Dave Darrin at Vera Cruz: Fighting with the U.S. Navy in Mexico

"Do you care to go out this evening, Danny boy?" asked Dave Darrin, stepping into his chum's room.

"I'm too excited and too tired," confessed Ensign Dalzell. "The first thing I want is a hot bath, the second, pajamas, and the third, a long sleep."

"Too bad," sighed Dave. "I wanted an hour's stroll along Broadway."

"Don't let my indolence keep you in," urged Dalzell. "If you're going out, then I can have the first hot bath, and be as long about it as I please. Then I'll get into pajamas and ready for bed. By that time you'll be in and we can say `good night' to each other."

"I feel a bit mean about quitting you," Dave murmured.

"And I feel a whole lot meaner not to go out with you," Dan promptly assured his chum. "So let's compromise; you go out and I'll stay in."

"That sounds like a very odd compromise," laughed Darrin. "On the whole, Dan, I believe I won't go out."

"If that's the way you feel," argued Dalzell, "then I'm going to change my mind and go out with you. I won't be the means of keeping you from your stroll."

"But you really don't want to go out," Dave objected.

"Candidly, I don't care much about going out; I want that bath and I'm tired. Yet in the good old cause of friendship--"

"Friendship doesn't enter in, here," Dave interposed. "Danny boy, you stay here in the hotel and have your bath, I'll go out and pay my very slight respects to Broadway. Doubtless, by the time you're in pajamas, I'll be back, and with all my longing for wandering satisfied."

"Then, if you really don't mind--"

"Not at all, old chap! So long! Back in a little while."

Through the bathroom that connected their two rooms at the Allsordia

Hotel, Dave Darrin stepped into his own apartment.

Having donned coat and top-coat, Darrin picked up his new derby hat and stepped to his room door. In another half minute he was going down on the elevator. Then he stepped into the street.

Dave Darrin was young, healthy, happy, reasonably good-looking. His top-coat and gray suit were well tailored. Yet, save for his erect, military carriage, there was nothing to distinguish him from the thousands of average well-dressed young men who thronged Broadway after dark on this evening in late March.

For perhaps fifteen blocks he strolled uptown. All that he saw on that gaily lighted main thoroughfare of New York was interesting. It was the same old evening crowd, on pleasure bent.

Then, crossing over to the east side of Broadway, Dave sauntered slowly back.

Laughing girls eyed the young naval officer as he passed. Drivers of taxicabs looked the young man over speculatively, as though wondering whether he might be inveigled into going on a, to them, profitable round of New York's night sights. Human harpies, in the form of "confidence men"--swindlers on the lookout for prey--glanced but once at the young naval ensign, then looked away. Dave Darrin's erect carriage, his clear steady eyes, his broad shoulders and evident physical mastery of himself made these swindlers hesitate at the thought of tackling him.

Through the occasionally opened doors of the restaurants came the sounds of music and laughter, but Dave felt no desire to enter.

He was several blocks on his homeward way, and was passing the corner of a side street quieter than the others, when he heard a woman's stifled cry of alarm.

Halting, bringing his heels together with a click, and throwing his shoulders back, Darrin stopped on the corner and looked down the street.

Five or six doors away, close to a building, stood a young woman of not more than twenty-two. Though she was strikingly pretty, Dave did not note that fact in the first glance. He saw, however, that she was well dressed in the latest spring garments, and that her pose was one of retreat from the man who stood before her.

That the man had the external appearance of the gentleman was the \ first fact Darrin observed.

Then he heard the young woman's indignant utterance:

"You coward!"

"That is a taunt not often thrown at me," the young man laughed, carelessly.

"Only a coward would attempt to win a woman's love by threats," replied the girl, more calmly, though bitterness rang in her tone. "As for you, I wish to assure you that I am quite through with you!"

"Oh, no, you're not!" rejoined the annoyer, with the air of one who knows himself to be victor. "In fact, you will do very much as I wish, or your brother--"

"You coward!" spoke the girl, scornfully again.

"If your brother suffers, your pride will be in the dust," insisted the annoyer, "and, remember, I, alone, can save your brother from disgrace."

