The Project Gutenberg eBook of Young Glory and the Spanish Cruiser, by Walter Fenton Mott.

Issued Semi-Monthly—By Subscription $1.25 per year. Entered as Second Class Matter at the New York, N. Y., Post Office, March 26, 1898.

Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1898, in the office of the Librarian of Congress, Washington, D. C., by Frank Tousey, 29 West 26th Street, New York.

Young Glory and the Spanish Cruiser;

—OR—
A BRAVE FIGHT AGAINST ODDS.

BY AUTHOR OF YOUNG GLORY.

TABLE OF CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.

SHOOTING A PRISONER OF WAR—A COMRADE TO THE RESCUE.

The first speaker, a Spanish officer, laughed mockingly as he uttered this apology.

Dan had been a boatswain's mate on the battle ship Indiana, then on the Cruiser Columbia, and he was now filling a similar position on the Cruiser Brooklyn. Dan Daly was Young Glory's bosom friend, and the Irishman had been the companion of the gallant young hero in many of the daring exploits that had given him world-wide fame.

A landing party from the Brooklyn had been surprised by a body of Spaniards in a small village, not many miles from Matanzas, an important town on the north coast of Cuba.

After a short but desperate encounter, the American sailors, overwhelmed by numbers had retired to their boats, leaving Dan Daly behind, a prisoner in the hands of the Spaniards.

A short, quick trial took place. Dan was denounced as a spy, and instantly sentenced to death. It was ordered that the sentence should be carried out at once. So now Dan stood looking death calmly in the face as he had so often done before.

A file of soldiers was rapidly marching to the place of execution, and their heavy tread could be plainly heard as each moment they drew nearer.

The prisoner was standing against a wall, and immediately behind him was a closed door, which was the rear entrance to a large house in the village.

"Ah! how are the men?" said the Spanish officer. "So your waiting days are over."

The file of soldiers drew up about thirty yards from the doomed man, and as they grounded arms the sound sent a sickening sensation through the brave Irishman's heart.

"Shure, it's not war, but murther's your trade," said Dan. "It's the haythins thimselves wouldn't be afther tratin' me this way."

"Talk on," said the Spaniard, coolly, "if it does you any good. It won't alter matters. You have been condemned, and must die."

"You won't ask when you see the Stars an' Stripes, the flag of the free, floatin' over this island."

"That day will never come. Bah!" he added, stamping on the ground, "why do I waste time talking to a miserable Yankee spy?"

"Silence! I ask you if you have any request to make. If possible, it shall be carried out."

"It's Young Glory I'd like to spake to. I'd like to shake his hand—" Dan's voice faltered here—"before I die."

"That young wretch!" cried the Spaniard, savagely. "So you're his friend?"[Pg 2]

The Spanish captain glared fiercely at Dan. Then he faced round towards his men.

The brave fellow had refused to have his eyes bandaged, and now he was staring defiantly at the men who were to be his executioners.

"They may miss you, senor, the first time," said the Spaniard. "Our men can't fire as straight as you Yankees."

Dan Daly understood what this speech meant. It was virtually a command to the firing party not to kill at the first volley. They intended to prolong Dan's agony.

The Spaniard bit his lips with passion. He saw that he could not subdue the proud spirit of the American sailor, and he had hoped to see him writhing on the ground with fear, begging for mercy.

"Yankees are animals, not men," he said, savagely. "No matter, the world is about to be rid of one of them."

The words were not spoken by Dan, yet they seemed to come from the spot where he was standing.

Instantly the door in the wall was thrown open, and a man dashed through. He seemed to be a Spaniard, for he was wearing the Spanish costume.

Before the officer could raise a hand to defend himself, the stranger was within a yard of him, holding a six-shooter at his head.

The firing party had lowered their rifles. They had broken their ranks, and were talking together excitedly and rapidly.

By this time the Spanish officer had somewhat recovered from his surprise, and the color which had left his cheeks began to return.

"Ah! That's a different question, and I'll give you an answer. You have a prisoner here, an American sailor."

"Now, senor capitan, you are between me and your soldiers. Your late prisoner is behind me. If your men fire, whom will they hit?"

The officer trembled. He saw that it was impossible for his assailant to receive one bullet. The soldiers were also aware of this fact, and so they stood motionless, not daring to fire.

"I was not speaking to that fool, but to you. I ask, supposing you kill me, what follows?"

"You heard me. Walk steadily forward. I'll step backwards keeping my eye fixed on your soldiers. I don't want any harm to happen to you, and they may fire without thinking."

The stranger made a sign to Dan to go before him, so now the prisoner, the stranger and the captain stood in single file, the last named being nearest the soldiers and thus acting as a perfect shield.

With these words, finding the officer did not move, the stranger held his six-shooter a little nearer to him, and gave the Spaniard a threatening look.

"You have me in your power. I must, but I will have a bitter revenge. Senor, you are cowardly!"

"Cowardly! Ha! Ha! a pretty accusation from you. What! you talk about cowardice! You, who don't know how to treat a brave enemy as a prisoner[Pg 3] of war, but place him up against a wall to have him shot down as if he was a dog. Senor capitan," continued the stranger, speaking very sternly, "you have excited my hatred. Another such speech as your last and you will earn my contempt."

"And yourself, senor, where shall I find you?" asked the officer, sarcastically.

With these words he grasped the Spanish officer by the shoulders, and using all his strength to throw him backwards, sending him with such force to the ground that he rolled many yards.

Then like lightning he dashed through the doorway, closing the door behind him, instantly.

They were too late to do any damage, for the door was closed before the soldiers fired.

"And who else did you think it was?" retorted Young Glory, as he led the way through the garden.

CHAPTER II.

FLYING FOR THEIR LIVES—A BOLD EXPEDIENT.

Even if this did not give way, it was an easy matter to scale the wall. So Dan Daly and Young Glory had no time to lose.

A narrow passage led to the side of the house, and as the fugitives reached it, a man stood in their way.

"But we do," retorted Young Glory, bounding forward, and giving the man a furious blow in the face with his fist. Down he went like a log.

"Now our troubles commence," said Young Glory. "Across this court-yard, or patis as they call it, Dan, and then we're in the street."

Several people, evidently servants belonging to the house rushed into the patis, but none of them attempted to interfere with the two Americans. They seemed completely scared, and stood with startled looks on their faces as the fugitives dashed past.

This part of the village was deserted, for all the people had gone round to the rear of the house where the execution of Dan Daly was to have taken place. It was a sight they did not care to miss.

So Young Glory and Dan crossed the road and then entered a thick wood, which seemed to them to have no paths in it.

Through it they pushed their way, listening intently for sounds of their pursuers. Their progress was slow, but so would that be of the men who were after them. The only advantage the latter possessed was that they knew the country.

"No, there's no river in these parts. I'm certain of that. It must be a creek—part of the sea, in fact."

"Faith, it's small use talkin' about it. It's there, an', begorra, our goose is cooked; we can niver get any further."

"And be shot down. How long would it take us to get to the other side? Why, if we escaped the bullets the Spaniards would send after us, we'd find the enemy waiting for us when we landed. That's so, Dan; take my word for it."

"It's savin' time I want to be. We can't escape. It's yourself said so, an' shure I'll jist go back an' meet the Spaniards."

"Pshaw! We are not captured yet, Dan! There are more ways than one of getting out of a difficulty. We'll keep along by the creek, close to the trees, ready to get amongst them if anybody shows up."

Now, Young Glory knew the position was very serious. He had not the faintest notice how they were to escape.

It might have been possible for him to have got away, but not for Dan. The Irishman was wearing an American naval uniform. To desert Dan, of course, never entered Young Glory's head.

"I'm not. Stay where you are, Dan. That is to say, get amongst these trees till you hear from me."

Before Dan could say a word, Young Glory was gone, and the Irishman, mindful of his safety, hid himself amid the bushes, still keeping a watch on the house to which his comrade was going.[Pg 4]

Young Glory walked boldly up to the hut, for it was no more, and hammered sharply on the door.

He had no cause for fear. He was dressed in the native costume, and spoke the language perfectly.

It was some few minutes before any one answered his summons, and then the door was opened by as villainous-looking a man as Young Glory thought he had ever set eyes on.

The man was apparently about forty years old, not tall, but broad-shouldered and strong.

"Come, come, that's not very civil. A drink and a rest is what I should expect you to invite me to have."

"Go on expecting," answered the man, savagely, showing his teeth as he spoke. "It's all you'll get out of me, senor."

"If I want to live alone," answered the man, adopting a threatening attitude as he spoke, "is it anybody's business but mine?"

Then to himself he said: "Now, I know there's no one else in the house. Good, that decides me."

"Well, comrade," said Young Glory, smilingly, "people tell me that I've a way with me there's no resisting."

Quick as a flash, just as the words came from his lips, Young Glory drew his six-shooter from his belt, and held it at the man's head.

"Ha! Ha!" laughed Young Glory, "you change color. You see I was right. Don't you think so?"

"What's your game?" asked the man, sullenly. "I've done you no harm, never seen you in my life before, so you can't want to kill me. And as for robbing me, well, try it. If you get enough to buy yourself a drink I'll be surprised."

The last two cries were meant for Dan, who heard them, and was in time to see Young Glory entering the hut. Dan noticed that his comrade had signed to him, and he immediately ran towards the place.

"The top of the mornin' to ye, senor," cried Dan, taking off his cap, gravely. "It's meself's plased to meet you."

"Our friend's not polite, Dan," said Young Glory. "I've found that out already. But, to business."

The sight of the pistol effectually settled the matter, and Dan did his work so expeditiously that the man was lying at the rear of the hut hidden under a heap of rubbish in a very few minutes.

"Oh! I stay here," answered Young Glory, carelessly. "You see, the men in pursuit of you will come up very soon, and I must be here to receive them."

"Not after they've heard my story. I'll put them off the trail. Quick! Get away!"

Young Glory ran to the door of the hut. Then he came back with a look of dismay on his face.

"Too late, I said. The Spaniards are coming up by the creek. You can't get away from this house now without being seen."

"It's your own fault," answered Young Glory, impatiently. "You would waste the precious moments by arguing the point, so see what you've brought us to. There's only one thing for you to do now. Under with you."

"Get alongside our friend. Keep him company. Lie still, Dan. It's your only chance."

Young Glory assisted in covering Dan up, and this done, he threw off the hat and cloak he was wearing, and secreted them. Then he hastily assumed some old garments he found in the hut, rubbed some dirt over his face, pulled his hat over his eyes, and with a cigarette between his lips took his station at the door to wait for the soldiers.

Spanish soldiers are not very ceremonious in their treatment of civilians. So Young Glory found himself roughly addressed by the officer in charge of the detachment.

"They must have passed this way," said the officer,[Pg 5] in a low voice, to his sergeant. "The fellow's deceiving us."

"Pardon, senor capitan," said Young Glory. "I have something to say. Just now I saw two men."

"They came out of the wood about two hundred yards below, and seeing me standing at the door they darted back again into the trees."

"Ask him what they were like," whispered the sergeant. "That will test his story."

"Like! well, now, it wasn't as if I had many minutes to examine them, and, besides it was too far off for me to tell the color of their hair or eyes."

"One of them seemed to be a civilian, a Cuban I should say, capitan. The other, was certainly a sailor, a navy man, the——"

CHAPTER III.

MORE VISITORS TO THE HUT—DAN DALY ROWS DOWN THE CREEK.

"You can crawl out of your shell, Dan, now," said Young Glory, when the last soldier had disappeared.

"It's great ye are, Young Glory. There's nobody but yourself could decave them. It's time we have for talkin' now, an' it's mesilf 'd like to know how ye stopped them spalpeens from shootin' me."

"When I saw you taken prisoner, Dan, I determined to save you. The boats went back to the cruiser, but I didn't."

"Yes. By good luck I managed to get into a house while everyone was away, and get a change of clothes. Then I came to look after you. Why, I was present when they tried you."

"It's food an' drink I'm afther," he explained, "an' partic'larly the last. Ha! what's this? Wine! Well, it can't be helped."

