"We can't travel fast in the lagoon, sir," Dave answered, "and Cosetta's men can run as fast along the shore, keeping up a fire that would be more deadly when we're crowded together aboard the launch. I want to silence the scoundrel's fire, if possible, before we try the dash out into the Gulf."
"You appear to have discouraged the men who flanked you," said
Mr. Carmody, looking towards the shore.
"Yes, sir; but, judging by the rifle flashes there were not more than twenty men in that flanking party. We still have to hear from another body, and I believe they are hiding in the mill, ready to snipe us from there. Besides, probably a smaller party has been sent from the flankers to lie in wait and get us as we go through the lagoon. It's a bad trap, Mr. Carmody, and we must move slowly, if we wish to get away with our lives."
While they stood watching, Riley's handful of men came running to the spot.
At the same moment shots rang out from the roof of the sugar mill.
"There we are!" Darrin exclaimed. "And men on a roof are the hardest to hit."
In a jiffy a yell rose from the flankers, who now rose and came charging forward across some four hundred feet of intervening space.
"Give 'em the Colt, Corporal!" Ensign Darrin roared.
There was a yell of rage from the Mexicans as the machine gun barked forth. With the muzzle describing an arc of several degrees, many of the flankers were hit. The others threw themselves flat on the ground to escape its destructive fire.
From the mill another score of charging Mexicans had started, yelling in Spanish: