xico, east of the historic port of
Vera Cruz, the United States dreadnought, "_Long Island_," moved
along at slow cruising speed.

The few days out from New York had brought marked changes in climate.
While people in New York found the weather still cold, here in
Mexican waters, officers and men alike were in the white uniforms
of the tropics---all save those whose work below compelled them
to wear dungarees.

On the bridge forward, two officers paced at a time. During the
night hours there were always three there.

Aft, on the quarter-deck, marines were going through the rifle
gymnastic drill. In some of the divisions officers and men were
busy at the big gun drills. Others were cleaning a ship that
always seemed spotless. The few that were off duty gathered wherever
they could find room, for a battleship at sea, with her full complement
of officers and men on board, is a crowded affair.

No other ship of the American fleet was in sight, but two operators,
constantly on duty in the wireless room, kept the "_Long Island_"
in constant touch with a score of vessels of the United States Navy.

"Have you any idea what we're doing here?" asked Danny Grin, as
he and Dave met on the superstructure.

"No idea whatever," Ensign Darrin admitted. "I have noticed,
though, that the officers on the bridge keep a constant lookout
ashore. See; two of them, even now, have their binoculars trained
on the shore."

"I don't see anything over there," replied Dalzell, "except a
house or a small village here and there. I looked through the
binoculars a little while ago, and to me it appeared a country
that was about nine-tenths swamp."

"In the event of sending landing parties ashore," Dave hinted,
"we might have to fight in one of those swamps. When it comes
to fighting in the tangles and mazes of a swamp, I fancy the Mexicans
have had a whole lot more experience than we have had."

"Why should we have to send landing parties so far from Vera Cruz?"
Dan demanded, opening his eyes.

"We're only forty or fifty miles east of Vera Cruz," Darrin went
on. "Danny boy, Vera Cruz is supposed to have a garrison, at
present, of only about eight hundred of General Huerta's Mexican
Federals. But suppose it was rumored that the Americans intended
to land at Vera Cruz. Isn't it likely that the garrison would
be greatly increased?"

"Let 'em increase their old garrison," smiled Dalzell, contemptuously.
"The first landing parties f