The Blue Grass Seminary Girls on the Water / Or, Exciting Adventures on a Summer Cruise Through the Panama Canal

Dick’s anger boiled up and he promptly sent his fist crashing into the general’s face, knocking him down.

The young man regretted this act the next moment, for he knew that probably he had brought matters to a crisis.

General Orizaba sprang to his feet and with a shout drew his revolver and covered Dick.

Shirley screamed. Then General Orizaba lowered his revolver.

“No, I won’t do it yet,” he said. “I promised you should see your countrymen defeated, and so you shall. I shall kill you later.”

“Thanks,” said Dick.

In spite of his apparent nonchalance, he breathed easier, however, for he had been at the point of death, and none knew it better than he did.

“We are all right now,” he told Shirley in a low voice. “The marines and sailors will soon be here, and these fellows can’t stand up against them.”

Shirley smiled at him bravely.

“I know it,” she replied quietly.

Now the leader of the revolutionists signalled two of his men to bind the prisoners. This was soon done, and they were taken well to one side of what proved to be the line of battle.

“I do this so I may be sure you will be saved for me,” said General Orizaba with an evil smile. “It would be nice to have you shot down by American bullets, but I would rather do it myself. Besides, from here, you can see us defeat the Americanos.”

“Many thanks for your kindness,” returned Dick. “I’ll speak a word for you when you are in the hands of the Americanos, as you call them.”

“That,” was the reply, “will never be.”

Dick shrugged his shoulders.

“Have it your own way,” he said.

Came a shout from one of the men who had been sent forward on scout duty.

“The Americanos!” he cried.

General Orizaba hurried toward him. Dick and Shirley drew a breath of relief.

An instant later a long line of hurrying blue figures came into view. Shirley and Dick looked at them with pride in their eyes.

The marines and sailors advanced at the double.

“Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!”

The battle had begun!

CHAPTER XVIII.—END OF THE REVOLT.

After some effort he succeeded in getting out his pocket knife. Then, holding it in one of his bound hands, he bent his head and opened the big blade with his teeth. Fortunately the rope with which he was bound was not thick, and the knife was sharp.

For perhaps ten minutes, holding the knife in his mouth by the handle, Dick sawed at the bonds on his hands. At last the rope parted. Quickly he untied his feet, and then unbound Shirley, who also arose to her feet.

The Nicaraguan forces were now in full retreat, and as Dick would have led Shirley forward toward the town, a single figure burst into sight. As the man came closer Shirley and Dick could see anger and hate written large on his features. They recognized him upon the instant.

“Orizaba!” exclaimed Shirley.

“And come to fulfill his promise, I guess,” agreed Dick quietly.

“Run!” cried Shirley.

“What’s the use?” asked Dick. “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.

Dick turned to Shirley.

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

Shirley protested.

“But—but,——” she began.

“Quick!” exclaimed Dick. “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 Dick’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, Dick awaited the attack of the Nicaraguan. A full hundred yards away, but still running, the latter opened fire with his revolver.

“Good!” thought Dick to himself. “He can’t hit me that way, and his shells 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.

Dick 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. Dick, 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 Dick’s face and eyes.

“So that’s your game, eh?” muttered Dick 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. Dick 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 Dick, 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, Dick 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, Dick saw a dozen marines who had gathered about to watch the contest. Shirley came forward anxiously.

“Are you hurt Dick?” 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 Dick and Orizaba locked in combat, and had felt morally certain Dick 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 Dick 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 Dick’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.”

Dick 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 Dick’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 Dick, 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 Dick.

“Shirley was in danger. Why shouldn’t I have been there?” demanded Mabel. “I saw Dick 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.

“I didn’t see him,” replied Mabel. “I suppose they are looking for us in some other part of the town. I’ll bet they are badly frightened.”

“I fear so too,” replied Shirley. “I guess we had better get back as soon as we can. But we shall have to thank the lieutenant first.”

That officer declared that he wanted no thanks.

“We are glad to have been able to take a shot at those fellows,” he said. “We have been wanting to do it for a long time, but this is the first opportunity we have had. We—Hello!”

He broke off suddenly. Riding rapidly toward them was a large body of men, and above them floated a white flag. They dismounted some distance away, and one approached.

The girls recognized this man immediately. He was President Garcia.

He rode up to the lieutenant, and introduced himself.

“And I would like the person of Orizaba delivered to me,” he said quietly.

“You shall have him,” replied the lieutenant. “It will save us trouble.”

The unfortunate revolutionist, fully recovered now, was turned over to the President of Nicaragua and marched away. Then President Garcia appeared to perceive Shirley and Mabel for the first time. He raised his hat to them.

“I am pleased that the senoritas have escaped safely,” he said quietly, and making a low bow to them, he turned his horse about, and a moment later was gone.

The lieutenant in command of the marines now ordered his men back to their ship, and the girls accompanied them on their return march through the town. Dark looks were cast at them from all sides, but none ventured a word.

“You may see they don’t love us very much in these parts,” said the lieutenant with a smile. “They would welcome a chance to shoot us all.”

At the pier the two girls saw their fathers approaching rapidly, and they ran forward to meet them. The meeting was affectionate, for both Mr. Willing and Colonel Ashton had been greatly alarmed at their long absence.

“I am going to keep my eye on you in the future,” declared Mr. Willing.

The girls only laughed. Both men were profuse in their praise of Dick’s gallant actions, and Colonel Ashton declared:

“It’s a good thing we brought him along, Willing.”

The marines gave the Willing party a rousing cheer as they stepped into the Yucatan’s small boat and were rowed back to the vessel.

“I’m glad to see you back,” declared Captain Anderson. “We’re late now. We shall leave here at once.” He turned to the first officer. “You may get under way immediately, sir!”

And as the Yucatan steamed from the harbor, the passengers gathered about the two girls, demanding an account of their experiences.

CHAPTER XIX.—A GUATEMALA ADVENTURE.

“You can go with me,” said Captain Anderson. “I am going to pay my respects to the American consul.”

An hour later a small boat put off from the ship and headed shoreward. In it, besides Captain Anderson and the crew, were Mr. Willing, Colonel Ashton, Dick, Shirley and Mabel.

“We’ll keep out of trouble this time,” commented Mr. Willing.

They accompanied Captain Anderson to the United States consulate, where they were introduced to the consul. An hour later they all started back toward the boat.

As they walked down one of the dirty streets Captain Anderson espied a figure slinking along.

“Hey!” he cried. “There goes that scoundrel Von Blusen, who broke his parole and ran away at Corinto. I’ll get him!”

He darted hurriedly across the street, and laid a hand on the young man’s shoulder. The latter looked up in surprise, and then perceiving Captain Anderson, jerked suddenly free and took to his heels, running directly toward the Willing party.

“Head him off!” cried Captain Anderson, and Dick and the two men leaped to obey.

Straight at them rushed the young German officer, and a few feet away hurled himself forward with a powerful spring. He struck the three squarely, and all went to the ground in a tangled heap.

Von Blusen was the first to regain his feet. He raised a hand as though to strike one of his fallen adversaries, but the approach of Captain Anderson at that moment caused him to turn and flee quickly.

The captain made after him at top speed, calling upon him to halt. Around the block they ran, and then, unconsciously doubling back, Von Blusen once more found himself bearing down on Dick and Mr. Willing and Colonel Ashton.

A moment later Captain Anderson, panting, hove in sight and gasped out:

“Stop him!”

This time the three spread out, so they would have a better chance of halting the fugitive. The latter ran straight at Mr. Willing and the force of the contact sent both to the ground. As Von Blusen arose Colonel Ashton leaped for him.

But the German was too quick for the colonel, and missing his grasp, the latter sprawled on the street. Von Blusen turned just in time to meet Dick with a hard blow to the face, and Dick toppled over.

Then Von Blusen darted up a little alleyway.

Unmindful of his intention to keep a close eye on the girls, Mr. Willing, now red with anger, made after him, as did the colonel, Captain Anderson and Dick.

The girls found themselves alone in the street.

The noise of the chase had attracted many spectators, among them several members of the native police.

Suddenly Captain Von Blusen emerged from the alleyway on the dead run, his pursuers close on his trail.

Perceiving one man thus followed by many, the native officers decided to interfere. Von Blusen darted past them, evading their outstretched arms by dodging neatly; but the others were not so fortunate.

Pursuers and native police collided with a shock, and there was a tangle of arms and legs as they rolled in the dirty street. The officers freed themselves first, and drawing their revolvers stood by while the others arose.

One of them broke into a torrent of Spanish.

Captain Anderson, the only member of the party who spoke the language, halted in his tracks.

“I’m an American citizen,” he told the policeman. “Take your hands off me,” this to one of the officers who insisted upon holding him by the arm.

The officer chattered volubly and clung to the arm.

Captain Anderson freed his arm with a quick wrench, and tapped the officer lightly on the shoulder with his hand.

“Caramba!” roared the Guatemalan, and levelled his revolver at the captain.

“Caramba yourself!” cried the captain, and extending his arm suddenly, he took the pistol away from the little officer.

The latter stamped the ground angrily and broke into another torrent of unintelligible words.

But Captain Anderson now perceived he had acted rashly in thus giving way to his temper. The blood of the other native officers was aroused, and they surrounded the Americans gesticulating vigorously.

At that moment Captain Von Blusen, who had been hovering just around the corner, reappeared, and approaching the officers, addressed them in Spanish.

“These men tried to rob me,” he declared. “I want them arrested!”

“Si señor! It shall be done!” replied one of the officers.

“I’ll go with you to make the charge,” continued the young German.

“Si señor!” said the native officer.

Turning, he motioned for the four to precede him. Captain Anderson was inclined to hang back, as were the others, but a word from Captain Von Blusen decided them to go on.

“They’ll shoot if you don’t go,” declared Von Blusen with a smile.

Shirley and Mabel, who had been standing nearby while all this was going on, now made as though to approach, but Mr. Willing waved them back.

“Go back to the consulate and tell the consul what has happened,” he called to her.

The girls turned to go, but Von Blusen, realizing what was going on, called to the officers to stop them.

“Run!” cried Captain Anderson, who was the only one who understood the import of the German’s words.

“Halt!” cried one of the Guatemalans, as the girls broke into a run.

But the girls did not understand him, and if they had, their actions would have been the same.

They set out for the consulate at top speed and they did not stop, in spite of pursuit and cries of “Halt!” until they dashed in the door.

The consul greeted them with an exclamation of surprise.

“What’s the matter?” he demanded.

Shirley explained.

“And hurry,” she added tearfully, “they will lock them up in a dirty old jail.”

The consul was forced to smile.

“Oh, well, I guess it won’t hurt them any,” he replied.

The girls looked at him in astonishment, and Shirley opened her mouth to speak. The consul silenced her with a gesture.

“I’ll get them out, all right,” he assured them.

He looked at his watch and continued.

“It is now ten o’clock. I think I can safely promise to have them back aboard the Yucatan by five o’clock.”

“Five o’clock!” repeated Shirley. “And where will they be all that time?”

“Jail,” was the brief reply.

Shirley could not repress an exclamation of dismay.

“But can’t you hurry?” she exclaimed.

“Now don’t you fret,” said the consul. “There is certain red tape that must be gone through, and it will take time. Besides, it is needless to hurry. In this country no one hurries. If I seem unduly excited it will take longer than ever.”

“Please do the best you can, then,” said Shirley.

“I shall,” replied the consul. “In the meantime, you two girls return aboard the Yucatan. I’ll call my secretary and have him escort you back.”

In response to his summons a young man appeared and the consul instructed him to see them back aboard their ship.

“Yes, sir,” said the young man. “Come,” to the girls.

He accompanied them to the wharf, where he instructed the sailors to take them aboard and then return and await the arrival of the captain and the others.

It was almost six o’clock when Shirley and Mabel, gazing toward shore, perceived the little boat of the Yucatan bobbing toward them. As it drew close they could make out the faces of their fathers, Dick and Captain Anderson.

A short time later all appeared on deck. Their clothing was ruffled and dirty, and it was plain to the girls that their fathers were not in the best of temper. Nevertheless Shirley could not repress a slight dig at them.

First she approached Captain Anderson.

“And did you capture Captain Von Blusen?” she asked.

“No,” grumbled the captain. “I hope I never set eyes on him again.”

“Dad,” said Shirley, “do you remember what you said to us about getting into trouble?”

Mr. Willing growled some unintelligible reply.

“We’ve never been in jail yet, Dad,” continued Shirley slyly. “Were you?”

Mr. Willing glanced at his daughter and seemed about to make some sharp response. Then he controlled himself and spoke:

“Yes, we were in jail,” he growled. “We spent the best part of the day there.”

“Well,” said Shirley, “you are always getting in trouble. I reckon Mabel and I will have to keep closer watch on you.”

“I am sure of it,” declared Mabel.

Dick smiled, but there was no amusement on the faces of Mr. Willing nor Colonel Ashton. They scowled at their daughters.

“Now, Dad,” continued Shirley, “did Captain Von Blusen—”

“Will you be quiet?” demanded Mr. Willing. “Haven’t we had enough trouble for one day without all this chatter. Come, Ashton, we’ll go to our cabin.”

Shirley, Mabel and Dick broke into a loud laugh as the two stalked away arm in arm, looking neither to the right nor left.

CHAPTER XX.—UP THE MEXICAN COAST.

“Must be either English or Japanese,” replied Dick. “Not much chance of any other vessel being in these waters, unless, of course, she is a United States cruiser. But that can’t be, because she would not have halted us.”

Signs of activity became apparent aboard the cruiser, and the colors were run up the masthead. For a moment they could not be distinguished, but as the breeze caught the ensign, a gasp went up from the passengers, with here and there a cheer.

For the colors thus displayed were the red, white and black of Germany!

“My goodness! Will she shoot us?” exclaimed Shirley in some dismay.

“Hardly,” declared Dick. “I don’t believe Germany wants to go to war with the United States.”

