A Prisoner of Morro; Or, In the Hands of the Enemy. Upton Sinclair
Raymond. "You may repeat the performance to-night if you have a chance. We aren't likely to meet with anything till we get there."
As the lieutenant said that he turned and gazed ahead; the broad sea stretched out on every side of them, without a sign of smoke or sail to vary the monotony of its tossing waves.
"But it always lends zest to a trip like this," the officer added, "to know that it's possible you may run across a stray Spaniard at any moment. It pays to keep one's eyes open."
"And then you have the pleasure of chasing two or three and finding they're some other nation's ships," said Clif, with a laugh.
"That's about all we've done so far," said the lieutenant. "But we're still hoping perhaps you'll bring us good luck."
"I'll do my best," the cadet declared with a smile.
"Better get ready for it by resting a bit. Your dinner's ready below."
Clif took the hint and went below. The boat was pitching so violently that he found eating a very difficult operation, and it was generally so unpleasant in the little cabin that he was glad to go on deck again.
And then later in the afternoon, at four o'clock, it came time for him to go on duty. After that he had to remain outside whether he wanted to or not.
The gale grew considerably stronger, and as the darkness came on it got much chillier, but Clif still paced up and down the deck with the glass in his hand watching for a sign of a passing vessel, or of the approaching Cuban coast.
He was left almost alone on deck as the weather got rougher; for the crew made themselves comfortable below, knowing what hard work lay before them through the stormy night.
It was not the custom on the vessel to keep the whole watch on duty except at night; and Clif had only the two sailors at the wheel and the lookout in the bow for company.
But if he felt any jealousy of those who were below out of the cold, he had the grim satisfaction of being able to disturb their comfort before very long.
It was about half past four in the afternoon, and suddenly the lookout turned and called to Clif.
The eager cadet knew what it meant. He seized the glass and hurried forward.
He followed the direction of the man's finger.
"I think I see smoke, sir," was what the sailor said.
And Clif took a long look and then turned, his face betraying his excitement.
An instant later his voice rang through the ship.
"Steamer ahoy—off the starboard bow!"
CHAPTER II.
A LONG CHASE.
There was excitement on board of the Uncas the instant Clif's cry was heard. The sailors came tumbling up on deck, Lieutenant Raymond among the first.
He took the glass eagerly from the lad's hand and anxiously studied the sky in the direction indicated.
"It's too far west to be near Havana!" he exclaimed.
And he stepped into the pilot house to direct the vessel in a new direction. At the same time the smoke began to pour from the funnel, showing that those down in the engine-room had heard Clif's hail.
And so in a few moments the Uncas was speeding away in the direction of the stranger. And after that there was a long weary wait while the two vessels gradually drew nearer.
All that could be made out then was the long line of smoke which always indicates a distant steamer. But it took a sharp eye to make even that out.
"This will be a long chase," said the lieutenant. "If she takes it into her head to run we'll have a hard time to catch up to her before dark."
Clif glanced significantly at the bow gun.
"If we can only get within range," he thought to himself, "we won't have to wait to catch up to her."
The lieutenant was standing by the pilot house with the glass in his hand, and every once in a while he would make an attempt to catch sight of the stranger's smokestack.
"It may be one of our own warships," he said, "and if it is we don't want to waste any coal chasing her."
But such was not the case, and it was only half an hour or so before the lieutenant found it out. The Uncas rose as a high wave swept by; and the officer, who had the glass to his eye, gave an eager exclamation.
"She's got one funnel," he exclaimed, "and it's black, with a red top; and so it's not an American warship."
And after that there was nothing now to be done except wait until the two approached nearer.
It was evident from the gradual change of course the Uncas was obliged to make that the vessel she was following was headed in a southerly direction.
"That would take her toward the western end of Cuba," Clif thought to himself. "Perhaps she's sighted us and is running away."
She must have been a very shy vessel to have taken alarm at so great a distance; but from the slowness with which she came into view that seemed to be the case. And Clif paced the deck impatiently.
It was not very much longer before he went off duty again; but he did not go below. For perhaps an hour he remained on deck watching the strange vessel.
It seemed an age, but Clif had his reward. The chase loomed gradually nearer. The black and red smoke pipe came into view, and then, when the Uncas rose, the top of the black hull as well.
And suddenly the lieutenant handed the glass to Clif.
"You may see now," he said. "She is a merchant steamer, and she flies the Spanish flag."
Clif nearly dropped the glass at those startling words. The lieutenant said them as calmly as if he were telling the time of day.
"You don't seem very much excited," the cadet thought.
And yet the lieutenant's statement proved to be true. It was several minutes before Clif got a favorable view; but he kept his eyes fixed on the smoke and he finally caught a glimpse of the hull.
And sure enough there was the hated red and yellow ensign waving defiantly from the stern; it was blown off to one side by the breeze, and could be plainly seen.
Clif was fairly boiling over with excitement at that discovery.
"We've got our prize!" he chuckled. "I brought the luck after all."
Lieutenant Raymond was not nearly so little moved as he chose to pretend; he had announced his discovery in that careless way half in a spirit of fun.
The news got round among the crew, and however the officer may have felt, there was no indifference there.
The engines of the Uncas began to work even more rapidly, and cartridges were hastily brought up for the rapid-firing guns. Nobody meant to let that steamer get away.
She must have suspected her danger by that time, for the smoke grew blacker. But the crew of the Uncas knew that there were few merchant ships could beat that tug, and they rubbed their hands gleefully.
There is something very aggravating about a race like that. In a rowing race you may break your back if you choose, trying to catch the boat in front; and even in a sailing race you may do something. But when it comes to steam you can only grit your teeth and walk up and down and watch and try not to let anybody see how anxious you are.
In that way half