"A drop of the craythur, shure. It's much I'd give for three fingers of whisky."

The two seamen made a good meal of some cold fish and bread and the bottle of wine, most of which latter going down Dan's throat.

"It's Captain Miles won't go away, Young Glory. He'll be afther kapin' the cruiser near."

"Yes, I feel certain he will. I've no doubt he's doing his best to rescue you, Dan."

And so the two talked on, Dan smoking and Young Glory thinking how they might make their escape.

Young Glory from time to time went to the door of the hut and glanced up and down the road. Now he came back quickly.

In the event of a thorough search it was absolutely certain that Dan would be discovered.

As the soldiers approached the hut, Young Glory tried hard to maintain his calm. He saw with surprise that all these men were officers. So much he could tell from their uniforms.

When they came to the hut they found Young Glory sitting at the table, busily engaged in mending some fishing lines which he had found in the hut.

"My good fellow," answered the Spanish officer, "myself and my friends here won't interfere with your work. Go on, I beg. We only seek a short rest."

"It is nothing," he said. "My friend who lives here is away to-day, and I am keeping house for him, so I thought I would do a little work."

"Has he anything in the drinking line?" cried a young lieutenant. "That's more to the point."

"You don't speak very often, Ruiz," said one of the officers, "but when you do, you display the wisdom of Solomon."

The officers, making themselves quite at home, bustled about the hut, as Dan had done, searching for drink.[Pg 6]

"But it's found," cried one of the officers, gayly. "Why, my good fellow, your friend must be in the liquor business. He's a regular cellar of wine here. Come on, gentlemen; take your choice. Here's claret from France, Rhine wine, brandy, Amontillado from Spain, and whisky and wine from America."

"Good sense again, Ruiz. Let us try the Amontillado. It will remind us of our country."

The proposition found favor, and several bottles were opened, and the soldiers helped themselves.

"My good fellow, it's a matter of indifference to us what he is. He's a benefactor of his species, anyway. Don't you agree with me, gentlemen?"

Young Glory began to breathe more freely now. There was not a word said as to the escape of Dan Daly and the search for him.

Very soon he discovered from the talk that the officers were in complete ignorance of it. They were posted with their regiment a considerable distance from the village, and were now on their way to headquarters there.

What they had said was true. They had merely stopped at the hut in the hope of obtaining refreshment. No doubt they would soon take their departure.

The wine loosened their tongues, and they began to talk freely. Young Glory lost not a word of what was being said, for it seemed likely that he would hear something that might prove valuable.

"Why ask him? He'll be waiting for the fair Julia. Her eyes will glance at him from the balcony."

"And if you did, you would be wrong. No, comrades, luck's against me to-night. I'm on duty."

"I wish you good-by, Ruiz," said one of the officers, solemnly. "Old fellow, I pity you!"

"Pshaw! there's no danger. It's only the discomfort I'm thinking of. We are going to bring the ammunition to this place by water."

"But the American cruiser. Think of that, Ruiz. She's sure to be hanging around."

"No. We shall be in small boats and keep close in to shore. Now, the Yankee cruiser must stay a good way out, for the water's not deep enough to let her in. To-night will be dark. There's no moon till two o'clock, and so it's simplicity itself to get the stuff through."

"Never saw one of them in my life. But the order was given me, and that's enough."

"I have to get a good horse. The most dangerous part of the business is getting to Valmosa, because I must go near the rebel lines."

"Good luck to Ruiz!" cried all his comrades, emptying their glasses as they spoke.

"Thank you, gentlemen, thank you. My good fellow, your wine was excellent. If you should hear a horseman gallop past your hut to-night, don't be alarmed. It will only be me."

"Faith, it's more than flesh an' blood could stand. Arrah! but me mouth watered when I heard the glasses clinkin'. The spalpeens!" he cried in dismay, "they've not left a drop for me."

"I say you won't. It will be dark, Dan, in one hour. There's a boat lying down on the creek."

"Everything. You'll get on board that boat, go down the creek into the sea, and try and find the[Pg 7] cruiser. The Brooklyn won't be far off. You must take a light with you and give a signal."

"That's exactly what it is, Dan. You're old enough to be trusted alone, you know."

"Trust me to get it out again. Now, don't interrupt me. I've a letter to write."

Dan busily employed himself with the whisky whilst Young Glory was writing his letter.

"He's the only Captain Miles I know. Now, Dan, it's very important that that letter should reach Captain Miles as soon as possible. You understand me?"

The two men left the hut. The boat was moored immediately opposite, and in it were a pair of sculls.

Young Glory would not allow a moment to be wasted. He unhitched the painter and pushed off the boat. Then, having seen Dan start on his dangerous mission, he went back to the hut.

CHAPTER IV.

YOUNG GLORY AND CAPTAIN RUIZ CALDERON—IN THE CAMP OF THE PATRIOTS.

If he had told Dan what it was, the Irishman would have done his best to dissuade him from it.

But Young Glory instead of changing his mind, became more fixed in his purpose as the time flew by.

"I don't see why it should fail," he said to himself, as he sat listening intently. "Ah! there he is. Well, the die is cast, or will be in a few minutes, anyway. I'll go through with it to the end."

He passed his hand through his thick golden curls which his sombrero had hitherto concealed. Then he hurriedly went out and posted himself behind a large tree a few yards from the hut.

Nearer and nearer came the noise that had attracted his attention. A horseman was approaching at a rapid rate, that was clear.

"Captain Calderon for certain," said Young Glory to himself. "There won't be any time to see, so I must assume it's he and take my chances."

It was so dark that he could not see the horseman, though he knew he must be very near by the sound. Then, suddenly, out into the road he sprang.

The horseman seemed astounded. Many men could have dashed by regardless of consequences, but this man reined in his steed instantly, drawing the animal back on its haunches.

As he did so Young Glory drew up close to him, still keeping him covered with his six-shooter.

There was a light coming from the hut, for Young Glory had left the door open, and by it both men were able to distinguish each other.

"Demand! A strange word from a helpless man, senor. Are you aware that you are in my power, senor. Come, come, don't drive me to extremities. I should be sorry to have to injure a gallant young officer like yourself, but I tell you plainly, captain, that if you hesitate, my duty will compel me to kill you!"

There was something in the tone with which these words were spoken, more than in the words themselves, which impressed the officer.

He realized now that he had not, as he had supposed at first, a drunkard to deal with. But he was still completely at a loss to know what was meant.

However, he reasoned that a few minutes' chat in the hut, would certainly lead to a satisfactory explanation.

So he dismounted, and Young Glory took possession of his pistol and also his horse. The latter he instantly hitched up to a hook driven in the wall of the hut.

"Now, fellow," said the captain, when the two men found themselves in the hut, "what does this foolery mean?"

The latter stepped back quickly, raising his six-shooter as he did so, and pointing it at his captive.

"You are foolish," said Young Glory. "You cannot compete with me, and you ought to understand that."

What was causing the Spaniard to stare so? Not the fact that he was threatened by Young Glory's six-shooter. No, but because when Young Glory had moved backwards, his sombrero had dropped off his head, thus exposing his thick yellow curls.

"You are not a Spaniard," said Captain Calderon, astounded at the change in his captor.

"You will when this night is over. My work has only just commenced. Come, captain, you and I must not quarrel. You are a brave man, I know. Don't drive me to extremities. I must have your uniform and I'll give you—these."

A soldier soon recognizes the truth. A civilian is more disposed to argue. So the result was that Captain Calderon yielded with the best grace he could, and commenced to undress.

Young Glory, meanwhile, was doing the same, and in a few minutes the exchange had been effected.

"They fit me beautifully, capitan. Don't you think so? Why, really, I'm not a conceited chap, but I don't think it would be well for you if the fair Julia saw me to-night."

"So you were listening to what I and my comrades were saying?" asked the captain, with a black look on his face.

"I heard every word. It's a way I have, and I find it extremely useful sometimes. I shall to-night."

"For a man of your intelligence that is a very foolish question, senor. No, you will stay here. I shall have to secure you, bind you up in fact, and also gag you."

"Yes, you might raise an alarm. You have an excellent voice as I heard when you were drinking."

Young Glory, as a seaman, had no difficulty in fixing the cords so that they would hold, and whilst he was talking, he went on with the work.

"Why? All is fair in war. You would do the same to me if it served you and I was in your power. But we shall talk all night if we get on this strain. You won't be lonely for I have provided a companion for you. See!"

Young Glory raised the clothes that covered the owner of the hut and exposed him to view.

Whilst the captain was staring in astonishment at what he saw, Young Glory extinguished the light, left the hut, and closed the door securely after him.

Sailors do not excel as horsemen, but Young Glory was an exception to the rule. Before he had enlisted he had passed several years in the west, and the animal who tried to unseat him had a very difficult task to perform.

"The road to Valmosa," he muttered. "Guess that won't be hard to find. I know where Valmosa lies, and roads are not very plentiful in this benighted land, so I won't have much trouble if I stick to the one I'm on."

Young Glory's danger was in falling into the hands of some Spaniards. They might happen to be comrades of Ruiz, and it would be almost impossible to deceive them. But this did not daunt him. He had understood all these dangers before he took this desperate project in hand, and he thought of them now, merely because he had nothing else to do.

Gradually the path—it was really little better than a mule path—descended towards the sea, and Young Glory was pleased because he knew Valmosa was on the coast, and this seemed to show him he was on the right road.

A dozen men sprang from the surrounding trees. Two men sprang forward and seized his horse's bridle, the others, with threatening gestures, threw themselves in his way, barring his further progress.

"Caramba, senor, but you're in a hurry," said a man, who appeared to be their leader.

"You have judged rightly, senor," answered Young Glory, "I am in a hurry. Let me proceed."

"You are a Spanish officer. You must be mad to talk in this way," was the stern answer.

"He must die!" whispered several of the men. "We give no quarter now, since those Spanish wretches have commenced shooting their prisoners in cold blood."

Half a dozen pistols were leveled at the boy, and as many machetes flashed in the air.

The weapons that had threatened Young Glory's life were at once lowered, but the men seemed to receive his statement with great suspicion. They con[Pg 9]ferred together hastily, still retaining their hold on the young hero's horse.

"We cannot decide this question. You may be an American sailor, or you may be a spy. That is for others to determine. You must come with us to the general."

"Hurry, then, I beg. For, senors, a project I have in view for the benefit of your cause will fail if I am long delayed."

They pushed through the woods, the patriots finding paths that Young Glory would have searched for in vain.

Some half mile was traversed in this fashion, when a sentinel challenged. The answer was satisfactory, and on they went.

Then past one picket after another they went, showing what faithful guard the patriots kept, until the order to halt was given, and Young Glory found himself near a large fire around which were a number of Cuban officers.

"And a valuable one, too," was the answer, as the general glanced at Young Glory. "A captain at the very least. Has he been searched?"

"It is needless to search me," said Young Glory, advancing slightly towards the general. "I am not what I seem. I am an American seaman. My name is Young Glory."

CHAPTER V.

AT VALMOSA—YOUNG GLORY DENOUNCED.

Young Glory's face fell. Here he saw all his hopes dashed to the ground. He determined to make one more effort.

"But if you stop me, a certain scheme against the Spaniards that I can carry through to success, will fail. I tell you it is so."

"No matter. I have said before we do not know you, so we must detain you for inquiries."

"I'm Captain Calderon, or rather," said Young Glory, with a laugh, "I'm supposed to be to-night."

"No. Made him change clothes with me, tied him securely, and left him in a cottage on a creek belonging to a fisherman."

"Certainly. It was necessary for the success of my plans. Send to the cottage, if it's possible to do so."

It was rather dangerous work to venture so near the Spanish lines, but four patriots volunteered at once, and the general, after giving them a few brief instructions, sent them on their way.

Well mounted, if no mischance happens to them, they would soon be back, and Young Glory, who was in a boiling passion, quite ignored the presence of the Cubans, and threw himself on the ground to rest while awaiting the result.

"I believe he is Young Glory," said the general to one of his officers. "He doesn't look like an impostor."

"Well, he's in a temper because I've done my duty. Let him alone. His young blood will soon cool."

