the same thing.

"It's a fine ship," said one of the men.

"Which?"

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

"An' it's a quare name it has."

"Cristobal Colon! Oh! that's named after Columbus."

"Ah! it's himself would be the sad man if he could see his own people
now."

"Never mind about that, Dan, this is a fine ship, and don't you forget
it."

Dan shrugged his shoulders scornfully, and put a plug of tobacco in his
mouth.

"Arrah! it's the little boat for me."

"But think of their guns."

"What of them?"

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

"An' faith, we have eight."

"That's so."

"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 was the
quarter deck, and that time and again he had refused the promotion which
had been offered him.

"There can be only one result," said Captain Long.

"True, sir."

"And the fight won't last long."

"You think not, sir?"

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

"Then it mustn't strike."

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

Boom!

"Hulloa, she's opened fire!"

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.

Boom!

Another gun from the Spaniard.

"You see, sir, they can't hit us," said Young Glory.

"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."

Then the fight really began.

Boom! Boom!

The rapid firing guns were at work now. Occasionally the deep boom of
one of the great ten-