t, or I fire," again came the command.

"Don't you think we better go back, Hal?" whispered Mason, who had
crouched down in the bow out of the way of a stray bullet. "I don't care
much for this real gun business. It's too exciting for my constitution."

"Don't you understand," persisted Harry, "that we are friends of Captain
Dynamite and the cause?"

"Friends of the cause will give the countersign," said the voice in the
same even tone.

"Washington, you ought to know the countersign," whispered Harry to the
negro, who had listened to the conversation with open mouth. He shook
his head as if he did not comprehend.

"You know--the word that tells people that you are a friend of Cuba."

"O, dats de password--suah." Washington grinned with joy.

"Well, the password then; what is it?"

"Ah guess it is 'Independencia.'"

"I hope you have guessed right this time."

"Not such a mucher," murmured Washington, deprecatingly.

"Independencia," repeated Harry, loud enough for the man on shore to
hear.

"Advance friends," said the sentinel, quickly lowering his gun.

The party landed without further opposition and found instead of one
man, whose form they had been able to distinguish from the boat, ten or
a dozen more a few feet back from the shore, squatting around a small
fire, the light of which was masked by a thick growth of underbrush.
They were all dark-skinned men with heavy growths of black beard. They
looked up without displaying any particular interest as the boys
landed, but the sentinel who had challenged them came forward and held
out his hand in greeting. He was undoubtedly an American.

"Glad to see any one who speaks English," he said, as Harry approached
and took his offered hand. "What are you boys doing here?"

"That's a long story," replied Harry, smiling. "Briefly, though, Captain
Dynamite ran down our sail boat while we were sailing off Martha's
Vineyard, picked us out of the water and brought us along whether we
would or no."

"And where are you going now?"

"To join Captain Dynamite. He may need our assistance."

The man smiled.

"I am afraid you will be more likely to need his if you persist in your
purpose," he said.

"That, of course, is a matter of opinion," replied Harry, drawing
himself up indignantly. "And to return the compliment may I ask what you
are doing in Cuba?"

"Certainly," laughed the man. "I came with Morgan. We are soldiers of
fortune."

"Then you are not a pat