So it did, and Young Glory, on thinking calmly over the matter, saw that he could not have expected any different treatment to what he had received.

"I have thought no more of it. Have a cigar. You'll find them good. They taste better perhaps to me," he added, with a laugh, "because the tobacco was grown by a Spaniard, one of our bitterest enemies, and they cost nothing."

The time seemed long. In reality the men—or at least two of them—were back in an incredibly short space of time.

"Quite true, general, only he forgot to say that he had left two prisoners in the hut."

"Yes, general," said Young Glory. "One of them is the man who lives in the hut."

As Young Glory told the story of the marvelous escape of Dan Daly from the firing party, with the subsequent details of the pursuit and eventful safety, the men gathered round and listened with bated breath.

"Senor, it is marvelous!" exclaimed the general, when the recital was ended. "I had heard something of the extraordinary escape of the American prisoner before. Now tell me of your future plans."

"Stand back, senores," said the general, waving his hand, "except Colonel Mendez, my chief."

"That is the same as yourself, general," replied Young Glory, bowing to the officer who had been named.

"If you can send some of them on the road with me to point out the way I shall be glad, but they must not go near Valmosa. If they were seen with me that would spoil all."

"Success to you, Young Glory," said the general, pressing his hand as he was riding off.

"Caramba! my friend, your deeds show that. There's not another man would do such things. Adios."

Once more Young Glory was in the saddle with two of the patriots riding alongside him. Under their guidance he made rapid progress.

"Yonder, where you see the lights is Valmosa. Goodness only knows how you will reach it."

Once more Young Glory was alone, riding rapidly to the scene of his desperate undertaking.

It was a challenge by the sentry. Young Glory had, of course, expected this, and he was ready.

"Dispatches from Monterey!" he cried, instantly, thinking by so doing that the sentry would not demand the watch-word for the night.

The scheme was successful. The sentry told him to advance, keeping his rifle on him the while, until he had satisfied himself of the truth.

One obstacle was surmounted. The rest was easy. In a few minutes Young Glory found himself in Valmosa.

"If he knows Ruiz Calderon, I'm lost," was Young Glory's reflection as he entered the commandant's room.

The commandant took the letter and tore it open, scarcely giving Young Glory a glance.

"To-night you have work before you that will prove your strength. You are to command the expedition that starts for Monterey."

"I think you are right, colonel. There seems to be every reason for hurrying. You spoke of danger."

"Who knows? Those ships carry great searchlights now, and they can light up the water."

"Let them. They have to sink us after they find us and it's not easy to hit a small boat at long range."

Young Glory was leaving the room when he passed a man he thought he knew, but it was somewhat dark and he only had a mere glance.

"That's Captain Calderon—" it was the commandant speaking—"he leads the expedition."

During the last few months he had been through so many scenes, and he had met with so many strange faces, that he was quite unable to satisfy himself as to the identity of the owner of the voice.

Two large craft contained ammunition. A smaller one was in advance, filled with sailors and soldiers, in order to tow the heavier craft along.

Young Glory speedily took in the whole of the arrangements. He might have preferred to make some changes, but his object now was to get out of Valmosa with all speed. Rapidly he gave his orders. The men seemed to have no suspicion, and all was going smoothly. Yet Young Glory could not get out of his mind the stranger who had passed him at the commandant's headquarters.

Instantly the men on the pier let the boats loose, and the men bent to their oars.

"Row, my lads, long and steady. You've a hard pull before you," said Young Glory, "and you'll need all your strength."

"Rather different to our blue jackets," was Young Glory's reflection. "Why, Dan Daly and half a dozen of our fellows would lick the whole crowd."

There was commotion on shore at this instant. Anxiously Young Glory looked towards the pier. He could see nothing on account of the darkness, but he heard the pattering of feet. One man, if not more, was hurrying towards the end of the pier.

Then Young Glory heard some shouting, but the roar of the sea prevented him from distinguishing the words.

"They've caught a spy," exclaimed Young Glory, quickly, to turn the men's thoughts away from himself. "Hurry up, lads, and you may get back in time to see the fun, for he'll have to die, that's sure."

Not another word reached the boat. Yet, Young Glory felt by no means safe. He knew that a boat might be sent off to overtake him, and then he was lost entirely.

But as the minutes passed, and he heard no sound of pursuing oars, he became easier in his mind.

To get out of possible danger from shore, he ordered the men to row out towards the sea, but here he was beaten. The waves ran high and the boats were in great danger of being swamped. Back to the shore again he had to go, and adhere to the original plan of creeping along by the beach.

Suddenly above their heads a figure, which looked unnaturally tall in the darkness, rose on a great bowlder which overshadowed the water.

"You have a traitor in that boat!" cried this apparition. "The man with you is not Captain Calderon. It is Young Glory!"

CHAPTER VI.

FIGHTING IN THE BOATS—DAN DALY ARRIVES.

It was a wonder that the boats were not overturned. The men stopped rowing, and so the craft containing the ammunition drifted up against them, and they were all in a mass together.

The actions of many of the men were most violent and threatening. They uttered fierce cries, and assailed Young Glory with menaces.

These were the cries that were now heard. But a clear voice came from the shore. It was that of the man who had denounced Young Glory.

"Do not kill him," he said. "Traitors must be treated differently. Make a prisoner of him."

"Own or not," was the stern answer, "it will be bad for those who refuse to obey me. I am Jose Castro!"

Everyone had heard of the famous Spanish spy, whose services to Spain in the war had been immense.

"Jose Castro!" muttered Young Glory. "And I thought I had seen his hated face for the last time when he sank in the river at Seville. Such men never die. I am lost," he added, "but I will die fighting!"

Three men came towards him. They were bent on carrying out the spy's orders, and were about to seize him.

"We are fifty to one. To fight is useless," said the Spanish soldier. "You will be killed."

"Then I will die fighting. Back! I say," he added, as the men pressed forward. "I will never be taken alive!"

Then down it came on the nearest man's head. He dropped. A moment later one of his companions was lying in his blood. The third man hesitated.

"This shall cost you dearly," said Young Glory, defiantly, as he faced the crowd.

"No, no! There must be no firing," said one of the sergeants. "A noise will bring the guns of the American cruiser on us. Once more, will you surrender?"

Such an order is easier given than obeyed. Men cannot move about a boat with perfect freedom, and Young Glory standing in the stern was a desperate foe.

Two men fell before Young Glory's terrible sword, and the boy himself was not hurt.

Young Glory heard the sound of oars behind him, and he saw on turning his head, that one of the Spanish boats was hastily coming up. Attacked on both sides the end was certain.

It was necessary to do something at once. To jump into the water was no good. The boats would row after him and capture him in a few minutes. In the sea he would be quite powerless to defend himself.

"Are you mad?" shouted Jose Castro, from the rock. "Do you want everyone to know where you are? Out with that flame if you value your lives!"

"Not yet!" cried Young Glory, springing forward like lightning. He seized the burning torch, and with a quick movement tore it from the sergeant's hand.

Then he jumped back to his post on the stern seat of the boat, and instantly he began to wave the torch above his head.

Still Young Glory waved the torch, hoping it might be seen by those on the cruiser Brooklyn. Even then it was doubtful if they could do anything.

The boat that had been coming up at the stern missed its mark, and ran in between the two ammunition boats.

Then Young Glory saw that he was saved for a few minutes at all events. The torch still waved, and Jose Castro stormed and raved at the men in the boats.

"Yes, don't you see that if I continue to wave it, the American cruisers will fire and send you all to the bottom of the sea?"

"Oh, that doesn't matter! If I can take fifty Spaniards there with me, I shall be satisfied."

Quick as a flash he sprang from the stern of the boat where he had been standing, into the nearest of the two boats that contained the ammunition.

The boat that was coming up, rushed in, locking itself between the other two boats.

"You will kill me, you say!" hissed Young Glory through his clenched teeth. "Try it on! If you move one step, or one of you raises a finger I will set fire to the powder, and blow you all up!"

Many of them were so appalled that they sprang into the water and began to swim to shore.

"No," returned Young Glory. "No man must move or lift a finger, or I fire the powder."

Young Glory clearly commanded the situation, but how long would it last? One of the men who had swam ashore might have a rifle, and if so, no doubt he would fire at Young Glory.

But the sergeant was not satisfied even with this. For he saw that if Young Glory fell dead in the ammunition boat the torch would fall too, and then what would happen? It was too dreadful to think about.

It was Jose Castro who was firing. But as he was only possessed of a six-shooter and the distance was great, Young Glory did not stand in fear of any of the bullets the spy might send.

However, he told him to desist, as it was quite possible he might do some injury. Jose sternly declined, and when Young Glory threatened to blow up the boats, he told him to do so.

"Well, let him fire," muttered Young Glory. "He does good, really, for he's making a noise, and that's what I want. Dan! Dan!"

"Faith, it's here I am!" said a well known voice, and immediately the bow of a boat shot around the nearest point of land.

"Alone!" cried Young Glory, in dismay. He had expected to see Dan come with not less than three of the cruiser's boats.

"That accounts for it," muttered Young Glory.[Pg 13] "Well, I'm in a pretty mess now, and I've dragged Dan into it, which is worse."

"Because, Dan, I'm standing with powder and shot all around me, and if I happened to drop this torch—I threatened to do it—the consequence would be very serious."

"You'll make him hand over his arms, sword and gun, mind, and six-shooter. Even a stilletto, if he has such a thing."

Dan went to work with a vengeance. Not a man offered resistance. What, between Young Glory's torch and Dan's six-shooter the men were fairly cowed, and one after another they handed over their weapons. Dan Daly threw them carelessly at the bottom of his boat.

"It's no arms they have, but fists now, Young Glory, an' shure they don't count, for a Spaniard wants a knife in his hand, anyway."

"Very good. Now take your oars," said Young Glory, sternly. "The boats' heads are pointed to sea. Pull right out with all your strength. If any man refuses, I'll shoot him dead!"

CHAPTER VII.

ARRIVAL AT THE BROOKLYN—DISCOVERING A RAFT.

Instantly they bent over their oars, and the boats once more began to move. Young Glory, torch in hand, still stood in the bow of one of the ammunition boats.

"You shall all be shot!" he cried. "The general will have you killed as traitors."

"Faith, an' I know the gentleman," he said, "though it's his name that's not in my mind now."

The Irishman took up one of the rifles that lay at the bottom of the boat. It was loaded. He put it to his shoulder and fired.

But by this time Jose had vanished. He had no desire to become a target for Dan Daly's rifle practice.

Meanwhile, the boats were rapidly nearing the shore behind, and fortunately the waves had fallen, or it would have gone hard with everybody.

Young Glory was keenly searching the water for the cruiser. He thought it possible that seeing the torch burning, he might show a light. This, of course was doubtful, for war ships in an enemy's waters, never display a light of any kind at night.

"But it will. It shows we are not an enemy, for enemies don't give notice of their coming."

From the cruiser came a burst of laughter. Evidently the people there had recognized the Irishman's voice.

The boats were nearer to the cruiser than they appeared to be, and a few minutes after this talk they were alongside the Brooklyn.

There was a crowd of officers standing around him. Late though it was, they were mostly on deck, for the light shown near the shore had excited their curiosity, and for a long time past they had been watching it, and discussing its meaning.[Pg 14]

"Arrah! an' ye'd betther be steppin' up lively, ye spalpeens. It's the skipper himself's waitin' to see ye."

Not a word of this speech did any of the Spaniards understand, but Young Glory instantly translated it for their benefit.

There were not less than forty of them, and it may be imagined that their appearance created a great sensation.

"Now, Young Glory, you and Dan Daly will come to my cabin at once. I want to hear all that's happened."

And he sat spellbound whilst Young Glory related the whole story, beginning with Dan's escape, and ending with the capture of the boats.

"It's a letter I had for you, sir," said Dan, "but faith, I couldn't get out to sea."

"No, no!" exclaimed Captain Miles, eagerly, taking possession of it. "This letter shall be preserved. It will be a memento of one of the bravest actions ever done by an American seaman."