There came a message from the German to Captain Anderson:

“I am coming aboard!”

A few moments later a boat put off from the cruiser, and soon scraped alongside the Yucatan. An officer appeared over the side and was greeted by Captain Anderson.

“How did you get here?” was his first question. “I had reason to believe the Yucatan was now in other waters.”

“Well,” replied Captain Anderson dryly, “your little piracy scheme didn’t work, you see.”

The German officer controlled his temper with an effort.

“Have you a passenger by the name of Bristow aboard?”

“Oh,” said the captain, “you mean Von Blusen. We did have him aboard, in irons. I released him on parole, and he broke it. I’ll never trust another German.”

The German officer drew himself up angrily.

“Have a care, sir!” he exclaimed. “You seem to forget that I can sink you on a moment’s notice.”

“Oh, no I don’t. But I’m sure you won’t. Already you have troubles enough. I’ll thank you to dispose of your business immediately and then get off my ship.”

“I’ll have a look at your papers,” said the German shortly.

Captain Anderson led the way to his cabin.

As they talked, the passengers on deck noticed smoke upon the horizon. Save for this little blur and the German cruiser there was nothing else in sight but water.

The blur became larger, and at last took the shape of a vessel. As it drew nearer it could be seen that it was a battle cruiser. It bore down toward the German cruiser at full speed.

“I hope it’s an Englishman,” declared Shirley.

“Probably is,” said her father, “although it may be a Jap.”

Still the German officer was in the cabin with Captain Anderson.

Suddenly the head of another German officer appeared over the rail of the Yucatan and dashed toward the captain’s cabin. A moment later both reappeared, dropped over the side and the boat made back toward the cruiser.

The Yucatan was very close, and now, at a command from Captain Anderson, she got under way.

“If that other cruiser is a Britisher, there is bound to be a fight, and we don’t want to be in the way,” explained the captain. “We’ll stand off at a distance and look on.”

This plan met the approval of the passengers, and as the Yucatan steamed toward a safe spot all eyes were turned upon the second cruiser waiting for her to show her colors.

And at last they were unfurled, and a cheer rang the length of the ship. The British ensign fluttered from the mast.

The German cruiser, immediately the identity of the other was determined, turned to flee. She seemed fully as large as the British ship, and there were comments of surprise aboard the Yucatan that she didn’t offer to accept battle.

But there was to be no escape for the German. The British cruiser gave chase, and it was soon apparent that she was much faster than the foe.

There was a heavy crash as her big guns opened fire on the stern of the enemy. The Yucatan’s passengers watched eagerly for the result.

The German cruiser seemed to stagger in her stride, and a cloud of wood and steel flew in the air. The first shot had struck home, and in some manner had disabled the engines of the German. Escape being impossible, the latter turned to give battle.

Immediately the British cruiser reduced her speed.

Shirley and Mabel stood at the rail of the Yucatan with clasped hands and strained faces.

“And to think that we shall see a real sea fight!” exclaimed Mabel.

“But think of the poor sailors,” said Shirley.

“Of course,” said Mabel, “but they may be saved. Perhaps the German commander will surrender.”

“I am sure he won’t,” declared Shirley.

“No, he won’t surrender,” said Dick. “Whatever else you may say of the Germans, their bravery cannot be doubted.”

Now the first gun on the German cruiser spoke, and a shell plowed up the water alongside the Britisher.

“They’ll have the range in a minute,” said Dick, “and then they’ll go at it hammer and tongs.”

He was right. The next shot from the German burst squarely over her enemy’s forward turret, putting it out of commission.

There was a cheer from the few German passengers aboard the Yucatan.

But the British cruiser more than evened up the score with her next shot.

A shell burst squarely amidships on the German. A moment later there was a terrific explosion.

The German cruiser seemed to part in the middle. It staggered crazily. She had been wounded unto death, as every passenger aboard the Yucatan realized.

Men flung themselves into the sea, and struck out in the direction of the Yucatan.

Captain Anderson was a humane man, and while the matter possibly was none of his business, he determined to aid the unfortunate victims. He ordered the ship’s lifeboats manned and lowered.

“Look!” cried Shirley.

Another terrific explosion drowned her voice. The German cruiser suddenly sprang into a brilliant sheet of flame, seemed to leap in the air, then disappeared.

The calm waters of the Pacific closed over her. She was gone.

Shirley and Mabel held their breath in speechless amazement. It seemed to them incredible that such a great ship could have been sent to the bottom in such a short time.

“The poor sailors!” exclaimed Shirley. “I hope they will all be saved.”

“They won’t be,” declared Captain Anderson, who had come up and now stood among the others. “With my glass I saw the commander on the bridge a moment before the ship went down. He has gone with her, and so, probably, have most of his officers.”