"I am not even going to ask you to do it," retorted the young woman. "And now our interview is over. I am going to leave you, and I shall not see you again. I---"

"Going to leave me, are you?" leered her tormentor. He stepped forward, holding out his hand, as though to seize the young woman's wrist, but she alertly eluded him.

"If you try again to touch me, or if you attempt to follow me," warned the young woman, "I shall appeal for assistance."

So absorbed were the disputants in their quarrel that neither had noticed Darrin, standing on the corner.

The tormentor's face flushed, then went white, "Make your appeal," he dared, "and see what happens!"

Again he attempted to take the girl by the wrist.

"Can I be of service, madam?" inquired Darrin, as he strode toward them.

Like a flash, the annoyer wheeled upon Darrin, his eyes flashing dangerously.

"Young man," he warned, threateningly, "the best thing you can possibly do will be to make yourself scarce as quickly as possible. As for this young woman---"

The tormentor moved a step nearer to the young woman, whose face had turned very pale.

Dave slipped quietly between them.

"As this young woman does not wish to talk with you," Darrin suggested, "you may address all your remarks to me."

While the two young men stood eyeing each other Darrin noted that the young woman's annoyer was somewhat taller than himself, broader of shoulder and deeper of chest. He had the same confidence of athletic poise that Dave himself displayed. In a resort to force, it looked as though the stranger would have the better of it.

Yet this stranger seemed suddenly deprived of much of his assurance. Plainly, there was some good reason why he did not wish to fight on this side street so close to Broadway.

"Madam," inquired Darrin, half turning, "may I have the pleasure of escorting you to your friends?"

"If you will call a taxi---" she began, eagerly.

At that moment a fareless taxicab turned the corner of Broadway and came slowly down the street.

"Hold on, chauffeur!" cried Darrin, in a voice of command. Then, as the cab stopped at the curb, Dave turned his back upon the tormentor for a moment, while he assisted the young woman into the taxicab.

"Do you feel satisfied to go without escort," asked Darrin, "or may I offer my services in seeing you safely to your home?"

"I shall be all right now," replied the young woman, the troubled look in her lustrous brown eyes vanishing as she favored her unknown defender with a smile. "If the driver will stop, two blocks from here, I will direct him where to take me."

"Step aside, boy!" ordered the unknown man, as he tried to brush

Dave away and enter the cab.

It was no time for gentle measures. Ensign Darrin's right fist landed heavily on the face of the stranger, sending him prone to the sidewalk.

At a wave of Dave's hand the chauffeur started away. Scenting trouble, the chauffeur drove as fast as he could down the side street, making the round of the block, then heading into Broadway and going uptown, for the young woman had called out her destination.

As for the stranger whom Dave had knocked down, the fellow was on his feet like a flash. Ignoring Darrin, he tried to dash down the side street after the taxicab.

"Step back!" ordered Dave, catching hold of the fellow, and swinging him around. "You're not going to follow."

"I must have the number of that taxicab," cried the stranger, desperately.

"Too late," smiled Dave, as he saw the taxicab turn the next corner. "You won't learn the number. I happened to see it, though," he added incautiously.

"Give it to me, then," commanded the other. "I'll overlook what you've done if you truthfully give me the number of that taxicab. Find that girl I must, and as early as possible. Though I know her well, and her family, too, I do not know where to look for them in New York."

Dave, without a word, turned as though to walk toward Broadway.

"Give me that taxi's number," insisted the stranger.

"I won't," Dave returned, flatly.

"Give me that number, or---"

"Or what?" drawled Darrin halting and glancing contemptuously at the furious face before him.

"Or I'll pound the number out of you!" came the ugly challenge.

"Go ahead," Dave invited, coolly. "I don't mind a fight in the least, though perhaps you would, for I see a policeman coming up the street. He would be bound to arrest both of us. Perhaps you have better reasons than I have for not courting the activities of the police."

It was plain that a fearful, even though brief struggle, took place in the stranger's mind before he made reply to Dave's taunt.

"I'll find you again, and the next time you shall not get off so easily," muttered the other. "Depend upon it, I shall see you again!"

With that the stranger walked toward Broadway. Smiling, Dave strolled more slowly after him. By the time the naval ensign reached the corner of that great artery of human life, the stranger had lost himself in the crowds of people that thronged Broadway.