Their comrades insisted on hearing every detail of their marvelous adventures, and the day had dawned before they sank to rest.

Each of them was indulged with an unusual allowance of sleep that night, on account of their great exertions, and when they awoke and went on deck, the shores of Cuba had faded from sight, and the gallant Cruiser Brooklyn was steaming through the Caribbean sea in an easterly direction.

"It's Porto Rico we're going to," cried one of the sailors. "I heard an officer say so."

The men were in the highest spirits now. They had not enjoyed the work of the past few days, cruising about off Valmosa and Monterey. Inaction is the last thing a blue jacket appreciates.

Now there was always something to do, and Captain Miles, a first-class officer, saw that everything was done to perfection.

"If we do go into action," he said, "it will not be our fault if we are beaten!"

One of the officers instantly went to the top with his binocular, bringing it to bear on a small, far distant speck on the ocean.

"Looks like a small boat, sir. Perhaps there may be people aboard, but at present it's impossible to say."

Mr. Robson was a lieutenant on the Brooklyn. He had been early in the war on the battle ship Indiana. There Young Glory had served under him, and had learned to appreciate the attention to duty and the bravery displayed by this gallant officer.

"We shall see in a minute or two what is best to be done, Mr. Robson. We're running directly for the sail."

"You're right," said the captain, after another look. "A raft, sure enough, and what's more, is that there are people on it. Order out two boats."

To lower the boats and man them does not take[Pg 15] long on board a man-of-war. Every man knows his place, and the operation proceeds like clock work.

In a few minutes they were flying over the water towards the raft. Very soon they saw it was crowded with people. Some of them raised their hands as they saw the boats draw near.

Half of the occupants of the raft were dead men. The survivors seemed to be, many of them, at the point of death. Very few had strength enough to rise even to a sitting position.

"No time for talking, lads," said Lieutenant Robson. "Get them back to the ship at once."

Some stimulants had been taken with the boats, and by the time that the Brooklyn was reached one of the men had recovered sufficiently to talk. The others were carried below and given at once into the hands of the surgeon.

"Yes, captain. I'm the mate of the Mary Parker, a fruit ship bound from Rio Janeiro to New Orleans. We were attacked by the Spaniards, and our ship was captured."

"The cargo—that is, the valuable part of it—was taken by the Spaniard, and our ship was sunk."

"Oh, that is a terrible story. The Spaniards would not take us on board. The captain said that he had too many mouths to feed as it was."

"Wait. Many of the Spanish officers proposed that we should be sunk with the ship. It would save time, they said. Sometimes I think it would have been better if they had carried out their intention, for my poor comrades suffered torments before they died."

"Then these men held a conference. After a lot of talk they came to a decision. It was decided that the carpenter should rig out a raft in a hasty fashion, and that we were to be put aboard it. And so we were. They sent us adrift on a few timbers without a bite to eat, or one drop of water."

CHAPTER VIII.

YOUNG GLORY ON THE NASHVILLE—AT SAN JUAN DE PORTO RICO.

The officers of the Brooklyn who had drawn close to listen, were loud in their expressions of indignation.

"The brutes! the inhuman brutes!" said the skipper. "And these are the men for whom some misguided people feel pity."

"An object lesson like this," said the lieutenant-commander, "shows how much pity they deserve."

"As we left the Spaniard," continued the mate of the Mary Parker, "the wretches on board hooted and jeered at us. We heard some of them propose that they should have some rifle practice on us, but this was rejected, because it was too merciful a death. Five days we passed beneath a burning sun, suffering cruel thirst and hunger. Of twenty men who went on the raft, but nine remain."

Captain Miles was silent. The horrors to which he had listened had affected him deeply, it was some moments before he spoke.

"The Cristobal Colon! That name will stick in my memory, my friend, until I have revenged you and your shipmates. Do you think it's likely that the Spanish cruiser is in these waters now?"

"Yes, I heard enough while I was aboard of her to make me think so. Her mission is to prey on American commerce."

"It's not easy. She does her work, then dashes into the harbor of San Juan and finds safety."

The treatment of the American sailors by the Spaniards had roused the men's passions to the boiling point. The Cristobal Colon would have a bad time if the two ships came to close quarters.

For three days the Brooklyn cruised around Porto Rico. Not a sign did she see of the enemy.

"She knows we're around. It's one of their Spanish fishin' vessels has seen us, and that's enough. It's out of San Juan she'll not be comin'."

Captain Miles thought the same as Dan, but he determined to remain, because even if he could not get near enough to the Cristobal Colon to attack her, yet he was able by remaining, to prevent the Spanish cruiser from leaving the port in order to prey on American commerce.

She evidently recognized the Brooklyn, for she flew the Stars and Stripes in a very short time.

"Yes. She's a gun-boat. She's the Nashville, and I was aboard her for two years."

It was not long before the captains of the Nashville[Pg 16] and the Brooklyn were exchanging compliments. The skipper of the gun-boat came aboard the cruiser, and a long conference took place.

"Yes," answered Captain Long, of the gun-boat. "It was on her account I was ordered here. Admiral Jackson thought I might be able to help you. More than one ship has arrived in the gulf reporting a severe chase. She's doing great damage as a commerce destroyer, and the admiral says she must be checked."

"It's all very well for Admiral Jackson to talk that way," said Captain Miles, impatiently; "but just let him come here. He wouldn't be able to do any more than I'm doing."

"Of course, if she won't stir outside of San Juan it's difficult for us to act."

"What's to be done? A ship-load of wretches like that should not be at large. They're no better than wild beasts."

"But I can, Captain Miles. My boat's very light draft. Supposing I have a look in at San Juan? I may find out something."

"A good idea, but be careful. The Cristobal Colon's a fast boat, and if she caught you, well, you know where you'd be, at the bottom of the sea in a very few minutes."

"I shall be cautious. My scheme will be to try and lure the Spaniards out of port."

"I can lend you twenty, but they won't like it at all, for they're all spoiling for a fight with this Spaniard, and they want to be here when the fun begins."

"Twenty men wanted for the Nashville. We can spare them, and Captain Long is short-handed."

"Now," laughed Captain Long, "give me a fair selection, Mr. Robson. No cripple, mind."

Lieutenant Robson lost no time. He had twenty men paraded on deck. Amongst them happened to be Young Glory and Dan Daly.

"My men," said Lieutenant Robson, "the duty you are to be placed on, is not given to you because you have displeased the captain. On the contrary. But someone has to do it, and you have been chosen."

"Yes, you are lent to the Nashville. You will go aboard at once, and my last word is—but I know it's unnecessary—that you will show your new skipper what the men of the Brooklyn can do."

The men were instantly dismissed. It took them a few minutes to collect their belongings, during which they received much sympathy from their comrades.

"Don't talk about it," replied Young Glory, hotly. "It's enough to send a man crazy!"

"Do. There's no one to stop you, Dan, and it's very easy. You have only to step over the ship's sides into the mouth of the shark who's waiting there for you."

The first person they met aboard was Captain Long, whom they had not seen when he paid his visit to Captain Miles on the Brooklyn.

"Young Glory and Dan Daly!" cried Captain Long. "Well, this is a surprise. I can't complain now that they've sent me a poor lot of men."

Captain Long was a lieutenant of the Indiana, the first battle ship on which Young Glory had served during the war. He was only a young man, but he had on so many occasions displayed such conspicuous bravery, that he had been promoted to the rank of captain and placed in command of the gun-boat.

"Because wherever Captain Long is there's fighting. That's a dead sure thing, and I wouldn't be surprised but what we'll have enough of it."

The Brooklyn had faded from sight now. The Nashville was running towards San Juan. The gun-boat did not mean to enter the harbor, but simply to cruise about in the hope that something might be seen of the Spanish cruiser.

It was quite possible for a ship to leave the port without being seen, or even heard, for the waves stifled any sound she might have made.

"Well, sir, I may be mistaken, but I feel positive[Pg 17] that the Cristobal Colon went out of port during the night."

"Very little. But this is what happened. I was looking over the ship's sides during the night, and a little after midnight, when the fog was thickest, there was a great rush of water towards our boat. The waves rose high, almost to the deck. What caused that? I said to myself, and there was only one explanation."

"Certainly, sir. It was my duty. I drew the attention of the officer of the watch to this, and he said he thought it was a tidal wave."

"Young Glory, I think your theory is the correct one. It seems reasonable. That boat's waited for thick weather so as to give us the slip. I must know."

"Why, if she's not in San Juan I must notify the Brooklyn at once, so that she may look after her; we don't want any more ships destroyed."

The Nashville's course was changed, and she steered straight for the harbor of San Juan.

The men were all excited now. It was a desperate mission upon which they were bound, and they knew it. The enterprise affected men differently. Some of the sailors looked stern and determined. Dan Daly smiled the first time for a week.

The Nashville had now entered the harbor, quite regardless of the guns or the forts. Captain Long held these antiquated weapons in contempt.

"Young Glory was right," he exclaimed; "the Cristobal Colon has sailed from Porto Rico."

He ordered the ship put about, and the Nashville was once more steaming towards the ocean, when a startling sight met all eyes.

The Cristobal Colon hove in view. She was steaming into the harbor, coming towards the Nashville.

Everyone knew what it meant. There was no possibility of escape. The Spaniard barred the way to the ocean, and there was no passing her.

CHAPTER IX.

THE FIRST SHOT—A HOT FIGHT.

Single-handed he had to fight against the Spanish cruiser, for it was certain that the Brooklyn could give no assistance.

"My lads!" he said, "the odds against us are terrific. All the more reason why we should fight bravely. Let us show the Spaniards to-day what Americans can do."

"Yes, faith, it's all the fightin' I'll want. Begorra, but it's glad I am I came."

On the deck of the ship stood Young Glory, ready for the fight, with his eyes on the Spanish cruiser.

Proudly the American flag flew, and when the men saw the Stars and Stripes waving in the breeze, they realized that they had something to die for.

Captain Long was discussing the situation with his lieutenant, and the men at the guns were busily doing the same thing.

"Why, Dan, how in thunder can you ask such a question? The Spaniard, I mean, of course."

"Why, they've two ten-inch breech-loading rifles, and she has between thirty and forty quick firing guns."

"An' enough," answered Dan, obstinately. "One American equals ten Spaniards. That's my way of looking at it, so, begorra, eight guns equal eighty. Shure, an' it's all in our favor."

Having made this wonderful calculation, Dan walked away with a satisfied expression on his face.

Captain Long had been speaking to Young Glory. It was an unusual thing for an officer to take advice from a seaman, but then Young Glory was a seaman of no common order. Everybody knew that his place[Pg 18] was the quarter deck, and that time and again he had refused the promotion which had been offered him.

"No, one shot from one of their big guns will put us out of the way if it strikes."

"It can't be prevented. The Spaniards are poor gunners, that's our only chance."

The Spanish cruiser began the attack by firing one of her great guns from the barbette in the bows.

The shot went very wide of the mark, and the Yankee sailors shouted with derision.

They were all at the guns waiting the order to commence. But Captain Long was in no hurry.

"There's a heavy swell on, and it's almost impossible to train those big guns on us."

"We'll see if we can't do better. Her armor is only three inches thick, steel it's true, but what of that. One good shot may smash through a barbette, anyway."

The rapid firing guns were at work now. Occasionally the deep boom of one of the great ten-inch rifles would be heard, but these latter guns can only be fired at long intervals. It takes time to clean them, load again and fire.

He was at one of the bow guns of the Nashville, the largest she was carrying, an eight-inch breech-loader.

Young Glory had for the time superseded the officer of this gun, for it was a critical moment, and Captain Long knew that if Young Glory could not do the required work, there was no one on board who could.

"Shure ye have, Young Glory, but it's meself would rather be afther firin' at the big ship herself."

"Dan, you're a good fellow and I'm particularly fond of you, but you wouldn't make a great general. Now, see here, Dan, if I can manage to hit that turret I'll put one of their great guns out of action. That's a tremendous gain."

"It's yerself knows best," said Dan, and he added to himself, "or ye'd prove to me ye knew best anyway."

