eery word to the lookouts
and once to prop up Ignacio, who was being rolled unceremoniously about
the deck.
The cunning Spaniard looked so bedraggled and miserable that Clif would
have felt sorry for him if he had not known what a villain he was.
"He'd stab me again if he got a chance," he mused.
For Clif had saved that fellow's life once; but it had not made the
least difference in his vindictive hatred.
"I'm afraid," Clif muttered, "that Ignacio will have to suffer this
time."
The Spaniard must have heard him, for he muttered an oath under his
breath.
"It would be wiser if it was a prayer," said the cadet. "Ignacio, you
are near the end of your rope, and you may as well prepare for your
fate."
The man fairly trembled all over with rage as he glared at his enemy;
such rage as his was Clif was not used to, and he watched the man with a
feeling of horror.
"I don't like Spaniards!" was the abrupt exclamation, with which he
turned away.
And Ignacio gritted his teeth and simply glared at him, following back
and forth his every move, as a cat might.
"I may have a chance yet," he hissed, under his breath. "Carramba, if I
only had him by the throat!"
But Clif paid no more attention to the Spaniard. He had other things to
attend to, things to keep him busy.
It was not very long before that was especially true. For some
interesting events began to happen then.
They began so suddenly that there is almost no way to introduce them.
The first signs of the storm was when it broke.
In the blackness of the night nothing could be seen, and the vessel was
struggling along absolutely without suspicion. And Clif, as we have
said, was walking up and down engrossed in his own thoughts, almost
forgetting that he was out in the open sea where a Spanish warship might
chance to be lurking.
And so it was literally and actually a thunderbolt from a clear sky.
The blackness of the waters was suddenly broken by a sharp flash of
light, perhaps two hundred yards off to starboard.
And an instant later came the loud report of a gun.
The consternation of the Americans it would be hard to imagine. They
were simply aghast, and Clif stood fairly rooted to the deck.
His mind was in a tumult, but he strove to think what that startling
interruption could mean.
"They must have fired at us!" he gasped.
And if there was any doubt of that an instant later came a second flash.
To a merchantship in war time such a
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