"Don't you think you
better give them one more for good measure, sir?"

"Enough's a-plenty, Suarez. We'll have her hull down before eight bells.
Would you like to see what a little gun like that can do?"

He turned to Harry as he spoke and handed him the marine glasses. They
were a powerful pair and as Harry regulated them to his vision he seemed
to be almost on board the Spanish gunboat. All was confusion on her
decks. The "both" referred to by the captain as being out of commission,
were the port and starboard guns, with which she had been potting at the
_Mariella_. Captain Dynamite's shots had each scored a bull's-eye.

In the turmoil, Harry could see that someone had been injured and was
being borne away by his companions. He lowered the glasses and held them
out to the captain.

"You have laid up a man for repairs, I think, sir," he said.

The captain waved the glasses back with something like a shudder.

"I am sorry," he said, quietly. "The poor chap was only doing his duty.
I aimed at metal and not human bodies. I hope he is not much hurt."

He turned to the rail again, touched the spring, and the gun slowly sank
out of sight, the section of the deck that concealed it slipping into
place again with a click. Putting on his coat he entered the cabin,
leaving the boys in possession of the glasses. For some time they were
greatly interested in watching, turn by turn, the proceedings on the
deck of the gunboat, but finally the _Mariella_ made such good use of
her heels that even with the glasses, they could make out nothing but
the outlines of the Spaniard.

When they turned again to the deck of their own steamer, they were
surprised to see that it had once more resumed its usual appearance. The
armed men had disappeared, the second mate paced the bridge, and only
the lookouts occupied the decks. It was now twelve o'clock, and eight
bells sounded clearly on the still, tropical air. The boys recollected
for the first time that they had had no breakfast, just as Captain
Dynamite stuck his head out of the cabin door.

"Come on, lads," he called, cheerily; "sure we've let the Spanish
terrier cheat our stomachs."

The exciting events of the morning had not impaired the boys' appetites,
and they promptly responded to the call. When they went on deck again
only a speck on the horizon marked the pursuing gunboat.

"Few of their old tubs can measure paces with the old _Mariella_," said
the captain, with satisfactio