Part 21 (1/2)

”It's our gun that's going to be fired!” exulted Frank.

Like clockwork the men in the turret prepared for the work ahead of them. Frank took his place at the firing trigger, and waited for the range.

”Sight her at ten thousand yards,” came the command. ”Aim at that hill back of the town. We're going to blow it apart!”

”Aye, aye, sir!” Frank answered.

”Fire!” came the command.

”Fire she is!” echoed Frank.

And the big gun boomed.

CHAPTER XIX-ASh.o.r.e

The great s.h.i.+p trembled with the vibration of the immense gun, and when the smoke had cleared away and the gases been blown from the cannon by the compressed air, Ned looked out of the turret, which had not been completely closed on account of the heat, and cried:

”A hit, Frank! A hit!”

What he saw was a cloud of dust flung into the air, and slowly drifting about in the wind.

”Well, I couldn't very well help hitting that,” said Frank. ”It was a big enough target, and it was stationary and so were we.”

As yet none but the officer who had given the direction for the training of the big gun, and his superiors, knew why the hill had been shattered by the shot.

”Another sh.e.l.l, sir?” asked the blue-jacket who, with Ned and some others, had charge of the ammunition hoist.

”No, not from this turret. We're going to fire another, but from the after one.”

Frank and his mates were a little regretful, for there is a wonderful fascination about working the big guns. But still he did not want to monopolize all the glory, if such it can be called.

So Frank's crew cleaned the immense gun to have it in readiness for use when it would again be needed, and went back to their usual positions. A little later there was another terrific report, as the second fifteen-inch gun in the after turret sent a second 1500-pound projectile toward another hill back of Pectelo.

This time Ned and Frank and some of their friends had a good view of the flight of the sh.e.l.l as it sped on its mission of destruction, if not death. They were out of the turret now. Screeching through the air went the projectile. It struck the hill squarely, the gun being aimed as well as had the one Frank served.

An instant later there was a veritable fountain of earth and stones sent into the air, and then dust hid the scene from view.

”I wonder what the game is, firing at those hills?” questioned Ned.

”Maybe just to give the revolutionists a scare,” suggested his brother.

”Sort of expensive scaring,” commented Tom Dawson.

”Well, we'll know in good time, I guess,” was the opinion of Hank Dell.

The effect of the two big projectiles, other than that the tops of the hills had been smashed, was not discernible from on board the _Georgetown_.

But there was no mistaking the effect on the populace of the capital of the little republic. Through gla.s.ses Frank and Ned could notice wild excitement in the public square which came down to the water's edge.