ought at any time.

And he felt that if it took place while he was absent he would never
cease to regret it as long as he lived. The Uncas could not do much in
such a battle; but she was anxious to do her share.

It was possible, also, that Morro might succeed in provoking an attack.
The guns of the Havana defenses kept blazing away at anything that came
near, and the American sailors were fairly boiling over with impatience
to get a whack at them.

And at any time Admiral Sampson might give the word.

So Clif was restless and impatient as he stood in the bow of the swift
tug and gazed southward.

It was a rather damp place of observation the cadet had chosen, for it
had been blowing quite a gale that day, and the Uncas was plowing her
way through a heavy sea.

The spray was flying over the decks; but who would have thought of going
below at such a time as that?

It was not Clif's turn on duty. Lieutenant Raymond seemed to think that
after his struggle on board the Spanish monitor the young cadet deserved
a rest. But he was too eager and wide awake just then to wish to take
it.

When the tug was well under way the lieutenant came out of the pilot
house and joined Clif again.

"Thinking of the weather, Mr. Faraday?" inquired Lieutenant Raymond.

"No, sir," replied the cadet, "I was thinking of Ignacio. I don't know
how he happened to get into my thoughts, but he did."

"Who is Ignacio?"

"He's a Spaniard I've had some trouble with," answered Clif. "You may
have heard about one of his exploits."

"Which one is that?"

"He made an attempt to assassinate Rear Admiral Sampson."

"Oh, yes, I heard about that," said the officer. "The admiral told me
about it himself. I believe you were the person who interfered."

"I had the good luck to be standing near," said Clif, modestly. "And of
course, I sprang between them."

"And the spy stabbed you?"

"Yes. In the shoulder, but he did not hurt me very much."

"He must be a desperate man."

"He is. That stabbing business seems to be a favorite trick of his. I
hope I shan't have to face him again."

Whether Ignacio was a Spaniard or a traitor Cuban, no one could say.
Clif had first met him trying to lead astray an American officer who had
been sent with dispatches for Gomez.

And Clif had foiled the plot, and had been Ignacio's deadly enemy ever
since. Clif had been keeping a careful watch for him. He knew that the
vindictive fellow would follow his every m