steel-iridium conical projectiles every minute, with a point-blank
range of two miles, and an initial velocity of 3000 feet per second. Her
secondary battery consisted of six 4-inch revolving guns, discharging
seventy shells a minute when operated by electricity. The cruiser had
the new compound quintuple engines, capable of driving her twenty-six
knots an hour under forced draught. On the whole, she was regarded as a
fairly efficient vessel, though some of the leading British critics
declared that she belonged to a type that was fast becoming obsolete.

She was moving gently and steadily through the water. The sun was
shining brightly, and his gleaming rays made sparkling light along the
cruiser's polished brass-work and on the brown chases of her long
slender guns. Captain Dudley Fawkes was pacing the after-bridge in
conversation with his Executive Officer, Commander Bilton-Brooks, and
Lieutenant Sir Edward Avon was the officer of the watch on the main
bridge.

"I don't believe," said Captain Fawkes, "that the United States means
seriously to take a hand in this light."

"I don't know about that," responded Commander Bilton-Brooks. "Congress
has taken action, and the President has called out troops."

"True enough," rejoined the Captain, "but that does not necessarily mean
anything. You know the navy must be the aggressive force, and we have
yet to see an American ship afloat in these waters."

"That is quite true," said the Executive Officer; "yet, for the life of
me, I can't help feeling that there is mischief of some sort in the
air."

The Executive Officer's words were more nearly correct than even he
suspected, for at that very instant the two lookouts in the foretop were
puzzling their eyes and brains to make out a strange object which had
appeared on the lee beam. While they were watching it, it dropped from
the air, where it had seemed to be floating, and rested on the bosom of
the sea, where it presently resolved itself into a cutter-yacht some
sixty feet in length.

"It were a bloomin' mirage, Bill," said one lookout to the other, as he
lifted his voice and bawled, "Sail, ho!"

"Where away?" came the quick demand from the bridge.

"On our lee beam, sir," answered the man. "Looks like a cutter-yacht,
sir."

Now in the year 1927 a cutter-yacht was something of a curiosity, for
electricity had supplanted sail-power for small craft, and vessels
propelled by canvas were rare indeed. The cutter-yacht