove his right fist into his face, and General Orizaba tumbled to the ground, where he lay still.

At the same moment there was a cheer from close at hand and, turning, d.i.c.k saw a dozen marines who had gathered about to watch the contest.

Shirley came forward anxiously.

"Are you hurt d.i.c.k?" she asked.

"Not much, I guess," was the reply. "He winged me with the last shot, but I am sure it is nothing serious."

"He's all right," shouted one of the marines, as they gathered about him and congratulated him upon his fight.

Shirley turned on them angrily.

"And you stood off and left him to be killed," she exclaimed. "You ought to be ashamed of yourselves."

"Oh, we know he could handle that fellow," was the response, but the men looked at one another somewhat sheepishly.

Their reason for not interfering was perfectly apparent. They had enjoyed the spectacle of d.i.c.k and Orizaba locked in combat, and had felt morally certain d.i.c.k would come out on top.

"Just the same, he might have been badly hurt!" said Shirley, by no means convinced.

"Oh, they did all right," said d.i.c.k with a laugh. "Come Shirley, let's get back to the ship and I'll have the surgeon look at this arm."

"Are you hurt, Jack?" asked one of the men stepping forward.

"Bullet in the arm," was d.i.c.k's reply; and he added: "But my name is not Jack."

"Everybody is Jack to us," was the answer. "But had we known you were wounded we would have taken that fellow off your hands. Come on, there is Dr. Thomas over there."

d.i.c.k and Shirley followed the marines to where the surgeon was engaged in bandaging the wounds of an American sailor, the only man who had been touched by one of the enemy's bullets.

He bound d.i.c.k's arm up quickly, remarking that it would be as good as new in a day or two.

"Shirley!"

It was Mabel's voice, and turning, Shirley saw her chum rushing toward her. She ran to meet her and the greeting was affectionate.

"How dared you take such a chance, Mabel?" demanded Shirley.

"Well, somebody had to do it, and I was closest the horse," was the reply. "I knew they couldn't hit me."

"Nevertheless, it was a desperate risk," said d.i.c.k, who came up at that moment. "I expected to see your horse go tumbling."

"But how did you get aid so quickly?" demanded Shirley.

Mabel explained.

"And they made me go back when the fighting began," she continued. "I wanted to hunt you up immediately, but the lieutenant wouldn't let me."

"I should say not," declared d.i.c.k.

"Shirley was in danger. Why shouldn't I have been there?" demanded Mabel. "I saw d.i.c.k and the general fighting and I came forward as fast as I could," the girl continued, "and when I saw the Nicaraguan go down I knew our troubles were over."

"And where is Dad?" asked Shirley.