, sir, if you will take that chair I shall be quite
comfortable here on the bed."

The consul drew his chair up close to Harry and sat down. Bert also
seated himself on the bed. Beginning with the wreck of their sail boat,
Harry then told Mr. Wyman in sequence the events that had led up to
their present incarceration in a Spanish jail in Cuba.

"Now, sir," he said, as he concluded, "you can understand why we cannot
tell anything that will in any way bring harm to Captain Dynamite."

"Yes, yes," said the consul, who had been deeply interested in the boy's
story. "A marvelous man, and there are many more like him in the service
of Cuba. I believe they will win. I--I hope they will win."

Mr. Wyman lowered his voice and looked around the room as if to see
whether there was anyone to overhear him. Harry looked at him in
surprise.

"I thought you were a Spanish sympathizer, Mr. Wyman," he said.

"Diplomacy, my boy, only diplomacy."

"I am very glad to hear you say so, sir; you may fall in with my plan
quicker."

"What plan?" asked the consul, suspiciously.

"I will tell you presently, but I have not finished my story yet. You
see that wall?" Harry pointed to the wall between their cell and the one
occupied by Miss Juanita. The consul nodded. "Behind that wall is a
young woman--a Cuban sympathizer--who is awaiting torture, perhaps
death, at the hands of her captors, because she will not betray the
cause. And that young woman is Miss Juanita, the sweetheart of Captain
Dynamite."

"How do you know this, boys?" asked Mr. Wyman, springing to his feet in
excitement.

"Do you see that big slab in the wall?"

"Yes."

"That closes a secret passage between this room and hers. Last night we
accidentally touched the spring that rolls back the stone, and we talked
to her. If you can depend upon our not being disturbed, I will open it
now and you can see for yourself."

"I will answer for the man with the key. He now and then gets a little
present from me. I find it convenient to be in touch with all hands.
Diplomacy, my boy, diplomacy."

Harry stepped to the wall and pressed the diamond-shaped stone. The
groaning and creaking of the rusty mechanism of the revolving stone
began and in five minutes the passage was open. Harry peered through and
started back with a cry.

The young woman lay face downward on the stone floor of her cell.

"Miss Juanita," called Harry, softly. "What is the matter? Get up. It is
your frie