r. He could see nothing on account of the
darkness, but he heard the pattering of feet. One man, if not more, was
hurrying towards the end of the pier.
Then Young Glory heard some shouting, but the roar of the sea prevented
him from distinguishing the words.
The shouting continued.
"Traitor!"
This word came distinctly across the water.
"They've caught a spy," exclaimed Young Glory, quickly, to turn the
men's thoughts away from himself. "Hurry up, lads, and you may get back
in time to see the fun, for he'll have to die, that's sure."
Not another word reached the boat. Yet, Young Glory felt by no means
safe. He knew that a boat might be sent off to overtake him, and then he
was lost entirely.
But as the minutes passed, and he heard no sound of pursuing oars, he
became easier in his mind.
To get out of possible danger from shore, he ordered the men to row out
towards the sea, but here he was beaten. The waves ran high and the
boats were in great danger of being swamped. Back to the shore again he
had to go, and adhere to the original plan of creeping along by the
beach.
The coast was rocky hereabout.
Suddenly above their heads a figure, which looked unnaturally tall in
the darkness, rose on a great bowlder which overshadowed the water.
"You have a traitor in that boat!" cried this apparition. "The man with
you is not Captain Calderon. It is Young Glory!"
CHAPTER VI.
FIGHTING IN THE BOATS--DAN DALY ARRIVES.
These words produced a panic.
It was a wonder that the boats were not overturned. The men stopped
rowing, and so the craft containing the ammunition drifted up against
them, and they were all in a mass together.
The actions of many of the men were most violent and threatening. They
uttered fierce cries, and assailed Young Glory with menaces.
"To your work," he cried, bravely, thinking yet that he might overawe
them.
But they took no notice.
"I am your captain," said Young Glory. "Obey my orders!"
"You are a traitor!"
"Seize him! Kill him!"
These were the cries that were now heard. But a clear voice came from
the shore. It was that of the man who had denounced Young Glory.
"Do not kill him," he said. "Traitors must be treated differently. Make
a prisoner of him."
"Who are you who give your orders?" asked one of the men. "You seem to
own us!"
"Own or not," was the stern answer, "it will be bad for those who refuse
to obey me. I am Jose Castro!"
There wa
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