As they came alongside the gangway of the cruiser, they saw launches and
barges lying in strings to the boat-booms, filled with men, waiting for
the rocket signal from the beleaguered hotels. A gun thundered from
close at hand, up river, followed by the thunder of numerous guns and
the reports of many rifles fired very rapidly.

"Now what's the _Topila_ whanging away at?" Habert complained, then
joined the others in gazing at the picture.

A searchlight, evidently emanating from the Mexican gunboat, was
stabbing the darkness to the middle of the river, where it played upon
the water. And across the water, the center of the moving circle of
light, flashed a long, lean speedboat. A shell burst in the air a
hundred feet astern of it. Somewhere, outside the light, other shells
were bursting in the water; for they saw the boat rocked by the waves
from the explosions. They could guess the whizzing of the rifle bullets.

But for only several minutes the spectacle lasted. Such was the speed of
the boat that it gained shelter behind the German, when the Mexican
gunboat was compelled to cease fire. The speedboat slowed down, turned
in a wide and heeling circle, and ranged up alongside the launch at the
gangway.

The lights from the gangway showed but one occupant, a tow-headed,
greasy-faced, blond youth of twenty, very lean, very calm, very much
satisfied with himself.

"If it ain't Peter Tonsburg!" Habert ejaculated, reaching out a hand to
shake. "Howdy, Peter, howdy. And where in hell are you hellbent for,