Part 2 (1/2)

”Jest the kind we're a-wantin' out here,” responded the Yankee gunner.

”The more they force the fightin' the sooner the war will come to an end. He's coming toward us,” he added, as General Lawton stepped from out of the circle around him.

”You are from the _Olympia_, I believe?” he said, addressing Luke.

”Yes, general,” replied the old gunner, touching his forelock, while Larry also saluted. ”We volunteered for this expedition.”

”You look all right, but--” General Lawton turned to Larry. ”I'm afraid you are rather young for this sort of thing, my lad,” he went on.

”I hope not, sir,” cried Larry, quickly. ”I've seen fighting before.”

”He was in the thickest of it when we knocked out Admiral Montojo, general,” interposed Luke. ”You can trust him to do his full share, come what may.”

”Oh, if he was in that fight I guess he'll be all right,” responded General Lawton, with a grim sort of a smile. And he turned away to overlook the s.h.i.+pping of some ammunition on one of the tinclad gunboats which was to form part of the expedition.

The troops were speedily on the cascos, which were to be towed by several steam launches and escorted by three tinclads. Although Larry and his friends did not know it till several hours later, the destination was Santa Cruz, a pretty town, situated on a slight hill overlooking the placid waters of the Laguna de Bay. The general's plan was to reach the lake by nightfall, and steal over the silent waters in the dark until the vicinity of Santa Cruz was gained, in hopes that the garrison might be caught ”napping,” as it is called.

For the time being the sailors were separated one from another, each being put in charge of a casco, the shallow rowboats being joined together in strings of four to six each, and pulled along with many a jerk and twist by the puffing little launches, which at times came almost to a standstill.

”We won't reach the lake by sunrise, and I know it,” remarked one of the soldiers to Larry, who stood in the bow of the casco with an oar, ready to do whatever seemed best for the craft. ”We've a good many miles to go yet.”

At that instant the casco ahead ran aground in the shallow river, and Larry had all he could do to keep his craft from running into it. As the two boats came stem to stern one of the soldiers in the craft ahead called out to those behind:--

”Say, Idaho, do you know where we are bound?”

”Bound for Santa Cruz, so I heard our captain remark,” answered one of the soldiers in Larry's boat. ”Got any tobacco, North Dakota?”

”Nary a pipeful, wuss luck,” was the response; and then the line straightened out as the casco ahead cleared herself from the mud, and the two boats moved apart once more.

”Are we really going to Santa Cruz?” questioned Larry, as soon as he got the chance. ”I thought we were bound for the north sh.o.r.e of the lake.”

”I can only tell you what I heard the captain say,” answered the soldier, with a shrug of his shoulder. ”General Lawton ain't blowing his plans through a trumpet, you know.”

”I hope we do go to Santa Cruz,” mused Larry, as he thought of what had been said of Benedicto Lupez. ”And if we take the town I hope we take that rascal, too.”

The best laid plans are often upset by incidents trifling in themselves. It was the dry season of the year, and the Pasig River, usually broad and turbulent, was now nothing better than a muddy, shallow creek, winding and treacherous to the last degree. As night came on the expedition found itself still in the stream and many miles from the lake, and here cascos and launches ran aground and a general mix-up ensued.

”Hullo, what have we run up against now?” growled the lieutenant in charge of the soldiers in Larry's boat. ”Can't you keep out of the mud, Jackie?”

”I'm doing my best,” panted the youth, as he shoved off for at least the fourth time. ”With the lines forward and aft pulling one way and another it's rather difficult to keep to the channel, especially in the dark.”

”Oh, you're only a boy and don't understand the trick,” growled the lieutenant, who was in a bad humor generally. ”I don't see why they let you come along.”

”Our boat is doing about as well as any of them,” answered Larry, bound to defend himself. ”Two boats are aground to our left and three behind us.”

”See here, don't talk back to me! You tend to business and keep us out of the mud,” roared the lieutenant, in worse humor than before.

An angry retort arose to Larry's lips, but he checked it. ”A quarrel won't do any good,” he thought. ”But what a bulldog that fellow is--as bad as Quartermaster Yarrow, who caused me so much trouble on the trip out here.”

On went the cascos once more, around a tortuous bend and past a bank fringed with bushes and reeds. The mosquitoes were numerous, likewise the flies, and everybody began to wish the journey at an end.