steam winch, "Stump" was pulling the baskets over
the hatch coaming as they were hauled up by the winch, and the other
five were carrying.

"Say, this is deadly slow, tiresome work," said "Flagg," who was
carrying with me. "I'd give almost anything for a little excitement."

The last word had scarcely been uttered when there came the sounds of
'commotion on deck. A voice cried out in sharp command, the rudder
chains creaked loudly, the ship heeled over to starboard, and then we
who were at the open port saw a long, snaky object shoot out from the
edge of the haze and bear down upon us.

"My heaven!" shouted "Stump," "it's a torpedo boat!"

The commotion on deck had given us some warning, but the sudden dash of
the long, snaky torpedo boat from out the haze came as a decided shock.
For one brief moment we of the after port stood as if turned to stone,
then every man ran to his quarters and stood ready to do his duty. With
a cry, our second captain sprang to the firing lanyard. Before he could
grasp it, however, the officer of the division was at his side.

"Stop!" he exclaimed authoritatively.

The interruption was fortunate, for, just then, a swerve of the oncoming
torpedo boat revealed a small flag flying from the taffrail staff. It
was the American ensign.

The reaction was great. Forgetting discipline, we crowded about the port
and laughed and cheered like a lot of schoolboys. Potter, in his joy and
evident relief, sent his canvas cap sailing through the air. A rebuke,
not very stern, however, came from the lieutenant in charge of the
division, and we shuffled back to our stations.

"Cricky! what a sell," exclaimed the second rifleman, grinning. "I was
sure we had a big job on our hands this time. I'm rather glad it is one
of our fellows after all."

"I'm not," spoke up young Potter, blusteringly. "What did we come out
here for, hey? I say it's a confounded shame. We might have had a chance
to send one of the Spaniards to the bottom."

"It may be a Dago after all," suggested "Bill," glancing from the port.
"The flag doesn't mean anything. They might be flying Old Glory as a
_ruse de guerre_. By George! That craft looks just like the 'Pluton.'"

We, who were watching, saw Potter's face lengthen. He peered nervously
at the rapidly approaching torpedo boat, and then tried to laugh
unconcernedly.

"You can't 'string' me," he retorted. "That's one of your Uncle Samuel's
boats all right. See! they are going