"If I see him again within twenty-four hours, I think I shall know him," laughed Darrin. "My first blow put a red welt on his cheek for purposes of identification."

Then Darrin finished his walk, turning in at the Allsordia.

Dan Dalzell had also finished his bath, and lounging comfortably in his pajamas, was reading a late edition of the evening newspaper. "Have any fun?" asked Ensign Dalzell, glancing up.

"Just a little bit of a frolic," smiled Darrin, and told his chum what had happened.

"I'm glad you punched the scoundrel," flared Danny Grin.

"I couldn't do anything else," Dave answered soberly, "and if it weren't for the shame of treating a woman in such high-handed fashion as that fellow did, I'd look upon the whole affair as a pleasant diversion."

"So he's going to look for you and find you, then settle up this night's business with you, is he?" demanded Dalzell, with one of the grins that had made him famous. "Humph! If he finds you after ten o`clock to-morrow morning, it will be aboard one of our biggest battleships and among fifteen hundred fighting men."

"I'm afraid I shall never see him again," sighed Dave. "It's too bad, too, for I'm not satisfied with the one blow that I had the pleasure of giving him. I'd like to meet the fellow in a place where I could express and fully back up my opinion of him."

"I wonder if you'll ever meet him again?" mused Dalzell, aloud.

"It's not worth wondering about," Dave returned. "I must get into my bath now. I'll be out soon."

Fifteen minutes later Darrin looked into the room, saying good night to his chum. Then he retired to his own sleeping room; five minutes later he was sound asleep.

No strangers to our readers are Dave Darrin and Dan Dalzell "Darry" and "Danny Grin," as they were known to many of their friends. As members of that famous schoolboy group known as Dick & Co. they were first encountered in the pages of the "Grammar School Boys Series." All our readers are familiar with the careers in sport and adventure that were achieved by those splendid Gridley boys, Dick Prescott, Dave Darrin, Greg Holmes, Dan Dalzell, Tom Reade and Harry Hazelton. The same boys, a little older and twice as daring, were again found in the pages of the "High School Boys Series," and then immediately afterward in the "High School Boys' Vacation Series."

It was in the "Dick Prescott Christmas Series" that we found all six of our fine, manly young friends in the full flower of high school boyhood. A few months after that the six were separated. The further fortunes of Dick Prescott and Greg Holmes are then found in the "West Point Series," while the careers of Darrin and Dalzell are set forth in the "Annapolis Series," just as the adventures of Reade and Hazelton are set forth in the "Young Engineers Series."

At Annapolis, Darrin and Dalzell went through stirring times, indeed, as young midshipmen. Now, we again come upon them when they have become commissioned officers in the Navy. They are now seen at the outset of their careers as ensigns, ordered to duty aboard the dreadnought "Long Island" in the latter part of March, 1914.

Certainly the times were favorable for them to see much of active naval service, though as yet they could hardly more than guess the fact.

General Huerta, who had usurped the presidency of Mexico following the death--as suspected, by assassination--of the former president Madero--had not been recognized as president by the United States. Some of Madero's friends and former followers, styling themselves the "Constitutionalists" had taken to the field in rebellion against the proclaimed authority of the dictator, Huerta. The two factions had long fought fiercely, and between the two warring parties that had rapidly reduced life in Mexico, to a state of anarchy, scores of Americans had been executed through spite, as it was alleged, and American women and children had also suffered at the hands of both factions.

Lives and property of citizens of European governments had been sacrificed, and now these European governments looked askance at the Washington government, which was expected to safeguard the rights of foreigners in Mexico.

To the disappointment and even the resentment of a large part of the people of the United States, the Washington government had moved slowly, expressing its hope that right would triumph in Mexico without outside armed interference.

This policy of the national administration had become known as watchful waiting. Many approved of it; other Americans demanded a policy of active intervention in Mexico to end the uncertainty and the misery caused by the helpless of many nations, who were ground between the opposing factions of revolution in Mexico.

With this brief explanation we will once more turn to the fortunes of Ensigns Dave and Dan.

At 6.45 the next morning the telephone bell began to tinkle in Dave's room. It continued to ring until Darrin rose, took down the receiver, and expressed, to the clerk, on duty below, his thanks for having been called.

