As the native officer continued to swagger along, from behind houses and from down streets a hail of rocks and stones dropped upon him. The children, divided in the fight for the quarter, had joined forces against this common enemy and were pelting him vigorously.
“Good!” exclaimed Mabel. “I am glad of it. I hope they hurt him, the big coward.”
The native officer stopped and glared around angrily at his small assailants for a moment, while the rocks and stones fell on him faster than before. One struck him in the face. This was too much for his courage. He took to his heels, and with the mob of children in close pursuit, was soon lost to sight.
“I hope they get him,” declared Shirley vehemently.
“They won’t, though,” replied the officer of the Yucatan. “If he were to turn on them they’d stop and, from a safe place, continue their bombardment. He’ll find shelter some place.”
Before they could return to the launch which would take them back to the ship, the swarm of children again came into view, rushing for them.
“Quick!” cried the officer, “into the boat. They’ll run right over us. They’ve caught a sight of silver and they won’t let us alone until we give them some, or until we are out of reach.”
He hustled the others toward the small boat at a run, and succeeded in getting them in before the native children reached the water’s edge. Then the boat put off for the ship.
A cry of anger went up from the shore.
“Duck!” cried the officer, himself taking his place in the stern and grasping the rudder.