He lifted his cap from his head, as did the passengers.

“It’s a terrible thing, this war,” continued the Captain. “How many went down I do not know; but how many of those who did knew what they were fighting for? Not many.”

Meanwhile the little lifeboats of the Yucatan were helping the crews of the British cruiser pick up the survivors. The work went on with the utmost haste, for there were many who could not swim.

Fortunately most of those who had jumped just before the explosion were saved. These were all taken aboard the British cruiser, and a short time later the British commander came aboard the Yucatan.

Shirley and Mabel looked with some awe at this British sea fighter. He seemed a veritable hero in their eyes. Once on deck, he strode toward Captain Anderson with quick steps, his carriage erect.

“I thank you for your assistance in saving many helpless sailors,” he said to Captain Anderson. “Without your aid many would have perished.”

“How badly is your ship damaged, sir?” asked Captain Anderson, asking the question that was uppermost in the minds of all aboard the Yucatan.

“Very little, sir,” was the reply. “Two guns shot to pieces, and five men injured. No man was killed. There was also some slight damage to the engine room. It was a notable victory.”

“Indeed it was!” cried Shirley, who could keep silent no longer.

The British sea captain gazed at her for a moment, then bowed slightly.

Shirley’s face grew red at her own boldness, but she said nothing more.

The commander of the British cruiser followed Captain Anderson to the latter’s cabin, where he inspected the ship’s papers. Half an hour later he made his way over the side of the Yucatan and was soon back aboard the cruiser.

Immediately he had left, the Yucatan got under way and continued her journey up the Mexican coast.

All the passengers remained on deck gazing after the British cruiser, which had turned in the opposite direction; and until she was lost to sight in the distance, a faint smoke marking her location, hardly an eye was taken from her.

“Well, Shirley,” said Mr. Willing, “what did you think of the battle?”

“It was wonderful,” replied the girl, clasping her hands. “I am glad the English won.”

“And so am I,” agreed her father. “How do you think you would like to be a sailor aboard a man-o’-war.”

“I’d love it!” declared Shirley with enthusiasm.

Dick looked at her peculiarly.

“I believe you would,” he said quietly at last, and, turning on his heel, he went below.

CHAPTER XXI.—A WOMAN PLOTTER.

The woman had given her name as Mrs. Miguel Sebastian and this strengthened the belief of the members of the Willing party that she was a native of one of the Latin countries. She had come aboard the ship for the first time at Colon, but for several days had kept to her stateroom, so the passengers had not seen much of her.

She was young, hardly more than twenty-five, slender, rather light complexioned for a Spaniard, and extremely pretty. Since leaving Champerico she had been much in the company of Shirley and Mabel, and both girls had taken an instinctive liking to her.

She had travelled much, apparently, and told them tales of many lands. Her husband, she said, was abroad in Europe, but would join her in San Francisco within a month. She was well posted on current events, and seemed to have the history of Mexico at her finger tips.

It was while the Yucatan was steaming into the harbor of Acapulco, the first Mexican port at which they were to touch, that Mrs. Sebastian related some of the history of the revolution-torn republic.

“I have always been greatly interested in Mexico,” she told the girls, as the three leaned over the rail this morning. “I have spent several years in the country. I have friends here in Acapulco, and I shall make an effort to see them while here. Would you care to go with me?”

“We would love to,” declared Shirley, “but I don’t know whether Dad will consent to our going without him.”

“We shall see,” returned Mrs. Sebastian. “I can promise you a dinner that you will never forget. Nowhere outside of Mexico can you get real Mexican food, and it will be something to remember.”

Colonel Ashton, Mr. Willing and Dick now joined the others on deck, and Shirley asked for permission to accompany Mrs. Sebastian.

Mr. Willing appeared somewhat dubious, but Mrs. Sebastian also asked him to consent.

“I’ll promise to return them to you safely,” she said with a smile.

“In that event, I shall give my consent to their going, madam,” returned Colonel Ashton gallantly.

“And I,” agreed Mr. Willing.

“Thanks so much,” said Mrs. Sebastian, “and I’ll go and ask Captain Anderson just how long we shall remain here.”

She walked away.

“Mr. Willing,” said Dick, “it may appear wrong, but somehow or other I don’t exactly trust that woman.”

“Pooh!” replied Mr. Willing. “What does a youngster like you know?”

“Perhaps I am wrong,” replied Dick, “but something tells me she is not to be trusted. She is up to some mischief.”

“Why, Dick!” exclaimed Shirley. “Don’t you want us to go?”

“To tell the truth I don’t,” was the reply.

“Young man,” said Colonel Ashton, “you will learn, as you grow older, not to jump to such rash conclusions. Mrs. Sebastian is a gentlewoman.”