"Turn out, Danny Grin!" Darry shouted from the bathroom. "Come, now, sir! Show a foot! Show a foot, sir!"

Drowsily, Dalzell thrust one bare foot out from under the sheet.

"Are you awake in sea-going order, sir?" Dave asked, jovially.

"Aye, aye, sir."

"Then remain awake, Mr. Dalzell, until I have been through the motions of a cold bath."

With that Darrin shut the door. From the bathroom came the sounds of a shower, followed by much splashing.

"Turn out the port watch, Mr. Dalzell," came, presently, through the closed bathroom door. "The bathroom watch is yours. Hose down, sir."

With that Dave stepped into his own room to dress. It was not long before the two young naval officers left their rooms, each carrying a suit case. To the top of each case was strapped a sword, emblem of officer's rank, and encased in chamois-skin.

Going below, the pair breakfasted, glancing, in the meantime, over morning newspapers.

Just before nine-thirty that same morning, our young naval officers, bent on joining their ship, stepped along briskly through the Brooklyn Navy Yard.

It was really an inspiring place. Sailors, marines and officers, too, were in evidence.

In the machine shops and about the docks thousands of men were performing what once would have passed for the work of giants. Huge pieces of steel were being shaped; heavy drays carried these pieces of steel; monster cranes hoisted them aboard ships lying at the docks or standing shored up in the dry docks. There was noise in the air; the spirit of work and accomplishment pervaded the place, for word had come from Washington that many ships might soon be needed in Mexican waters.

Eight dreadnoughts lay at their berths. Even as the boys crossed the great yard a cruiser was being warped in, after an eighteen-thousand mile voyage.

Alongside floating stages in the basins lay submarines and torpedo boat destroyers. A naval collier was being coaled. A Navy launch was in sight and coming closer, bearing a draft of marines bound for duty on one of the battleships.

Every sight spoke proudly of the naval might of a great nation, yet that might was not at all in proportion with the naval needs of such a vast country.

"It does an American good, just to be in a place like this, doesn't it?" asked Danny Grin.

"It does, indeed," Dave answered. Then, his bewilderment increasing, he turned to a marine who stood at a distance of some sixty feet from where he had halted.

"My man!" Dave called.

Instantly the marine wheeled about. Noting the suit cases, with the swords strapped to them, the marine recognized these young men in civilian attire as naval officers. Promptly his hand sought his cap visor in clean-cut salute, which both young ensigns as promptly returned.

"Be good enough to direct me to the `Long Island,'" Darrin requested.

"Yes, sir," and the marine, stepping closer, led the way past three large buildings.

"There she is, over there, sir," said the marine, a minute later, pointing. "Shall I carry your suit cases, sir, to the deck?"

"It won't be necessary, thank you," Darrin replied.

"Very good, sir," and again the marine saluted. Returning the salute, the two young officers hurried forward. As they strode along, their eyes feasting on the strong, proud lines of the dreadnought on which they were to serve, their staunch young hearts swelled with pride. And there, over the battleship's stern, floated the Flag, which they had taken most solemn oath to defend with their lives and with their honor, whether at home, or on the other side of the world.

In both breasts stirred the same emotions of love of country. Just then neither felt like speaking. They hastened on in silence. Up the gang-plank they strode. At a word from the officer on deck, two young sailors, serving as messengers, darted down the plank, saluting, then relieving the young officers of their suit cases.

Up the gang-plank, and aboard, walked the young ensigns. First the eyes of Ensigns Darrin and Dalzell sought the Flag. Bringing their heels together, standing erect, they faced the Stars and Stripes, flying at the stern, bringing their hands up smartly in salute. The officer of the deck returned to the youngsters the salute on behalf of the Flag.

Then Darrin and Dalzell approached the officer of the deck.

"I am Ensign Darrin, and I report having come aboard, sir," said

Dave. Dan reported his own arrival in similar terms.

"My name is Trent," replied the officer of the deck, as he extended his right hand to each, in turn. "I hope you will like all of us; I know we shall like you."

