he signal, and a dazzling
stream of light played upon the scene.

It brought in clear relief the form of the waiting steamer, and the two
boats racing so desperately near at hand.

What a thrilling scene it must have been to the officers on the bridge
of the flagship as with glass in hand they watched the exciting race.
But it was not given to them long to note the cadet's desperate struggle
for freedom, or to marvel at his great endurance.

The race was a short one, and the result a foregone conclusion. There
was no hope of Clif's escaping from the pursuing boat, with its crew of
fresh and eager oarsmen. The latter closed in upon him with a leap and a
bound, and soon were within oar's length of him.

He recognized the uselessness of trying to escape from them, but was
determined not to surrender without a struggle even in the face of great
numbers.

He dropped his oars and sprang to his feet, facing his enemies. He drew
his revolver, but before he could use it one of the Spanish sailors, who
had risen in the boat, knocked it from his grasp with his oar.

The boats were now side by side, almost touching, and the dark hulk of
the steamer was not many feet away.

From the latter arose aloud cheer as they saw that Clif had been
disarmed, and above the noise Clif could hear a few words of command
from the Spanish army officer who sat in the stern of the boat at his
side. It was to the sailor who had sprung up to attack Clif.

"Don't shoot!" he said. "Take him alive!"

Clif had seized an oar when his revolver fell with a splash into the
water, and there was no doubt that he intended using it.

But two can play at that game, and the Spanish sailor, forbidden to
shoot, attacked Clif furiously with the oar, which he still held in his
hand.

Clif dodged, but as he did so another sailor aimed a blow at his head.
The aim was good.

A sharp pain shot through the young cadet's head, he reeled and all
became dark before him. With a faint moan he fell senseless into the
bottom of his boat.

The contest had been short, and well it was for the Spaniards that such
was the case. Already the flickering of the searchlight told that the
flagship was hurrying to the scene.

The Spaniards realized the importance of quick action. They had, on the
impulse of the moment, retaliated upon Clif because it could take but a
few minutes and because they felt that the chase would end not far from
their waiting vessel.

They congratul