Two of his comrades at the gun had been carried below, badly wounded by some splinters from a shell.

The sight of his comrades' blood infuriated the Irishman, and it animated the other men also.

As for Young Glory, there was apparently no difference in him. He was as cool as ever.

It was his work to sight and train the gun, and each time that it was fired, anxious eyes followed the shot to see whether it would be a success.

"Bah! I'll never hit it!" cried Young Glory, in disgust, after his last unsuccessful shot. "It's the swell on the water. It's almost impossible to take aim; you can't do it with any accuracy."

As he spoke a shot had come from the enemy's ship, and it tore away one of the ship's boats, but doing no other damage. Several men had narrow escapes from the splinters of the shell. Boats are invariably a source of danger in naval fights, and it is the custom for battle ships to get rid of most of their boats before the action begins.

The last few shots from the Spanish cruiser showed that her gunners were getting the range and elevation. At any moment a shot might come and sink the gun-boat.

Several times he cast anxious eyes seaward, hoping that the noise of the fight might bring the Brooklyn to the port.

The gun-boat had suffered a serious loss in men. A number of the seamen had been struck by shots fired from the machine guns, and Captain Long knew he could ill afford such losses.

Young Glory had been almost ready to fire as Captain Long spoke to him. Now he did so.

"A knock-out blow!" shouted Dan, excitedly. "It's yourself won't come up to time."

The wind blew the thick smoke away for a few minutes, and when it was clear all eyes were fixed on the Spanish cruiser. It was seen at once that Young Glory's last shot had been successful.

The eight-inch gun of the Nashville had sent a shot right against it. Confusion reigned on the cruiser. Men were running hither and thither. They were carrying off the wounded, and others, hastily summoned from below, machinists, carpenters and the like, were busily engaged in trying to make good the damage.

"Ye may work yer hardest," said Dan, shaking[Pg 19] his fist at the enemy, "but it's that gun won't bark any more this blessed day."

"My lads," he cried, "the big do not always win in battle. First blood is ours! Work your hardest, and the last blood will be ours, too!"

Meanwhile, Young Glory was working busily at the gun again, having very little to say, but listening intently to what was going on, and feeling very much amazed at Dan's running comments on the progress of the fight.

Captain Long was on deck in the conning tower. He called his lieutenant, Mr. Tyler, over.

Captain Long gave the necessary orders, and as fast as the Spanish cruiser tried to bring its broadside guns into play, so did the Nashville maneuver so as to keep its bow head on to the Spaniard.

Meanwhile, the guns of the Nashville were busily at work, and more damage had been done to the cruiser. The din was terrific, and for the most part the two ships were enveloped in such a thick cloud of smoke, that it was quite impossible to see what they were doing.

The Nashville had little steam on, for she had been lying to during the fight. Suddenly the Cristobal Colon put on a great burst of speed, and came dashing through the water toward the gun-boat.

The excitement was terrific. The Spaniard was firing her guns as she came on, the Nashville was replying. Captain Long was working to stave off the impending disaster. Hastily the engineer got up steam. The gun-boat was well under way again.

"This dodging about can have only one end, sir," said Young Glory to the captain.

"I know none. Once those broadside guns get into play on us it will soon be over. They are bound to sink us at this distance. The worst gunners in the world could not miss."

"It's neck or nothing. Let all hands be ready, and once we're alongside of the Spaniard, we must board her and take her by storm."

The captain was thunderstruck. This audacious proposal fairly took his breath away. It was difficult for him to reply. Meanwhile, Young Glory respectfully awaited an answer.

CHAPTER X.

BOARDING THE CRUISER—THE LAST STAND.

"Then take note of this. The Cristobal Colon has a complement of five hundred officers and men. What have we?"

"Mr. Tyler, it is not a question of whether we have enough, but what are we to do. We shall be sunk for a certainty in a few minutes."

"Board the Spaniard, sir. Board her. I'm with you heart and soul. We'll die fighting."

As Young Glory said these words his eyes flashed fire, and his looks more than his words brought hope to each of his officers.

The two ships were nearing each other now, the Spaniard rapidly getting into a commanding position. Those on board of the Cristobal Colon were astounded at the action of the gun-boat. Here she was coming at the cruiser as if with the intention of ramming her.

It seemed madness. What chance would such a small craft have against the great Spanish cruiser?

"The ship will be sunk in a few minutes," said Captain Moret, who commanded the Spaniard, "and those American pigs with her."

"Whereas if we capture her, she will be a very valuable prize, in fact, just the kind of a boat we want. Those men must know they have no chance. Call on them to surrender. They are almost within earshot now. Depend upon it if you offer them good treatment they will hand over their boat, and think they've got out of the hole they're in very well."

The captain spoke English, and as there was a lull in the firing he was able to make himself heard.

"Sink the dogs!" roared Captain Moret, savagely. "Sink them, they deserve no better fate."

The last broadside of the Nashville had done some damage, but what could not be seen for the clouds of smoke that obscured the view.

The guns of the cruiser were replying now. Here the size of the Nashville was her safeguard. She lay low in the water, and being so near to the cruiser the shot of the latter passed over her decks. One of the topmasts was carried away, and two men were crushed by its fall, so the gun-boat got off lightly.

Mr. Tyler, as executive officer stood ready to lead the boarders. Young Glory and Dan Daly, burning with impatience, were near him.

Slowly, amid the smoke, the two ships drifted towards each other. Then with a crash they met. Quick as lightning ladders were thrown from the gun-boat on to the cruiser.

Captain Moret was astounded. He had never dreamed that the Americans would resort to such desperate tactics. Being completely surprised, he had made no preparations to repel boarders, and such of his men who were not at the guns were in the tops.

The result was that the blue jackets of the Nashville obtained a secure footing on the cruiser's deck.

The Spaniards had formed to repel the attack now. By the hundred they rushed on to the deck of the ship. From the tops Spanish riflemen kept up a withering fire on the enemy.

With deadly aim the American riflemen fired. One by one the Spaniards dropped dead in the tops, and those who did not, climbed down from their elevated positions to seek a less dangerous spot.

The Americans and Spaniards had met on the deck of the cruiser in a fierce contest. Nothing was heard but the clash of steel, the firing of pistols, and the shouts of the fighters.

The Spaniards were three to one, for the Americans had left a large part of their force on the gun-boat. It was quite impossible to employ all the blue jackets in the attack on the cruiser.

Young Glory was in the front of the battle, laying about him with his cutlass. Mr. Tyler, leading the sailors, was fighting by his side. Dan Daly was not far off, and Dan's quaint remarks could be heard above everybody's voice.

The Spanish officers kept somewhat in the background, urging their men to the attack, by every means in their power.

"Arrah! it's hidin' ye are!" shouted Dan. "It's here ye ought to be. It's yer foine gold lace I'd be afther seein'!"

But even this invitation did not tempt the officers of the cruiser to come to closer quarters.

One by one the men dropped. The enemy's loss was far the greater, but they were able to sustain it better than the Americans.

With a cheer, led by Young Glory, the blue jackets sprang forward and dashed at the Spaniards. The latter, appalled by the fury of the attack gave way.

But it was only for an instant. The Spanish officers struck their men with the flat of their swords, compelling them to stand their ground. More than one Spanish sailor was pistoled as an example to the others.

Like desperate men they rallied. On they came, bearing back the Americans by force of numbers.

By the time they had reached their leader he was on his feet again with his face to the foe.

"An' that spalpeen slipped, too!" laughed Dan, as he cut a Spaniard down with a furious blow from his cutlass.

Two men rushed at Dan to avenge their fallen comrade. Just at this instant, as Young Glory was going to Dan's assistance, his sword slipped from his grasp falling to the deck, some distance away.

If Dan was to be saved no time must be lost. Young Glory saw this, and not an instant did he hesitate.

He flew at the nearest Spaniard, without a weapon, and seizing the man by the neck, Young Glory hurled him furiously away. The man rolled over and over on the deck, finally landing against one of the turrets, and lying there unconscious from the force of the blow.

The Spaniards stood aghast at this exhibition of[Pg 21] strength. By this time Young Glory had obtained another cutlass, and Dan had relieved himself of his remaining foe.

The fight became general again. Mr. Tyler was acting on the defensive now. If he could only sustain the contest, he felt convinced that he could tire out the Spaniards.

His men were shooting down the enemy rapidly, and, besides, the riflemen on the Nashville were doing terrible damage.

The Spaniards called off their men. They got into shelter, and ceased to attack the Americans.

"I know what they're doing, sir. I heard the calls and caught some of the orders given, and I understand them. We shall have the hottest time of all."

"Captain Moret has rallied together all the men on the ship, every man of them, and they'll come against us like an avalanche."

Even Dan Daly was silent. For once the Irishman could not see a bit of blue sky in the prospect.

"Faith, it's there I want to lure the spalpeens; we'd have an aisy mark on the Nashville. Shure, sir," asked Dan in an injured tone, "it wasn't afraid you thought I was?"

Yes, that was the fact. Young Glory had deserted in the thick of the fight, and a blank look of despair came over every face when they saw what had happened.

"Deserted! shown the white feather!" muttered Lieutenant Tyler. "I couldn't have believed it of Young Glory."

"An' shure, if ye did, sir, ye'd be decavin' yourself," said Dan, hotly, sticking up for his chum through thick and thin.

"Begorra! P'haps the poor lad's hurt. Faith, it's a Spanish bullet he may have in him, worse luck. Fear and Young Glory can't be coupled together, me lads. It's Dan Daly tells you so, an' it's himself that knows."

The men, desperate though their situation was, were as defiant as ever. The blue jacket who proposed making terms with the enemy would have had a very hot time. But to the credit of these sailors, it may be said, that they were all heroes, and not a man amongst them knew what fear meant.

"No quarter!" cried a Spanish officer. "We have offered it once, and they replied with a broadside. Forward to the attack for your king and country!"

Roused to a pitch of frenzy by this address, the Spaniards waved their swords in the air. Then, in a close column, they thundered along the deck to where the small, but devoted band of American blue jackets awaited the attack.

CHAPTER XI.

YOUNG GLORY TO THE RESCUE—A SURPRISE FOR THE BROOKLYN.

Lieutenant Tyler glanced round involuntarily. It was like a man taking his last look at the earth.

The enemy was more than four to one, and the weight of numbers was irresistible. But the Nashville's blue jackets fought desperately, and for every American sailor that fell, four Spaniards were stretched on the deck.

Captain Moret, entirely unmoved, saw his men falling like flies. What did he care? A Spanish officer places no value on the lives of those under him, and besides, he knew that his men must win.

Captain Moret had stripped the fore part of the ship bare of men in order to concentrate them with the rest of his forces in making one final attack on the enemy.

"Young Glory to the rescue!" shouted the blue jackets, and on they came, taking the Spaniards in the rear.

Even now the men of the Cristobal Colon had nothing to fear, for they still vastly outnumbered the[Pg 22] Americans, but this sudden and unexpected attack in the rear caused a panic.

Young Glory's terrible sword aided to the fear that filled the breasts of the Spaniards. All within reach of him dropped to the deck.

The Spaniards were a huddled and confused mass of human beings now. The last vestige of discipline had gone, and the officers who yet remained, struggled in vain with their men to inspire them with courage.

"Faith, it's sorry to contradict ye, I am!" shouted Dan Daly, still in the front of the battle.

"Halloa, Dan!" cried Young Glory, looking across the intervening foe. "This is a great day!"

Dan could say no more. He could not find any expression that exactly fitted the case.

Captain Moret, in despair, rushed into the thick of the fight, endeavoring to rally his men.

"Faith, old gentleman," said Dan, "she's had so many black days it won't be noticed, an' it's black herself she is wid crime."

Captain Moret made a furious rush at the author of this insulting speech. The blades of the Irishman and the Spaniard crossed in fierce fight.

"Some day!" answered Dan, coolly, as he parried a furious blow. "Ah! my gold-laced don, you're beginnin' to see that Dan Daly's handled a sword before."

The two men were practically alone. Captain Moret had his back to the mast, and Dan, agile as a cat, despite his age, was hopping merrily round and round him.