“Right you are, Ashton,” declared Mr. Willing. “We’re old enough to know, eh?”

The two men smiled at each other and walked away, leaving the young people together.

Mrs. Sebastian returned a few moments later.

“Captain Anderson says we shall be here until evening,” she said, “so we shall have plenty of time for our trip ashore. He says we may go in the first boat, so you girls had better run along to your cabin and get ready. Mr. Stanley will entertain me until you return.”

Shirley and Mabel hurried away, and Dick and Mrs. Sebastian stood together looking across the water at the shore, which was drawing closer rapidly.

“Where are you going when you get ashore?” asked Dick abruptly.

“Why, I am going to call upon a friend,” was the smiling reply.

“Then you have been here before?” questioned Dick.

“Many times.”

“Mrs. Sebastian,” said Dick quietly, “are you a Mexican?”

The woman started back in surprise.

“Why, no,” she replied at last. “I was born in Spain. Why do you ask?”

“I just wondered,” was Dick’s evasive answer. “By the way, I suppose it is perfectly peaceful here now?”

“Yes, indeed,” was the reply. “I guess the fighting is all over, now that General Villa has been successful in Chihuahua and other northern states.”

“But there has been trouble down here?”

“Oh yes, but it is all over. Besides, the revolutionists probably have not enough money to buy arms and ammunition.”

“Why don’t they steal them? It wouldn’t be the first time.”

Mrs. Sebastian’s face turned red.

“What do you mean?” she asked angrily.

“I am sorry I offended you,” Dick apologized. “I spoke thoughtlessly.”

“Say no more about it,” said Mrs. Sebastian with a laugh. “I am naturally touchy on that subject, for I have friends who were of the revolutionary party.”

“I see,” replied Dick, and the subject was changed as Shirley and Mabel returned to them.

Half an hour later the Yucatan dropped anchor a mile off shore and the small boats were lowered for such passengers as desired to land.

Mrs. Sebastian, Shirley and Mabel soon found themselves in the first boat and making shoreward at a good clip.

“We shall be back in plenty of time,” Mrs. Sebastian had called to Mr. Willing just before they took their places in the boat.

The men nodded and waved their hands, and the occupants of the boat returned the salute.

Now the small boat scraped the shore, and an officer sprang out and lent a hand to the passengers. Mrs. Sebastian was the first to go ashore, and Shirley and Mabel followed a moment later.

The little street that ran along the water front was crowded with natives, dirty, ragged and unkempt, with here and there a gaily bedecked Mexican. They did not present a very inviting aspect, and the two girls shrank close to Mrs. Sebastian.

The latter paid no attention to the natives, but pushed her way through the crowd with never a glance to right or left. She continued along the street until they came upon a long line of dilapidated cabs.

She signalled to one of the drivers, who opened the door. Mrs. Sebastian motioned the girls to climb in, spoke a few quick words in Spanish to the driver and entered the cab. A moment later they were being driven through the dirty streets as fast as the old horse could go.

“I thought my friend might be at the landing to meet me,” the woman explained, “but as I didn’t see anything of her, I thought best to drive right to her home.”

Shirley and Mabel nodded their understanding of this, and turned to view the passing sights.

After an hour’s drive the cab pulled up before a house somewhat larger than the rest, and the cabman dismounted and threw open the door.

“Here we are at last,” said Mrs. Sebastian as she alighted and motioned the girls to follow. Then she gave the cabman a single piece of silver and turned to the heavy door.

This she opened without the formality of a knock, and led the way across a small patio—a courtyard—in the center of what appeared to be the house itself. Here they brought up against another door, and Mrs. Sebastian knocked sharply three times.

There was a moment’s delay, then the door swung open and a man’s face appeared.

At sight of Mrs. Sebastian the man stepped back with a bow, and Mrs. Sebastian, followed by the two girls, swept by him.

The door slammed behind them.

Mrs. Sebastian led the way into a small but luxuriously furnished room off the main hall, where she turned to the man who had followed them, and spoke a few words in Spanish. The man bowed and departed.

“I told him to announce our arrival,” explained Mrs. Sebastian.

The girls surveyed the interior of the handsome apartment curiously.

“I had no idea they lived so well in Mexico,” said Shirley.

“Nor I,” declared Mabel.

“The upper classes live as well in Mexico as elsewhere,” replied Mrs. Sebastian. “It is only the poorer—or peon—class that you have heard about, apparently.”

Footsteps sounded without and a moment later a handsomely attired woman entered the room, followed a moment later by a fancifully garbed man. The woman rushed up to Mrs. Sebastian and they greeted each other affectionately. The man also appeared glad to see the visitor.

Mrs. Sebastian then presented the girls, and it developed that both Don Miguel and his wife—for so they were introduced—spoke English. They made the girls welcome, and told them to make themselves at home.

