Picture-Play Magazine (Oct-Nov 1915)

20 PICTURE-PLAY WEEKLY Mr. Durant threw himself upon her and pressed her violently to the floor. "Those devils on shore are getting the range ! It's too late to get out from here now. We'll have to stay here till this is over, my brave little girl !" He patted her reassuringly as he held her down. "How soon did you say that gunboat would be here?" "Within three-quarters of an hour. But " Oh, father!" She started up again as the full appreciation of that fatal delay tingled through her. The firing on shore was rattling rapidly, almost unceasingly, now. "They must all be killed before he can come ! Oh, if I had only told him before !" "Keep down, Frances ! My child, you did all you could, and as soon as you could !" "But you don't know, father ! He told me half an hour before to tell him where we are — he begged me — he commanded me. But I wouldn't, because Etheringtftn warned me not to. So now — what's that?" She paused, affrighted. A deep roar, ringing and resounding and roaring again, thundered from the neck of land which stretched out to bound the bay on the east. At the sound the shots ashore ceased suddenly. As the girl lay, quivering and trembling, beside the wireless table, she heard the receivers rattle. Instantly she was up, with the receivers clamped to her ears. "Father, that was the San Juan firing its big guns to scare them and let them know he is coming ! Ten miles away? Oh, but that sounded very near !" The heavy discharge thundered again across the neck of land to the east. But now the rifle shots snapped out quicker and more angrily ; they seemed to begin moving eastward through the woods. Then another bullet smashed through the cabin panels. Mr. Durant had risen to shield his daughter with his own body, as he tried again to pull her down to the deck. But this time the girl could not be driven from the key. "Didn't you hear, father?" she cried triumphantly. "He's ten miles away by sea, but not two by land ! He's on the other side of that arm of the bay there ! Oh!" "Do not try to reach us by sea!" She struck down her key, her wrist steadying again as she sent. "Land upon east arm bay, opposite where now are. Men in danger directly inshore." She had repeated it aloud, in explanation to her father as she sent ; but suddenly he toppled before her. The smooth, steel bullet which had struck him passed on, and embedded itself in the woodwork beyond. "Father !" "It's only a scratch — top of my shoulder— see !" The old man had recovered himself almost at once. Frances had begun to tear the rurfle from her skirts for a bandage, when a cry from the bow caused the old man to start. Frances saw then that the brown men who had been hiding on the shore were running down toward the Irvessa's boats. Nichols and his men volleyed at them rapidly, but ineffectively. Meanwhile the record tape from the instrument upon the table had been unrolling mechanically. "Are you safe, Irvcssa?'' was the query from the commander of the cruiser. "Safe !" responded Frances excitedly. "Land immediately upon east arm bay !" "Then you are not threatened?" She shut her eyes as she struck her key: "No!" "Landing !" was the single word, sent in reply. From across the point the cruiser's guns roared their warning again. The fainter volleys in the woods rattled in Frances' ears as she struck her key once more. But now no answer came, and she dropped back to the deck. "He has landed — he is going to save them !" she repeated to herself, half aloud. "And to save us, too, maybe, miss," said Nichols, the mate, who had come up to take charge of her father. From the other side of the woods, by the point, the fainter rifle shots were smothered by the unceasing chatter of a stuttering machine gun, which discharged three hundred shots a minute. A second automatic gun. starting its ceaseless rattle an instant later, silenced entirely the failing fire of the Filipinos. Pinckney's men, and the men who had rushed to relieve them, were saved. But Nichols was pointing to the score and a half of brown desperadoes who had taken the yacht's boats and had pushed them afloat. In spite of the volleys from the yacht's bows, they had been piling into the boats ; but now they turned suddenly and fled. A moment after the beach wa cleared, the Irvessa's thirty men, heade by Etherington Pinckney, broke froi the bush behind and made, unmoleste* for the boats. Frances counted them as they cam; clearer into view; eight were being car ried or supported by the others, but, b; some miracle, all were there. The; threw themselves into the boats am rowed wearily back to the yacht. Behind them the sputter of the mail chine guns, and the rescuing volley ] from the San Juan's rifles, still ram from the woods. Almost together, th< two boats gained the yacht's side. "Etherington, none of you are killed?' Mr. Durant steadied himself to gree'j his guest as the latter came over side. , "No, sir! But ten of us are hit and pretty badly hurt. But you — you've beer struck yourself, sir?" The younger1 man clutched the older quickly, turned, with a rapid change in his bearing, and shouted to Adrian. "Adrian, to Manila at once !" he com-' manded. "Up anchor and full speed — for the sake of our wounded and Mr. Durant ! See, he's been hit, too, and — he's fainting!" He, pointed to his host, almost triumphantly, as the old man's weight fell heavily upon his arm. "Full speed to Manila at once." he repeated. "But father's not hurt much !" Frances confronted him with flaming eyes. "He has fainted from worry and exhaustion. Nichols and I bandaged ! him ; he's scarcely hurt at all." "But the men, Frances — the crew !" "Can be cared for here, Etherington — at least till we can find out whether the men who saved us are safe ! They're still fighting for us — listen \" "Oh, they're safe enough !" returned Pinckney, laughing uneasily. "The Filipinos are off long ago. We had them on the run ourselves before the regulars came. They're just firing now for show! Your father's unconscious now; so I'm in command. Full speed ahead to Manila !" he cried again, as the anchor came up and the yacht swerved and started. "Now, see here. Frances !" he called after the girl to explain ; but she turned from him and went below, without a word. Pinckney smiled queerly, and followed her. She had gone to tend her father and the wounded men of the crew ; but an hour later, when her father was resting well and the men were as comfortable