Such of the Spaniards as had not thrown down their arms had retreated in a body towards Lieutenant Tyler's force, with Young Glory and his band of fifty blue jackets in hot pursuit.

"It's your beautiful uniform I'm afther spoilin'," said Dan, as he gave a thrust. "Arrah! but that was a great stroke, though it's meself as says it."

The stroke in question was a severe cut on Captain Moret's sword arm, which caused him instantly to pass his weapon into his left hand.

"Begorra, but it's a nuisance ye are. I'm bound to kape ye alive, an' while I'm here I'm afther losin' all the great fight that's goin' on. Ah! it's Dan Daly's the man was born under an unlucky star."

It was perfectly clear that the Spanish captain was in Dan's power. Every moment he weakened, though he continued from time to time to make frantic thrusts at the Irishman. Faintness from loss of blood was coming over him, and it was with difficulty that he kept on his feet.

"To the last of the Dalys!" replied Dan, drawing himself up proudly as the Spaniard had done. "It's a king I'd be if I had my rights."

But Dan never turned his head. He was making passes at the Spanish captain as if he meant to pin him to the mast.

"But to me, captain," said a voice that caused Dan to start. "I am the commander of the Nashville."

The Spanish captain bowed, and without a word he handed his sword to Captain Long.

"Faith!" exclaimed Dan, "I'm not understandin' it at all. Young Glory, why are you here when there's fightin' to be done?"

Young Glory pointed to the masthead of the ship. There, Dan Daly, to his astonishment saw the Stars and Stripes flying.

"It means!" cried Young Glory, "that the fight is over. The Spanish cruiser has struck her colors. Our men have surrendered. The Cristobal Colon is ours!"

The Nashville had won this great fight against odds, and it was all owing to Young Glory's daring suggestion that the Spaniard should be boarded.

Instantly it was seen that quite a flotilla was approaching. No doubt the reason they had not done so before was because they thought that the Spanish cruiser stood in no need of aid.

"The Stars and Stripes flying from this ship have brought them out," said Captain Long.

"Yes, one of the big guns of this ship is in order. See what you can do with it, Young Glory."

The sailors of the Nashville took a keen delight in handling the Spanish gun and turning it against the on-coming flotilla. Young Glory aimed very carefully.

The first shot told. The great shell from the ten-inch rifle struck the leading gun-boat of the flotilla.

The men cheered frantically as they saw that the gun-boat had heeled over to the side, and was fast going down.

The rest of the gun-boats lay to. They were afraid they might share the same fate.

"There need be none. The engineers had orders some time back to spread the fires."

Back to the Nashville went Captain Long, taking a number of his men with him. The wounded Americans had already been carried to the Nashville, where they were receiving every attention from the surgeon.

Such of the Spaniards as were injured in the fight were left on the cruiser to the care of their own medical officers.

The two boats were still lying side by side, when round the distant headland appeared the bow of a battle ship.

For a moment the men were aghast. It might mean the approach of a new and stronger enemy. Then a great cheer rose from every throat. They saw the Stars and Stripes bravely fluttering in the breeze, and knew what it meant. It was the Cruiser Brooklyn entering the harbor.

The blue jackets were wild with delight when they saw the American flag at the masthead of the Spanish cruiser.

Overlooking the harbor was a fort. Now its guns began to fire at the two ships, the cruiser and the gun-boat. Previously they had refrained, because they were afraid they might do as much damage to friend as foe.

Short-handed as he was, it was a difficult matter for Captain Long to handle his guns. But there was no necessity for his doing so. The Brooklyn took the work in hand instantly.

The first shot struck the fort. It was old. Its weapons were antique, and it had no chance whatever against the great guns of the American cruiser. Shot after shot struck it, crumbling the masonry to powder.

Already the Nashville and the Cristobal Colon were under way, steaming rapidly out of the harbor. A few distant guns from shore thundered at them, but they made a noise, and that was all. They were quite powerless to do any damage.

Once more the vessels were in the open sea clear of San Juan de Porto Rico. The Brooklyn lay to, and a boat put off. In obedience to a signal from the cruiser, the gun-boat and her prize waited till the boat came up. In the cutter was Captain Miles, the commander of the Brooklyn.

"A great and glorious victory, Captain Long," said he, stepping aboard the Nashville.

"Yes, sir, thanks to the men you lent me, and especially Young Glory. Through his advice, as I don't mind admitting, the Spaniard was taken."

"Well, I congratulate you. The country will be crazy when they hear what you've done. You will, of course, return home."

"I must do so. Such a valuable prize as the Spanish cruiser must be taken care of."

And Captain Miles went back to his ship, sending shortly after for the necessary help.

Then the ships parted company. The Brooklyn remained in the neighborhood of San Juan, looking for Spanish ships, and the gun-boat and its prize steamed away through the Caribbean Sea.

CHAPTER XII.

THE SPANISH PLOT—YOUNG GLORY'S DANGER.

The wind blew fiercely, and the gun-boat being of light draft went in towards the land, the cruiser with its deeper draft preferring to weather the storm in the open sea.

In the morning nothing could be seen of the gun-boat, but this was no reason for delay. Apparently the Spanish cruiser was well able to take care of itself, and as the destination of the ships had been determined upon, they might go there, either in company or separately, it mattered not which.

The prisoners for the most part were kept below. They numbered over four hundred, and it was not safe to allow such a number of men, even though unarmed, to wander at large through the ship.

They passed the time on deck mostly, keeping strictly to themselves, and wearing savage and sullen faces as they paced to and fro.

"Faith, it's a handsome lot they are," muttered[Pg 24] Dan. "It's myself'll be glad when we've landed you. I'd rather sail in a cattle ship."

"Shure, it's many they are to us. If we're not afther watchin' them closely, they'll try an' take the ship!"

"Fists against rifles don't count for much. We're armed and they're not. Don't forget that."

"I don't, but it's yourself knows they're as full of treachery as a sausage is of meat."

"I have no fear of them, and I'm quite sure, Mr. Tyler feels the same. Of course he's taking every precaution, but unless those four hundred men below can get out of their quarters, what harm can the officers and the few men who are at large do?"

"That's like Dan," said Young Glory, looking after him. "Prove to him he's wrong, and he won't admit it. He only gets sulky. Well, this time he's clearly out of it, and I'll make him say so when we reach Key West."

It was drawing towards evening now. Young Glory, having nothing better to do, stood and looked over the rail at the setting sun, until it had sunk below the horizon, and all was dark.

Then he threw himself down near a boat which was on the deck, and the lapping noise of the waves, coupled with the want of rest he was suffering from, sent him to sleep.

He had not the faintest idea how long he had been dozing, when he suddenly woke with a start, as men will when aroused from a deep sleep.

But he never uttered a cry, and at once he fell back intending to go to sleep again. It was against the rules to do so, but in his tired state he never thought of this.

In a minute he would have been asleep but for the fact that he heard some men talking, and out of mere curiosity he listened to what was being said.

"Some of the Spanish officers," he muttered. He knew this, for the language they were using was Spanish.

The young sailor was able to hear every word, and before the talk had proceeded far, he was taking in every word, feeling as wide awake as ever he had been in his life.

"I can't understand, Juan, how it is you are ignorant of what is going on. They know you're to be trusted."

"I should hope so," was the indignant answer. "Perhaps it is because I have kept myself away from the others. I have felt heart broken over our defeat."

"Because, Manuel, I know where our ships are. We shall meet none as we sail through the Caribbean Sea. No, no, Manuel, dismiss such thoughts. Reconcile yourself to spending the next few months as prisoners of war in America."

"A prospect I by no means fall in with. Help may be nearer than you think, Juan."

"What folly," was Juan's reply. "Have we not lost enough brave men already? I thought of that, but dismissed it from my mind at once. Unarmed men, however numerous they are, can do nothing against men armed to the teeth."

"Exactly my answer to Dan," muttered Young Glory. "This Spaniard is a sensible man."

"No, it can't. Its success is certain. Don't look so surprised, Juan. Have I a reputation for good sense or not? I'm telling you no fairy tale."

"From anybody but yourself, Manuel, if such a story came I should laugh in their faces."

"I weary you. Well, to the point as you say. You know when we handed up our swords we surrendered the ship, don't you?"

"I'm a very patient man, as you know, Manuel, but a little more of this talk and I shall be getting up and leaving you."

"I'm leading up to my story. No, Juan, we did not hand over everything. Shall I tell you what was kept back?"

So was another listener, Young Glory. He kept as still as death, not wishing to lose one syllable that was said, and waiting eagerly for the talk to proceed.

"Yes," continued Manuel, after what seemed a long silence, "we kept back the key of the forward magazine, and those fools are ignorant of it."

"Go on! Go on!" exclaimed Juan, hastily. He was as excited now as he had been indifferent before.

"You, I, if necessary. We walk about the ship as we please, so do a few of our sailors, who are kept at work. What's to prevent us from seizing the sentries posted near the magazine, and stabbing them to death?"

"I speak sensibly; what good will it do to you or me if the ship is blown up? Four hundred of our nation, you and I included, will visit the next world, taking, say, one hundred Americans with us. A heavy price to pay for such a poor result, and I'm bound to tell you, Manuel, that I've not had enough of this world yet."

"I tell you," answers Manuel, sharply, "that there will not be any blowing up. These Americans value their lives. This is the programme. Once in the magazine, of course, it will be known to the American officer commanding this ship."

"Ha! Ha! You think so? Well, this is what happens. Lieutenant Tyler, that's the fellow's name, I believe. You or I go to him, and say: 'Lieutenant Tyler, the forward magazine of this ship is in the hands of the Spaniards. What do you propose to do about it?'"

"Exactly. Then we proceed. We offer terms. 'We give you five minutes to decide, Lieutenant Tyler. Release the Spanish sailors you have made prisoners. Surrender the Cristobal Colon back to Captain Moret or you die!'"

"I knew you would say so. The Americans love life even more than we do, and placed in such a dilemma, there can't be any doubt what their choice will be."

Young Glory was fairly amazed at the boldness of the scheme, which was of an entirely different nature to anything he had suspected. He determined to hear the end of the story, for it was clear that the two Spaniards had not yet finished.

"It is. The men all know their appointed posts. The instant I give the word the sentries will be seized, and the rest will follow."

"For that I would do much. The plot will succeed, Manuel. I can see victory in the air."

"And I can't," muttered Young Glory, turning half round towards the two men. "On the contrary, gentlemen, I see nothing but failure. Go on talking till I've seen Mr. Tyler. Then I think the laugh will be all on our side. Ha, ha!"

Young Glory stared aghast. A man, a Spanish naval officer was bending over him, holding a stilletto close against his breast.

"I shall not hesitate to kill if you utter a sound," said the Spaniard, "for the happiness of four hundred men depends on your silence!"

CHAPTER XIII.

FORTUNE FAVORS YOUNG GLORY—CAPTURE OF THE MAGAZINE.

He knew that the threat of the Spaniard was not an empty one, and that he would not hesitate to plunge his dagger into the young sailor's breast in[Pg 26] case the slightest resistance was attempted, or the least sound was uttered.

The man must have been keeping watch whilst his two comrades talked, so as to secure them from interruption.

"You threaten me," said Young Glory, quietly, hoping to conciliate the Spaniard.

"Take care," answered the latter, pressing the dagger a little closer; "I warned you not to speak."

"And I do not disobey you so far as making a noise is concerned. I only ask the meaning of this."

"Perhaps. I also know that you are a prisoner on this ship, and that it is dangerous for you to kill me."

"Not so dangerous as to let you go. You have heard every word that passed between my friends, and have their secret and their lives in your hands. I need say no more to justify myself."

The Spaniard tapped lightly on the boat, and instantly Juan and Manuel rose. They walked round to the other side.

"Yes, and caramba! but it would have gone hard with your plot, but for me. You seemed to forget that you are not the only people on this ship. Look!"

"No, fortunately no harm is done. I hold this sailor in my power. He cannot escape me. You must carry out your plot instantly."