“I have promised them a real Mexican dinner,” explained Mrs. Sebastian with a little laugh.

“They shall have it,” replied Don Miguel, throwing wide his arms.

“And now,” said Mrs. Sebastian, “where can we have a talk?”

“In the next room,” was the reply.

“Good! I am sure my young friends will excuse me for half an hour.”

She looked inquiringly at the two girls. The latter nodded, and the Don and two women made their way from the room.

The moment they were gone, Shirley and Mabel began an inspection of the room. There were two windows, both of which looked on the street and both of which were barred.

Shirley uttered an exclamation.

“Barred!” she said.

“That’s nothing,” laughed Mabel. “Surely you remember all windows are barred in Mexico.”

“That’s so,” agreed Shirley.

After some further inspection of the room, Mabel crossed to the door through which they had come, and turned the knob. Then her face paled and she stepped back with an exclamation of alarm.

“What’s the matter, Mabel?” asked Shirley.

For a moment Mabel did not reply. Again she turned the knob and then she stepped back and looked at Shirley.

“It’s locked!” she declared.

CHAPTER XXII.—CAPTAIN VON BLUSEN BOBS UP AGAIN.

“Are you sure?” asked Shirley, her face also turning a shade whiter.

“Try it yourself,” replied Mabel.

Shirley advanced and laid hold of the knob, but the door would not open.

The girls looked at each other in alarm.

“I never heard that they always locked the doors in Mexico,” said Mabel.

“Nor I,” agreed Shirley. “Do you suppose it was an accident?”

“I don’t know what to think,” replied Mabel.

There was no denying the fact that both girls were badly frightened. They darted hither and thither about the room, seeking a means of egress; but there was none and they finally sat down.

“It must have been an accident,” said Shirley at last. “Surely Mrs. Sebastian would have no reason for wishing to keep us prisoners.”

“That’s what I think,” Mabel agreed. “The door must have locked itself.”

“Well, all we can do is wait for some one to return,” said Shirley.

And so they waited.

As the minutes passed, each seemingly more slowly than the one that had gone before, the fright of the girls increased.

An hour passed and still Mrs. Sebastian had not returned.

Shirley was about to speak, when they heard the sounds of footsteps outside and the doorknob turned. The door opened and Mrs. Sebastian stepped in smiling.

“I had no idea I had been gone so long,” she exclaimed. “Why didn’t you call me? You have been as quiet as mice.”

Shirley and Mabel each drew a breath of great relief.

“Then you didn’t lock us in purposely?” asked Mabel.

“Lock you in? What do you mean?”

“The door was locked and we couldn’t get out. That’s why we were so quiet,” replied Shirley, laughing. “We thought you had locked us in.”

“The idea!” exclaimed Mrs. Sebastian. “The door locked?” She approached and examined it. Then she looked up with a smile. “Why, the catch is on,” she exclaimed, smiling. “And were you frightened?”

“No, not much,” replied Mabel slowly. “We knew it must have been locked accidentally.”

“Of course,” replied the woman. “Now would you care to wash up a bit? Dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes.”

The girls nodded and the woman led the way. Fifteen minutes later all were seated in the cozy dining room, where Shirley and Mabel had their first introduction to Mexican cooking.

Each girl sampled everything that was placed before her, and in spite of their efforts to try and enjoy the meal, disappointment was written large on their features. Mrs. Sebastian noticed this and laughed, while the donna and her husband smiled slightly.

“So you don’t like the Mexican dishes,” said Mrs. Sebastian.

“Well, they are a little too hot for me,” said Shirley, somewhat ruefully.

“Try some of these tortillas,” said the man, “perhaps you will find them to your liking, though they are warm.”

The girls tried some, but with no better result. They finally gave up in despair.

The meal over, Mrs. Sebastian led the way back to the other room, which apparently was the parlor. Here all sat down to talk and the girls spent a very pleasant afternoon.

Finally Shirley looked at her watch. “What time did Captain Anderson say we would leave?” she asked of Mrs. Sebastian.

“Soon after five o’clock,” was the reply. “Why?”

“It’s almost four now,” replied Shirley. “Hadn’t we better be going?”

“Oh, no, we have plenty of time,” was the answer. “It will not take us so long to get back.”

Shirley subsided, and the others continued the conversation.

At half past four Shirley again mentioned the time. Mrs. Sebastian arose, spoke a few words to the others in Spanish, and then came over to Shirley.

“I have decided,” she said, laying a hand on the girl’s shoulder, “to remain here over night and go on by train to-morrow. Will not you and Mabel stay with me?”

“I am sorry, but we can’t do that,” replied Shirley. “If you will call a cab for us and direct the driver, we shall not trouble you to take us back to the boat.”

