Picture Play Magazine (Oct-Nov 1915)

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PICTURE-PLAY WEEKLY your father and myself, he communicated to us." "What is that ?" Again the younger man deferred to the older. "That is, my dear, that Lieutenant Sommers, at the same time he sent copies of his designs for his gun to be made by us, also sent duplicate designs, through an agent, to sell them to representatives of foreign gun works — both German and Japanese. Now, my dear"— he checked her again as she started to protest — "this matter was presented with certain proofs. As Etherington has said, the admiral, like ourselves, refused to credit the charges in connection with the Bagol chiefs until this matter came to his attention through official channels from Washington. My dear, the copies of Lieutenant Sommers' plans and designs, made out from his own originals, have actually been taken at Hongkong by our secret-service agents just as they were being offered to representatives of these foreign gunworks. Lieutenant Sommers' agent escaped, unfortunately; but his drawings and designs were taken and sent at once to Washington, where Lieutenant Sommers is now summoned to stand trial for treason !" The girl steadied herself and faced her father and her friend bravely. "Where is Lieutenant Sommers now?" she demanded. "What has he said to these charges?" "For five weeks he has been fighting in Bagol, my dear," the father replied. "He does not know yet that these charges are made against him. He cannot know even that his gun has failed in the test." "Why has not Admiral Barlow sent for him to answer those accusing him, at once?" "Because the transport Mongolian, my dear, the only ship leaving here for the States for some weeks, left yesterday, before the serious nature of these second charges were communicated from Washington. Lieutenant Sommers is now landed, and is actively in the fighting line ashore at Bagol. Under these circumstances, Admiral Barlow considers he can do the kindest thing byleaving him to fight down there until the last moment, when he must be summoned to take the next ship for home. He has ordered him watched and practically under arrest. But, if he can make any favorable record in the fighting down there during these next weeks, we want to give him that advantage." "But if he is killed?" "Perhaps, under the circumstances, that might be the best solution of the matter," replied her father gently. "To let him be killed with such charges against him, without giving him a chance even to answer? No — no! I don't care how serious and how sure they seem ! He is not guilty ! He must be given a chance to answer now, at once, and to prove it!" "But there is no ship for three weeks," Etherington objected. "No ship? Surely we go back before then, father," the girl cried suddenly. "What !" The startled exclamation came from Pinckney's lips. "Don't we, father?" "Why, yes, my dear. One of the points about which Admiral Barlow wished to see me, besides those I have just told you, was that the important matters which I came here to oversee in person must now wait over till next fall. So we can return practically any day now, my dear." "Then let us return at once, father, and by way of Bagol — to take Lieutenant Sommers with us ! This is not a time to let him fight down there ! Any one of a thousand men can take his place there now ! This is the time for him to return to take up the charges against him; to clear himself; to prove — the true traitor! You have just said we may go back any time now, father !" she reiterated excitedly. "Then let us go back at once by way of Bagol, and make the admiral give you charge of Lieutenant Sommers, to take him back to answer his accusers !" "But, Frances !" Etherington put in hastily, as she stopped breathlessly. "My dear — my dear girl!" cried her father. But Frances had her way. Bagol, with its lukewarm, limpid sea bounded by the white beaches of its bays, lay again ahead of the little Irvessa before the sunset of the second day. In the bay on the north, where on the former occasion the yacht had lain alone, the San Juan and two other gunboats, a transport and a cruiser now lay at anchor. In the afternoon, when the Irvessa was still seventy miles off, Pinckney had first picked up the little fleet by wireless. He had informed the naval captain in command that Mr. Durant was coming to take the arrest and parole of Lieutenant Sommers to take him at once to Washington. The commandant had replied the lieutenant was then far inland with a party of soldiers and marines, but that he had been sent for and might be expected to return during the night. The yacht swung in beside the gunboats and anchored. The officer from the cruiser came over and furnished more particulars. Lieutenant Sommers had been continuously at the front on a special detail, forcing the fighting, ever since his return. He had planned for that day a coup which drew upon every available man from the ships to help the soldiers. The chiefs were to be surprised and surrounded in their stronghold. Yet the natives were very strong and well armed. The fighting was sure to be close and fierce. But probably about this time — nine o'clock — it would all be over. If Lieutenant Sommers were found at once by the man sent to summon him, he was to be expected back between twelve and one o'clock that night, probably. "If he found him alive, he meant to say," Frances told herself fearfully. She withdrew from the others as soon after this as she could, and from the darkness of the deck watched the black outlines of the deserted shore, showing dimly under the baffling, inscrutable shimmer of the stars. Finally the officer, returning to his ship, passed her with an encouraging word. She did not care that he had seen what it meant to her to have Dick back. Her father and Etherington came to her; but still she felt terribly, terribly alone, unaware of the lurking presence of Pinckney on the deck behind her, as she waited for the first sounds of men breaking from the bush there upon the beach, and for the first shout or signal to tell that they — that he was safe. This time there was no firing from behind the trees to ring in her ears. She could only wait and wait, answering her father's and Etherington's hollow encouragement in shortening syllables, as the time crept on and on. From somewhere far behind the black wood a signal shot rang out ; then, like an echo, there came a reckless, triumphant shout, and the loud trampling and crashing of men returning in victory. Lights shone suddenly between