They knew there was no time to be lost, and leaving Young Glory to the care of their friend, they turned away to carry into execution their diabolical scheme.

The Spanish officer who had Young Glory in his power, did not wish to be noticed by any of the crew in a suspicious attitude. So he sat down underneath the boat by the side of Young Glory.

"Don't move," he said, showing the sailor his glittering steel blade. "It will be fatal to you if you do."

Young Glory's position was a maddening one. He was in possession of a secret, and was unable to disclose it in the proper quarter. But he never lost sight of the fact that it might yet be possible for him to get away from the Spaniard, and his brain was busily at work upon the project.

Two sailors, coming along, were thrown nearly off their feet as the vessel lurched, and in saving themselves they fell with outstretched hands against the boat.

The cutter toppled over on the Spaniard. Young Glory quicker than he in moving, had rolled to one side.

In a moment the Spaniard had recovered himself, and furiously threw himself at Young Glory. But the latter was prepared now. He caught the Spaniard by the arm, wrested the dagger from him, and then with a tremendous effort he hurled the man backwards, throwing him off the deck into the sea.

But it was too late. The cruiser was sailing at a fast pace, the sea was running high, and the night was dark. Long before a boat could have reached him he would have sunk.

He was rushing away when the two sailors barred his path, and one of them handled him somewhat roughly.

"Stand aside!" cried Young Glory, hotly, "or it will be the worse for you. I must see Mr. Tyler instantly on a matter of life and death."

"Yes, and now you know me, perhaps you will let me pass. If you have a complaint to make against me do so, and I shall know how to defend myself. You know where to find me when wanted, for I'm not likely to leave the ship."

The men let him go, and he tore along towards the cabin which Lieutenant Tyler was using.

They had hurried below, and passing rapidly around, had given the word to all their friends that the time had come to act.

Half a dozen Spaniards who had been assisting in the work of the ship collected together, so as to prevent any one getting near the magazine to render help. The officers took charge of the more dangerous end of the scheme.

It was necessary that they should do so. For they were the only prisoners who were allowed perfect freedom. The fact of their walking about would not alarm the sentries, and so strolling carelessly along in small groups, not less than six Spanish naval officers were within reach of the sentries who were guarding the magazine.

It was a faint whistle, but quite audible to ears that had waited anxiously for the sound.

Juan sprang at the nearest sentry. Manuel dashed past him and flew at the throat of the second sentry.

Juan and another officer seized the first sentry without the least difficulty. The man was taken completely by surprise, and not being able to resist, he was instantly disarmed.

Swiftly he raised his rifle to his shoulder to shoot[Pg 27] down his foes, but agile as a panther, Manuel sprang under the rifle, striking it up as he rose.

Instantly three Spaniards threw themselves on the sentry, tearing his rifle from his hands, and taking his cutlass from his side.

"Hold him fast!" shouted Manuel, as he made for the magazine. "That shot will arouse the entire ship, and there is no time to be lost!"

It was no time to waste in talking. If this desperate plot was to succeed, it must be carried out instantly. Already Manuel was at the magazine.

"They've not changed the locks, so this must fit. Ah!" he said, as he inserted the key. "I thought so. Victory! Victory! We've played a bold game and won!"

Like lightning Manuel darted into the magazine, and without allowing a second to elapse he took a carefully prepared fuse from his pocket, lit it without delay, and placed it on a shelf, which was destitute of explosives.

"Now let them come!" he said, with a look of triumph on his swarthy face. "They must agree to my terms, or we'll die together."

The sailors had rushed from all parts, and some of the American officers had also been drawn to the spot.

Instantly a dozen six-shooters were raised. A crisis had arrived. Then Juan stepped forward.

"One moment, gentlemen," said he, speaking very politely, and in soft tones. "You do not seem to understand the position of affairs."

"It is not worth arguing such a point. Let us get to business. You propose to kill us?"

"Senor, you don't understand how matters stand. We are not in your power; it is you who are in ours."

"You do not believe me yet. I speak the truth. You may fire and kill me, but directly you do, there will be an end of you, your sailors and the ship."

"Not so, senor. My comrade is even now in the forward magazine. You know what a quantity of powder and gun-cotton is stored there. Very well, if you fire one shot he will blow up the ship."

This startling assertion caused intense surprise. Some were inclined to attach importance to it, and to accept it as true, but the great majority entirely refused to believe the Spaniard's statement.

"Faith, Don Juan, or whativer ye call yourself," cried Dan Daly, "it's to the marines ye must tell that yarn."

"I give you my word," said Juan, hotly, "as an officer and a gentleman, that he will not be hurt, but he must come without arms."

"Shure, it's meself's the boy to do it!" cried Dan, handing his six-shooter and cutlass to a comrade as he spoke.

"Arrah, it's not a finger they'll lift against me! It's Young Glory would fix them for it if they did!"

Dan's faith in Young Glory was unbounded. He little knew how desperate his young friend's own position was at the moment he was speaking.

A buzz of admiration went round as the brave Irishman left his comrades, for there was no denying that it was a courageous act.

However, Dan walked boldly past the Spanish officer and the two disarmed sentries until he came to the magazine.

To find the door open astounded him, for he certainly had not believed one word that had been said.

"Faith, yes, he's in the magazine, wid a great fuse lighted, an' shure it's mighty little between us and eternity."

"Let him. At least, you have no right to do so for him. Recollect that my friend, Manuel, has you all in his power still."

"Senor, no one will harm you; you are free to pass to Lieutenant Tyler's room. I believe you know where it is."

Through the close ranks of the American seamen Juan threaded his way, smiling pleasantly at the[Pg 28] scowling faces and threatening looks he saw on all sides of him.

"I can afford to smile," he said to himself, "for I hold all the tricks in my hand!"

CHAPTER XIV.

JUAN AND LIEUT. TYLER—WHAT YOUNG GLORY DID.

He had been roused from sleep a few minutes before Juan made his appearance, and he was busily getting into such parts of his uniform as he had discarded before lying down.

"You are a bold man!" he said to Juan, "to present yourself to me on such a mission."

"I claim no credit for audacity, senor. The merit of the plot lies with my friend, Manuel."

"Yes, terms!" assured Juan, haughtily. "Every dog has his day, as I believe an English proverb says. It was yours yesterday. It is ours now. You must release the Spanish prisoners."

"And hand back the ship," Juan went on, without noticing the interruption, "to Captain Moret."

"I make the same answer as I made just now. We shall blow up the ship. If we can't obtain our cruiser again, at least we can prevent it from being of any use to you, and we will sacrifice our lives gladly for such a purpose."

The responsibility now thrown on Lieutenant Tyler was great, and he had but a short time in which to decide, for Manuel told him he was to hasten matters.

"Surrender the ship!" he muttered. "An eternal disgrace if I do, and death for all if I don't. What am I to do? This is terrible, terrible!"

"I am in your power. You have broken your words, given as officers and gentlemen——"

"And," continued the lieutenant, "by foul treachery you have gained an advantage. I cannot doom all my men to death. Senor, I must——"

"Refuse your terms!" cried a familiar voice, as the door was thrust open, and without a particle of respect Young Glory rushed in.

"My young friend, I have made a great error. I really believed that Lieutenant Tyler commanded this ship. I must ask pardon for the mistake into which I have fallen—I must indeed."

"Sir, I hope you don't suppose me guilty of any disrespect," asked Young Glory of the lieutenant.

"I must excuse myself, sir. I heard what had taken place before on my way here. I saw this man enter, and I have listened to all that has been said."

"For which your friend thought to punish me, but found out his mistake. I threw him over to the fishes," said Young Glory, coolly.

"Quiet! quiet," said Young Glory, calmly, pointing very significantly to his six-shooter, "you seem to forget that you are in great danger."

"I am in none," answered Juan, instantly. "Lieutenant Tyler, this farce must end. My comrades will be impatient for my return. You were about to give an answer when this fellow thrust himself in."

"Yes, yes," said the lieutenant, sadly. "There is no escape, Young Glory. This man—traitor as he is—has the right to exact terms from me."

"I do, and I will show you why, sir. Leave him to me. I will deal with him. Do you give me power, sir? You may trust me."

"You have no right to slay me. I came here under a safe conduct. This is infamous!"

"Senor, you will not be hurt. Now, to business. Strip that uniform off you quickly!"

"It must be, sir," he said to Lieutenant Tyler, who watched these extraordinary proceedings in silence. "Stand guard over him, sir. Compel him instantly to do what I have said, for we have no time to lose."

As the Spaniard was stripped of his naval uniform, instantly Young Glory put it on.

"You will be killed, or they will know there has been treachery, and that will ruin us!"

"They will not know me, sir. They will take me for this Spaniard. We are of the same height, and in the semi-darkness, near the magazine, I shall pass through."

"But you are sure to be discovered when you reach Manuel, this officer's friend."

"That may be, but by that time my work will be done. I shall have no fear of Manuel."

"Oh, no, you don't!" exclaimed Young Glory, as Juan was slipping out of the cabin. "Here you stay until the work is through."

"Because it will seem as if you have given way. When you hear what I say you will know the reason, and agree with me, sir."

"Traitors must be fought with their own weapons, sir," answered Young Glory, sternly, as he and Lieutenant Tyler left the cabin.

The news that Juan was returning speedily circulated. All heads were turned in his direction. Mr. Tyler was some yards behind, having kept at a distance, to better assist Young Glory in carrying out his plans.

"I don't know about bluffing," was Young Glory's answer, delivered in haughty tones. "All I know is that he accepted the terms I offered. He could do nothing else."

"Good!" muttered Young Glory. "I shall succeed now, for even Dan Daly doesn't recognize me."

"But the captain of this ship, where is he? He must hand it over to us instantly. Let the sailors give up their arms!"

"Confess," said Manuel, in triumphant tones, "that it was a great plan of mine!"

"You're getting your deserts, you wretch!" shouted Young Glory, seizing him instantly, and grappling with him.

Lieutenant Tyler heard the noise, and he had a suspicion what it meant. He rushed to the front through the men.

"Forward, lads," he shouted, waving his sword in the air, "or Young Glory will be killed, and the ship will be blown up!"

"Back! Back!" cried some of the Spanish officers, as the men were advancing. "You are sealing your own doom!"

Shots were interchanged now, and undeterred by what they had heard the sailors pressed forward.

Meanwhile, Young Glory and Manuel were engaged in a deadly struggle. Each man had been trying, without success, to draw a pistol from his belt, and as they could not do so they reeled from one side to another, locked in each other's arms.

"You cannot avert your doom!" hissed Young Glory. "Listen! the sailors are rushing to the rescue."

Quick as lightning Manuel thrust forth his hand towards the burning fuse which Young Glory had not previously noticed.

"Ha, ha!" laughed Manuel, fiendishly, as his fingers grasped it. "We all go together."

There was a great heap of powder lying in the far corner of the magazine, a striking testimony to the carelessness of the Spanish officers.

Without a moment's hesitation Manuel hurled the still lighted fuse towards this powder.

By a supreme effort he tore himself loose, and with one blow of his fist he struck Manuel to the ground.

Then past him he sprang towards the fuse, and with a great leap he landed with both feet on the fuse.

"Saved!" he cried, perceiving that the fuse had fallen a few inches from the powder.

The Spaniard was on his feet again, and was coming at Young Glory. He had a dagger in his hand, and on his face was the look of a wild animal.

"There is time to kill him, or to fire the ship yet!" muttered Manuel as he dashed forward.

The fuse was extinct, so there was no danger from that. Young Glory stood ready to spring aside when Manuel made his attack, for it was his only chance.

Young Glory saw the weapon flash in the air, and as it descended he jumped out of the way. It was only safety for a moment though, for Manuel, agile[Pg 30] as a cat, turned on him and with the speed of lightning thrust again.

Dan Daly, pistol in hand, had reached the magazine just in time to save Young Glory. He saw the Spaniard in the act of stabbing the brave young sailor, and instantly he raised his six-shooter and fired.

Manuel was struck by the bullet between the shoulders. He staggered wildly, threw up his hands, dropping his stilletto as he did so, and then sank on the floor of the magazine.

