Uncle Sam's Boys as Sergeants Part 35

"Coming down, you----?" called the ruffian with an oath.

"No," responded Hal. "Coming up?"

"Come down, I tell you!"

"Some mistake," sneered Hal, still climbing. "I'm headed for the roof."

Below him he heard a threatening click as the bolt of the rifle was thrown back.

"Hey! Don't shoot the kid--yet," ordered another voice. "He'll come down when he sees what we can do to him. He hasn't any show."

So the fellow under the tree went back to join his six companions.

Dietz and Johnson were still holding up their hands. This fact was no reflection on their courage. They were trained fighting men, and had sense enough to realize when the enemy had "the drop" on them.

"You two soldiers," ordered the leader of the ruffians, "lie down on your faces and hold your hands behind your backs for tying."

Neither soldier, however, stirred as yet.

"You heard that, Sergeant?" called Dietz dryly.

"Yes," admitted Hal.

"What shall we do?"

"You fellows get down on your faces--flop!" broke in the leader of the ruffians. "That's what you'll do!"

"Will you be kind enough to shut up?" retorted Private Dietz coolly.

"We're taking our orders from the sergeant."

"Let him come down here and give the orders, then," jeered the leader of the invaders.

"You'd better give in, Dietz and Johnson," order Sergeant Hal. "You can't do anything and I don't want to see you killed."

"That's your order, then, is it, sergeant?" inquired Private Johnson.

"Yes; it can't be helped."

Dietz and Johnson, therefore, lay down as directed. Some of the scoundrels who were not armed busied themselves with tying the soldiers, and this work the miscreants did with a thoroughness that spoke eloquently of practice.

But the diversion gave Hal a chance to do something that had popped into his head at the instant when he had stepped back for the mirror.

The sun was still sufficiently high for him to catch the rays strongly on his small mirror.

Now, in the Army signaling work, one branch has to do with heliographing; that is, flashing a message by means of reflected rays of the sun's light.

Swiftly enough the young sergeant caught the flash, and found to his delight that he was able to throw a fairly long flash.

"Camp in hands of ruffians. Help quick!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Mirror Was Shot From Hal's Hand.]

Despite his tremendous excitement, Sergeant Overton endeavored to steady his right hand enough to enable him to send the message quite clearly.

Again and again he flashed the message, until one of the invaders, glancing up at the tree top, caught sight of the work that was going on.

"That kid's trying to send word to some one," guessed the leader. "Here, cub, hand me that rifle."

Crack!

Smash!

It was a true shot, though how much of it was due to luck Sergeant Hal could not surmise.

But the gla.s.s was shot from his hand, the splintered bits falling to the ground.

"Next shot for you, kid!" warned the marksman below.

"Yes?" mocked Overton.

"Surest thing in the world? Coming down, or shall I bring you down?"

Crack!

Hal drew his own weapon up, firing as the sight pa.s.sed the human target.

It was a close shot, the revolver bullet carrying away the fellow's cloth cap.

"I'm firing too high," spoke Hal as composedly as though he did not feel any excitement. "I'll fire for your belt line after this."

That was too much for the ruffian's composure. He turned, running in a zig-zag line.

So Hal held his fire, awaiting results for a moment. As he waited he felt for his revolver ammunition.

Then he made a sickening discovery. He had no revolver ammunition beyond the five cartridges remaining in the cylinder of his weapon.

As for the invaders, they had more than three hundred rounds of rifle ammunition now at their disposal.

And they had fled to cover, too, but now Sergeant Overton had the uncomfortable conviction that three rifles were trained on him.

"Now, come down out of that tree on the double quick!" commanded the leader of the invaders.

"My coming will suit myself only," boasted Hal in a tone conveying ten times the confidence that he felt.

"That shot of yours may start help this way," continued the leader threateningly. "We ain't going to take any chances. Start on the second, or we'll begin shooting, and keep it up until we tumble you out of that tree."

"You may fire whenever ready," mocked Hal. "Every shot you fire will be a signal that will make my friends come faster."