shing volley.

Long tongues of flame spat out into the night. The air was full
of whistling bullets.

Pseu! pss-seu! pss-seu! Sang the steel-jacketed bullets about
the ears of the Americans.

Then the sailor nearest Ensign Dave Darrin fell to the ground
with a stifled gasp.

CHAPTER VIII

DISOBEDIENCE OF ORDERS

Outnumbered, the Americans did not falter.

Save for Hicks, the guide, and the wounded man, the sailors threw
themselves automatically to one knee, bringing their rifles to
"ready."

For a moment Ensign Darrin felt sick at heart. He was under orders
not to fire, to employ no armed force in a way that might be construed
as an act of war in the country of another nation.

Yet here were his men being fired upon, one already wounded, and
American women and children in danger of losing their lives.

Perhaps it was against orders, as given, but the real military
commander is sometimes justified in disregarding orders.

At the first sound of shots all of the sailors, except Hicks,
came running back, crouching close to earth. As soon as they
reached the thin little line the men knelt and waited breathlessly.
Dave's resolution was instantly taken. Though he might
hang for his disobedience of orders, he would not tamely submit
to seeing his men shot down ruthlessly.

Still less would he permit American women and children to be endangered.

Orders, or no orders---

"Ready, men!" he shouted, above the sharp reports of the Cosetta
rifle fire. "Aim low at the hedge! Fire at will!"

Cr-r-r-rack! rang out the American Navy rifles.

Filled with the fighting enthusiasm of the moment, Darrin drew
his automatic revolver, firing ten shots swiftly at different
points along the hedge.

From behind that screen came cries of pain, for the Mexican is
an excitable individual, who does not take his wounds with the
calmness evinced by an American.

Another American sailor had dropped. John Carmody, who had remained
with the defending party, snatched up one of the rifles. Standing,
he rushed in a magazine full of bullets, then bent to help himself
to more from the belt of the rifle's former carrier.

Fitting his revolver with a fresh load of cartridges, Dave held
his fire for any emergency that might arise.

A marine dashed up, nearly out of breath.

"Sir," panted the marine, "Corporal Ross wants to know if you
want to order the Colt gun and the marines up here."

"No," Dave decided instantly