Then to the messengers Lieutenant Trent gave the order to carry the suit cases to the rooms assigned to the two new ensigns. Dave and Dan followed the messengers through a corridor that led past the ward-room. The messengers halted before the curtained doorways of adjoining rooms, bags in left hands, their right hands up in salute.

"This is your room, sir," announced the messenger, in the precise tones of the service, while Dan's messenger indicated the other room.

"Some kind fate must have given us adjoining rooms," laughed Dave, when he realized that the two doors stood side by side.

As Darrin passed into his new quarters his first glance rested lovingly on the breech of a huge gun that pierced the armored side of the dreadnought.

"That's great!" thought the young ensign, jubilantly. "I shall have an emblem and a constant reminder of my duty to the United States!"

His second glance took in the polished top of a desk, over which hung an electric light.

There is no door to an officer's room; instead, a curtain hangs in place, screening the room from outside view. At one side, in the cabin, was another curtain, this screening the alcove in which lay the berth.

But Darrin did not stop to study his new quarters just then. There was a duty first to be performed. Opening his suit case, he took out the trousers and blouse of the blue undress uniform. Into this he changed as rapidly as he could, after which he brushed his hair before the little mirror, then put on his cap.

Next he fastened on his sword belt, after which he hung his sword at his side. An anxious head-to-foot glance followed, and Ensign Darrin found himself spick and span.

Now he stepped to Dan's door, calling in:

"May I come in, old fellow?"

"I'll be in a strange state of mind if you don't," Danny Grin answered.

Ensign Dalzell was putting the finishing touches to his own rapid toilet.

"I'm going to help myself to your card case," announced Dave, who already held a card of his own. Adding Dan's to that, Ensign Darrin stepped to the doorway, glancing quickly about him.

"Sentry!" Dave called.

"Sir!" answered a marine, stepping forward and giving the customary salute.

"Pass the word for a messenger, sentry!"

"Aye, aye, sir."

In a twinkling the messenger arrived, saluting.

"Take these cards to the captain, with the respectful compliments of Ensigns Darrin and Dalzell, and state that they await his permission to report to him."

"Aye, aye, sir."

In less than a minute the messenger returned, stating that the captain would receive them at once.

Captain Gales, a heavily-built, stately-looking man of fifty, rose from his desk in his office as the two young ensigns stepped through the door. The young men saluted their commander, then stood rigidly at attention.

"Mr. Darrin?" asked the captain, extending his hand, which Dave promptly clasped. Then Dan was greeted.

"Glad to have you with us," was all the captain said. Then, to the marine orderly who stood just within the door: "Show these gentlemen to the executive officer."

"He didn't ask after our folks, nor even if we liked the looks of the ship," Dalzell complained, in a whisper, as they followed the orderly.

"Be silent, Danny Grin!" urged Darrin, rebukingly. "This is no time for jesting."

Commander Bainbridge, the executive officer, received the young officers in his quarters. He proved to be more communicative, talking pleasantly with them for fully a minute and a half after the young men had introduced themselves, and had turned over to him the official papers connecting them with this dreadnought's personnel.

"Let me see, Mr. Dalzell," said Lieutenant Commander Bainbridge, referring to a record book on his desk, "you will be in Lieutenant Trent's division. Find Mr. Trent on the quarter deck and report to him. Mr. Darrin, you are assigned to Lieutenant Cantor's division. I will have an orderly show you to Mr. Cantor."

Dan departed first, walking very erect and feeling unusually elated, for Dalzell had thoroughly liked the appearance of Trent in their brief meeting, and believed that he would be wholly contented in serving under that superior.

While Dave's quarters were on the port side of the ship, Cantor's proved to be on the right side.

The messenger halted before a curtained doorway, rapping.

"Who's there?" called a voice inside.

"Messenger, sir, showing Ensign Darrin to Lieutenant Cantor, sir."

"Then you may go, messenger. Darrin, wait just an instant won't you, until I finish my toilet."

"Very good, sir."

A moment later the hail came from within.

"Right inside, Darrin!"

Dave entered, to find a somewhat older officer standing with extended hand. But Ensign Darrin could not believe his eyes when he found himself faced by the man who had annoyed the young woman on the night before--and that annoyer standing there erect and handsome in the uniform of a Navy lieutenant!