en voices.

"Last night--"

"Yes."

"Last night a volunteer crew--"

"Hurry up, will you?"

"Last night, or rather early this morning, a volunteer crew, under the
command of a naval constructor named Hobson, took the collier 'Merrimac'
into the mouth of the harbor and--"

"That old tub?" interrupted a marine who had served in the regular navy,
incredulously. "Why, she's nothing but a hulk. She hasn't a gun or--"

"She didn't go in to fight," said "Hay." "They were to block up the
channel with her."

"To block up the channel?"

"Yes. Cervera and his fleet are in the harbor, you know, and the scheme
was to keep them from coming out."

"Did they succeed?" chorused the whole group of eager listeners.

"Yes, but----"

The conclusion of "Hay's" sentence was drowned in a wild whoop of joy, a
whoop that brought a number of other "Yankees" to the spot, and also a
gesture of remonstrance from the executive officer on the bridge.

"Wait, boys," I said, gently; "you haven't heard all."

There was quiet at once.

"Hobson and his brave men succeeded in accomplishing their object, but
they have paid the penalty for it."

"Not dead?" asked one in almost a whisper.

"So the captain read the signals. The 'Merrimac' went in about three
o'clock this morning. It seems she reached the channel all right, but
she was discovered and sent to the bottom with all on board."

"Hay" took off his cap reverently, and the others instantly followed his
example. Nothing more was said. The glory of the deed was overshadowed
by the supposed fate of the gallant volunteer crew.

The "Yankee" steamed in to a position designated by the flagship, and
the captain went aboard to pay his respects to Admiral Sampson. A
Spanish tug, flying a flag of truce, which had emerged from the harbor
at noon, met one of our tugs, also flying a flag of truce, and almost
immediately a string of signals went up to the signal yard of the "New
York."

Then came such a burst of cheers and whistling and tossing of hats from
every ship in the fleet that it seemed as if every officer and sailor in
Sampson's squadron had suddenly gone daft. Like wildfire, the glorious
news spread--

Hobson and his men were safe!

The tug from the harbor had brought an officer sent by Admiral Cervera
himself with a message stating that the brave naval constructor and all
his crew had been captured alive and were now prisoners in Morro Castle.
Later, a press boat came alongsi