ch it from the shore."

The launch was a few hundred yards down the lagoon when Darrin,
alertly watching, made out several figures on the eastern shore.

Patiently he waited until the first flash from a rifle was seen,
which was followed instantly by the report and the "pss-seu!"
of a bullet.

"Let 'em have the rest of what's in the Colt," the young ensign
directed, calmly. "Men, don't fire too rapidly, but keep up your
work. We want to be remembered by Cosetta, if he has the good luck
to be still alive."

It was neither a heavy nor an accurate fire that came now from
the enraged Mexicans. Helped out by the Colt, the fire from the
moving craft was sharp enough to discourage the rapidly diminishing
ardor of the miscreants on shore.

Just as the launch rounded the point of land at the mouth of the
lagoon, and stood out into open water at full speed, a stray bullet
killed Seaman Hicks.

"Yes, sir, he's dead, poor fellow!" exclaimed Riley, looking up
as Ensign Dave stepped hastily forward for a look at his man.
"Hicks was a fine sailor too."

"For a party that wasn't expected to fight," returned Darrin wearily,
"we've had a pretty big casualty list---two killed, and three
wounded."

"You're wounded yourself, sir," exclaimed Riley.

"Oh, my boot was cut," Darrin assented, indifferently.

"Look at your wrist, sir," urged the young Coxswain.

Dave glanced down at his left wrist, to find it covered with blood.

"It must look worse than it is," Darrin commented, listlessly.
"I didn't even feel it."

"It will need attention, sir, just the same," Riley urged. "Let
me fix it up, sir, with a first aid bandage."

There was a water cask aboard. As the launch was now out of close
range, and the Mexicans had apparently given up firing, Riley
brought a cup of water, poured it over the wrist, and wiped away
the blood.

"A scratch, as I thought," smiled Dave. "Not even enough to get
excused from watch duty."

"You'll have it dressed, sir, won't you, as soon as you get aboard
the '_Long Island_' again?" urged Riley, applying the sterilized
bandage with swift skill. "If the scoundrels used any of the
brass-jacketed bullets of which they're so fond, a scratch like
that might lead to blood poisoning, sir."

In a few minutes more the launch was out of rifle range. Dave
ordered the course changed to east by north-east, in order to
reach the rendezvous of the three launches.

"Steamer ahead, sir!" sang out the bo