A Prisoner of Morro Part 4

But that seemed cold comfort, for at the rate the heavy batteries were blazing away there was likely to be a number of leaks in a very short while. And even a steel tug will not hold together long with a sea pounding over her like this one was.

Yet as it actually happened, that sea was the only thing that got the vessel out of her unfortunate predicament.

They were a great deal luckier than they would have dared to hope to be.

For when they realized they were aground there was not a man on board who did not think his last hour was at hand.

But as it actually happened, the sand bar upon which the tug had driven lay some distance beneath the surface. And it had caught the vessel by the keel.

The engines throbbed wildly, doing their n.o.blest to pull the vessel off; and then one after another came the great waves, tossing her this way and that, wrenching and twisting, lifting and lifting again, while every one on deck clung for his life.

There was a minute or two of agonizing suspense, while the sh.o.r.e batteries kept up a galling fire and the merchantman steamed out to sea, proud of her triumph.

And then suddenly came a wild cheer from the imperiled Americans. Then men fairly shrieked in a transport of delight.

"She's moving! She's started! She's safe!"

And the men fairly hugged each other for joy. Slowly, then faster, then faster still, and finally at full speed backward. The gallant tug had torn herself loose from the grip of the sand--and was free!

The baffled Spanish batteries redoubled their fire at that. One could almost imagine the gunners grinding their teeth with rage as they saw their prey escaping.

But grinding their teeth did not seem to sharpen their eyes. Their aim was as bad as ever, and the Uncas seemed like the proverbial man in the rainstorm who keeps dry by "dodging the drops."

The confusion on board of the "escaped" vessel may be imagined. How that triumphant captain must have sworn Spanish oaths.

It was a ticklish task that Lieutenant Raymond had before him then. He knew there were sand bars about. But he did not know where they were.

And the task was to avoid them.

He did it by creeping along very slowly, in absolute indifference to the galling fire from the sh.o.r.e guns. He knew that there must be a channel, for he and the Spaniard had come in by it.

He had only a vague idea where it was. But the Uncas stopped and then crept slowly forward, heading north.

And after five minutes of torment they knew that they were safe. They were far enough from sh.o.r.e to start up again and get away from those Spanish guns. The gallant tug was quite battered by that time, but n.o.body cared for that in the wild rejoicing that prevailed.

The vessel swung around to port.

"And now for that prize!" muttered the lieutenant.

And he went for her, too, full speed ahead. He was mad now.

The vessel had gotten a start of about two miles. She had apparently exhausted her resources in the neighborhood of Cuba, for she was heading north, out to sea again.

"And so it's only a question of time," chuckled Clif. "We've got her!"

And so they had. The Spaniards must have realized it, too.

"Mr. Faraday," said the lieutenant, "try a shot from the starboard gun."

The shot was fired; and it did the work.

The merchantman had evidently had enough, and saw that there was no further hope.

For in full view of the sh.o.r.e batteries she swung round and came slowly to a halt, a signal that she surrendered. It made the Americans give another cheer, and it must have made the Spaniards on sh.o.r.e fairly yell.

For they began banging away, even at that distance, though they couldn't come anywhere near the tug.

As for the Americans, they sighed with relief. They had worked hard for that victory. And they felt that they had earned it. The race was over then, and they were happy.

Clif was so wearied by his heroic labor at that gun (he must have lifted and rammed some two hundred six-pounder cartridges) that he sat down on the wreck of the machine to wait until the two vessels drew near.

And the lieutenant gave up the wheel to one of the men and came out to look his capture over at leisure.

She was a fairly large vessel and seemed to have a big carrying capacity. What she was loaded with no one could guess, but at any rate she was a big prize for a small crew like that of the Uncas.

"I think I'll retire from business after to-day," Clif heard the old boatswain remark.

That personage had had one arm badly damaged in the struggle that had taken place in the morning with the Spanish gunboat; but he seemed to have forgotten his wounds in the general excitement.

The little tug steamed up boldly toward her big prize, which lay idly tossing on the waves. One could see her officers and crew standing on deck watching the approach.

"I'll bet they feel happy!" Clif muttered to himself.

The lieutenant loaned him the gla.s.s. Then he could see the faces of the men.

There was one of them he might have recognized had he been careful; but he did not recognize it, and so he failed to save himself some mighty unpleasant adventures indeed.

They were all typical Spanish faces, dark and sullen; but there was one there even darker and more sullen than the rest.

And the owner of that countenance had a gla.s.s in his hand and was staring at those on the tug. Though the cadet did not know it, that man was at that instant watching him.

And there was an expression of furious hate on his face as he looked.

Lieutenant Raymond expected no further trouble; but he took no chances.

Men were stationed at the three remaining six-pounders, and the rest of the crew was armed.

In silence the Uncas steamed up to within a hundred yards of her prize.

And then came the signal to stop engines.

It was the time for a boarding party. Clif, as junior officer, knew that that was his duty, and without a word he proceeded to get the small boat off.

It was quite a task in that heavy sea, but the eager sailors worked with a will, and though nearly swamped twice, managed to get clear of the tug.

And Clif was seated in the stern, heading for the big merchantman.

"Keep your eyes open," he heard the lieutenant shout. "They may make trouble."

And Clif nodded and the boat shot away. They wouldn't catch him napping on board that Spanish vessel--not much!

But they come perilously near it all the same.