CHAPTER XV.

THE CRUISER IN DANGER—A PRICE ON YOUNG GLORY'S HEAD.

It may be imagined how heartily Lieutenant Tyler thanked the young hero, and also how grateful Young Glory was to Dan Daly for the shot that disposed of Manuel.

Henceforth, the Spanish officers were treated the same as the men. They had shown that they were not to be trusted, and for security's sake they were held as prisoners.

"It was easy work, Dan. Well, we've had a hot time of it lately. I suppose we'll run now to Key West without a hitch."

"Shure, an' I hope not. It's the beautiful ship we have now. If we're afther meetin' a Spaniard it's a great time we'll be havin'."

"You'll be disappointed, Dan. Spanish ships are tired of showing themselves in these waters."

The time passed, and though a good lookout was kept, not one of the enemy's fleet hove in sight.

The Cristobal Colon was running along the northern coast of Cuba now. Since she had parted with the gun-boat she had seen nothing of the latter. No doubt the Nashville was on its way to Key West.

The third day from Porto Rico found the cruiser lying off Mulas. The island jutted out prominently here, and the water being deep, the prize steamed along close in to shore.

"It's water we want," said Lieutenant Tyler. "There's a good landing place here, deep water, and water, too, and as the town is in the hands of the insurgents, it's too good a chance to lose. Put her right in," he cried. "We run no risk."

The seamen were delighted at the prospect. Very few of them had stepped on dry land for many weeks, and it seemed certain that they would have a few hours ashore at any rate.

"The patriots will be delighted when they find we've taken the Spanish cruiser, sir."

"Of a kind I don't like," answered the lieutenant in a sharp tone. "Salutes are all very well, but not when given in the form of a shell."

"No doubt a mistake," was the lieutenant's comment, "but very careless not to know that the gun was shotted."

There was a furious shout on the cruiser now. For another gun was fired, and this time a great shell passed over the deck, landing in the water about three hundred yards away.

"Must be. Up with our colors. Show them another American flag. Then there can't be any excuse."

A number of masked batteries opened fire on the cruiser, and shot and shell flew to the right and left of it.

"It's a trap, sir, and we've fallen into it," said Young Glory. "That town is in Spanish hands, and the Cuban flag was run up to deceive us."

"Open fire, lads!" cried Mr. Tyler. "We'll show them that two can play at that game."

Her guns were being fired furiously, but Lieutenant Tyler saw with a face of concern that the shore batteries were situated at such a height, that it was quite impossible for him to train his guns on them.

The engines were reversed. It was no good. The bottom of the cruiser was embedded in a bank of sand, and it was quite immovable.[Pg 31]

"Yes, the tide's flowing now. I estimate in two hours' time there'll be enough depth of water to float us off that bank."

"The men are not wanted here, sir. It's useless working the guns, because we can't do any damage with them, and the Spaniards won't attempt to board us."

Mr. Tyler shouted forth his orders. All was excitement now. When the men knew what decision had been come to they were delighted, for desperate though the undertaking appeared to be, it was better than staying on the ship to be sunk with it.

Lieut. Tyler, in person, led the attack, and his forces counted, all told, about one hundred and fifty men.

"Maybe," said Dan, laughing, "but, begorra! the hand isn't made that'll squeeze us."

The Spaniards, strangely enough, made no effort to oppose the landing. Probably they thought the prey so easy of capture that they wished to tackle them at close quarters. Not a shot was fired as the boats rowed towards the shore.

The boats were drawn up on the beach, and the men were so eager to get to close quarters with the enemy that they dashed at a furious pace towards the steep and rugged path that led to the batteries.

Suddenly, from a wood to the left dashed a body of Spanish soldiers, over a hundred strong, and at the same time nearly two hundred of the enemy came rushing down the hill to the right.

Round he glanced quickly, and as he did so, he saw not far away a number of great rocks, forming almost a semi-circle, with the sea in the rear.

It looked as if Young Glory was about to charge the great force that was rushing down the hill, but such was not Young Glory's intention. The Spaniards speedily discovered what his plan was. Then a mad race took place to see which party should first arrive at the group of rocks.

"We are safe, sir!" cried Young Glory breathlessly, as he and his comrades reached the haven.

"Yes, it's a natural fortress. We can hold out against five hundred men. Let them have it, lads!"

The sailors fired furiously now. The Spaniards fell at every shot. But they did not retreat. Instead of doing so the two forces joined, and together they came with a mad rush at the rocks, behind which stood the seamen, awaiting the enemy's attack.

"Don't waste a shot now!" cried Mr. Tyler, and his men waited till the enemy were quite near.

Then a terrific volley was poured forth. Not less than thirty men fell, but their comrades came on just the same. Crack! Crack!

Again the seamen fired, and then such of the Spaniards as survived bounded like deer at the rocks, trying to scale them.

It was a hand to hand fight now, in which the advantage lay almost entirely with the defenders.

Not more than ten Spaniards got inside the inclosure, and they never got out again.

Dan was fighting furiously by Young Glory's side, and the two men seemed to bear charmed lives.

"Kill that yellow-haired dog!" cried a voice in the Spanish ranks; "it's Young Glory!"

And then a dozen men, burning to be able to claim the reward, sprang at the rock behind which Young Glory stood.

CHAPTER XVI.

CONCLUSION.

"Shure, an' it's more than I'd give for ye," laughed Dan Daly. "A thousand dollars! Begorra, it's yourself won't be afther getting it."

And with these words Dan launched a terrific blow at the Spaniard nearest to him. The man dropped.

Dan turned his attention elsewhere, and Young Glory was defending himself bravely.

His comrades had heard the Spanish officer put a price upon the young hero's head, and the horrible proceeding infuriated them. They flew to his assistance, clustering around him to protect him from harm.

It was a terrible struggle. It must be said for the Spaniards that they fought bravely. They vastly outnumbered the Americans, and this may have given them courage. However, the end was near.

One after another the leading men in the Spanish ranks were shot down and killed with the cutlass. The survivors began to falter.

"Courage!" cried an officer, dashing up and waving his sword. "Courage! Stand your ground! Help is at hand!"

Those words stayed the retreat. Back to the rocks at the charge rushed the Spaniards, some of them looking anxiously around for the promised aid.

There was a wild cheer from the Spanish ranks now. Three large boats, each filled with soldiers, swept round the point.

The Americans were taken in the rear now. Between them and the sea there was no shelter.

"Lads," he said, "this place can be held no longer. We are between two fires. There is but one thing to do. We must dash out of here, cut our way through the enemy and storm the fort."[Pg 32]

The men shouted wildly. It was a bold plan, quite suited to the audacious nature of these reckless sailors.

Over the rocks, led by the lieutenant, they rushed. Their coming had not been expected by the Spaniards, and the consequence was, that they gave way in face of the sudden attack.

In all directions they turned and fled, the sailors in their eagerness dashing after them and cutting them down. The scene of the fight was a ghastly sight now. All around lay the dead and dying, and every minute added fresh victims to the list.

But now the men were recalled from the pursuit of the flying enemy to resume the main purpose for which they had landed. This was to attack and capture the fort and silence the guns.

Up the steep ascent they toiled, protected from harm by the trees which covered the slope. As they drew nearer the batteries, they saw that an almost impossible task was before them.

The walls of the fort were steep and high. The sailors had no scaling ladder with them. How, then, could they hope to make a successful attack?

"Then you're wasting your time in the navy if that's so, Dan," laughed Young Glory. "A man who can clear fifteen feet ought to go in for athletics."

Furiously they rushed forward, leaving the shelter of the trees to assail the fort.

The Spaniards had them at their mercy now. They fired from the rampart at the helpless men below.

It needed no more talking to show this. Already in this brief attack the men had sustained a heavier loss than in all the fighting of the day.

There was a look of dismay on everyone's face as they glanced round and saw that he was missing.

And breaking away from those who tried to hold him, Dan fairly flew till he came to the spot beneath the fort where his comrades had just fallen.

"Not there!" he cried. "It's a prisoner he is! An' shure, how could they take him prisoner? It's not one of them Spaniards has ventured out. An', begorra, he wouldn't be afther takin' himself prisoner!"

Dismissing this last idea as unreasonable, Dan, who had miraculously escaped the enemy's bullets, ran back to his comrades.

In the attack that had been made on the fort the boy had been at the extreme right—that is, the point of view nearest the sea. Whilst his comrades were aimlessly throwing themselves against the walls of the fort, Young Glory was otherwise engaged.

He had seen a figure emerge from the fort and glide amongst the trees at some distance away. Quick as lightning Young Glory did the same. He stole along towards the spot where the Spaniard had secreted himself, and there was a look on the boy's face that spoke volumes.

"It is he!" he muttered. "I only saw him for an instant, but it's a face I never forgot."

Quick as lightning, before Jose could fire again, Young Glory had sprung on him.

"Give me the key!" he cried, holding the spy in an iron grasp. "Give me the key, or I will kill you!"

"The key of the door by which you have just left the fort. I saw you do so. You cannot deceive me."

With these words Jose tore himself loose, and then an instant later, he flew at Young Glory, knife in hand. But his foot caught in some vegetation, and he fell forward.

Young Glory seized the frantic Spaniard as he struggled to reach the key. For a moment or so, they swayed about on the bluff. Then Young Glory, exerting all his strength, tossed the spy backwards, releasing his hold so as to save himself from going with him.

Jose Castro went crashing down the bluff towards the sea and the jagged rocks which lay below.

He did not press forward to inquire further into Jose's fate, but flying through the wood at full speed, he burst in on his astonished comrades.

The men were astounded to see him walk up to the door in the rampart, insert the key in the lock, and open it. Madly they rushed through into the fort.

The Spaniards were standing at the guns when this sudden attack took place, thinking that the enemy was in front. They had no time to rally.

Young Glory leading, the American sailors pressed forward, cutting down all in their path. A few of the Spaniards resisted for a few minutes. Then they threw down their arms in token of surrender.

A number of them saved themselves by jumping off the rampart and flying through the woods.

"The guns must be destroyed," shouted Mr. Tyler. "My lads, those breech-loaders can be easily rendered unfit for use. To the work!"

Rapidly the destruction went on. When it was finished the American tars poured down the hill again, took to their boats, and departed without opposition.

When they reached the cruiser they found that the tide had flowed so fast that the ship was no longer aground.

In a few minutes the vessel left the shores of Cuba behind, and was steaming with all speed for Key West.

The gun-boat having already arrived at the last named place, the story of the gallant fight at San Juan de Porto Rico was already public property. A great reception was given to the Cristobal Colon as she steamed into port.

Young Glory was fairly worshiped, for he was justly regarded as the hero of the battle.

[THE END.]

[Transcriber's Note: The following typographical errors in the original edition have been corrected.

In Chapter I, "to whom he addresed" has been replaced with "to whom he addressed"; and "talking together exciteedly" has been replaced with "talking together excitedly".

In Chapter III, "He's the only Captan Miles" has been replaced with "He's the only Captain Miles".

In Chapter IV, "severl years in the west" has been replaced with "several years in the west".

In Chapter V, "as the minutes past" has been replaced with "as the minutes passed".

In Chapter IX, "fast as the Spanish crusier" has been replaced with "fast as the Spanish cruiser"; and "damage had been done to the crusier" has been replaced with "damage had been done to the cruiser".

In Chapter X, a missing quotation mark has been added after "treated as prisoners of war".

In Chapter XII, "keeping trictly to themselves" has been replaced with "keeping strictly to themselves"; an extra quotation mark has been deleted after "what you can to repair it"; a missing quotation mark has been added after "those fools are ignorant of it".

In Chapter XIII, "loud cry of derison" has been replaced with "loud cry of derision".

In Chapter XIV, a missing quotation mark has been added after "you say no, Young Glory?"

In Chapter XV, a missing quotation has been added after "on its way to Key West"; "crusier lying off Mulas" has been replaced with "cruiser lying off Mulas"; and "flag that's flying'!" has been replaced with "flag that's flying!".

Also, the table of contents has been created for this electronic edition. It was not present in the original work.]

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