“But we should like to have you stay,” said the donna.

“We would indeed be glad to do so, but father would worry,” said Mabel.

The Don also added his voice, but the girls turned a deaf ear. Both arose and put on their hats. Then they approached to tell their hosts good-bye.

Mrs. Sebastian spoke quickly to the Don and his wife in Spanish. Then she turned to the girls.

“Come,” she said, “remove your hats and stay.”

“It is impossible,” replied Mabel.

“We would be glad to if we could,” said Shirley, “but we must hurry now, or we shall be too late, and the ship will go without us.”

The girls turned toward the door.

“One moment,” said Mrs. Sebastian, raising a hand.

The girls halted in their tracks.

“We must insist upon your staying over with us,” said the woman quietly.

“But—” began Shirley.

“I said we must insist,” repeated Mrs. Sebastian. “You may as well remove your hats.”

Both girls stared at her in utter astonishment. Shirley was the first to grasp the significance of the situation.

“Then it is true!” she exclaimed; “the door was locked! We are prisoners!”

The man of the house bowed low.

“Prisoners, or guests,” he said. “It shall be as you prefer.”

Shirley did not reply, but leaped quickly toward the door. The others were across the room and could not interfere. The door swung open, and Shirley called out:

“Quick, Mabel! Run!”

Mabel sprang after her friend.

But the time taken to open the door proved costly. Before Shirley could dart through it, Mrs. Sebastian had her by both shoulders, while the other woman held Mabel powerless.

Then they led the girls back into the room and bade them sit down. Perceiving the uselessness of resistance, the girls obeyed.

Mabel immediately broke into tears, and Shirley threw her arms about her.

“Don’t cry, dearie,” she exclaimed. “We are in no danger. They will not dare to harm us.”

She gazed at their three captors angrily.

“What do you want with us?” she demanded.

“You shall know in good time,” replied Mrs. Sebastian gruffly.

Her manner had undergone a sudden change. She was no longer the good-natured, smiling companion of the steamer. Her face was hard, and she seemed to have aged ten years.

She turned to the other woman.

“Bring paper, pen and ink,” she commanded.

The latter hurried away to obey this order, and returned a few moments later, bearing the required articles, which she placed on a table.

Mrs. Sebastian drew up several chairs and motioned the two girls, who had been staring at them curiously, to take the seats.

Both realized it would be useless to refuse and did as commanded. Mrs. Sebastian passed the paper, pen and ink to Shirley.

“Write as I dictate,” she ordered.

Here Shirley protested.

“What is it you wish me to write?” she asked.

“You’ll hear quick enough,” was the reply. “Write.”

Shirley replaced the pen gently on the table.

“Not until you tell me what you want me to write, and to whom,” she replied quietly.

The others looked at her in surprise, then conversed a few moments in Spanish. At last Mrs. Sebastian said:

“The letter is to your father and to Colonel Ashton. It will contain a demand for $20,000—$10,000 apiece—for your return.”

Shirley rose suddenly to her feet and gave a cry of amazement.

“You mean that we are to be held for ransom?” she exclaimed in unbelief.

“Exactly,” replied the man.

“And so you are robbers,” exclaimed Shirley scornfully.

Mrs. Sebastian’s face flushed.

“No,” she replied quietly. “But the patriotic forces in Mexico are in need of money. We have taken this means of getting it for them. Your fathers are rich. They will not miss the money, and it will mean so much to us.”

“And if we refuse to write?” asked Shirley.

“You probably will spend the remainder of your days in Mexico. But you won’t refuse. Come now, write as I dictate.”

“May I speak to my friend in private first?” asked Shirley.

Mrs. Sebastian hesitated. Then:

“Yes, but be quick.”

Shirley and Mabel put their heads close together.

“Shall I write the letter, Mabel?” asked Shirley.

“Yes,” was the instant reply. “Then Dad will know we are in danger and just what sort of danger. It is the only way we can get word to the others. I know they will find us.”

“I guess you’re right,” agreed Shirley.

She returned to her place at the table, and picked up the pen.

“Dictate and I shall write,” she said.

“I am glad to see you are so sensible,” smiled Mrs. Sebastian.

She dictated and Shirley wrote. When she had finished she had both girls affix their signatures, and then address an envelope.

She clapped her hands and a young native boy entered the room. To him Mrs. Sebastian gave the letter and spoke in Spanish, whereupon the boy hurried away.

Hardly had he gone when there came three sharp knocks at the door without. The conspirators looked at each other in alarm, and the hopes of Shirley and Mabel rose suddenly.

But the latter were doomed to disappointment. Mrs. Sebastian left the room, only to return a few moments later followed by the figure of a man.

Shirley took one look at him, and gave a cry of surprise.

The newcomer was Captain Von Blusen!