A Prisoner of Morro Part 45

Satisfied that he had nothing to fear from his enemy, now lying helpless in the bottom of the Boat, Clif seized the oars and turned the boat toward sh.o.r.e.

It was trying work for one man to row that boat even the short distance that lay between him and sh.o.r.e--especially after the ordeal through which he had pa.s.sed. But excitement buoyed him up and he made good progress.

His companions in the shade of the bushes where he had left them had witnessed his exciting duel and were wrought up to tense excitement. How they bemoaned the fact that they were not there to help him!

It became evident that there were other spectators, too; for no sooner had Clif seized the oars and began to row for the sh.o.r.e than a volley of bullets rattled out across the water from the hill that had witnessed such thrilling scenes earlier in the night. The Spanish soldiers had discovered Clif!

In the face of this, Clif redoubled his efforts to reach the beach and rescue his companions, who might any moment be attacked by the soldiers in their rear.

But the enemy's attention was concentrated upon Clif and his boat, and he shot through the waters in a perfect hail of missiles. They spattered into the waters all around him, but wide of their mark.

He reached the sh.o.r.e, and as he sprang upon the ground his faithful little band could not repress a cheer at his bravery and pluck.

But he urged them on. Not a moment could now be lost. The enemy, shut off temporarily by the overhanging hill, might be down upon them any second.

Clif gathered up his clothing and at a word they all sprang to their places and the boat leaped through the water with a bound, and was away.

"To the flagship!" Clif cried, and then uttered an exclamation of alarm.

"The dispatches!" he cried, as he felt among his clothes. "They have been left behind!"

At a word the boat was turned round and shot swiftly toward the beach.

Yelling Spaniards could be heard racing down the hillside. They had discovered the landing-place, and bullets began again to rain about the water.

It seemed sure death to return in the face of that fire, but the intrepid crew sped on. The dispatches must not fall into Spanish hands!

The boat grated on the sands, and Clif sprang out. One instant brought him to the spot where his clothes had lain. Fortune favored him. As he felt along the ground, his hand touched a package of papers.

"The dispatches!" he cried, as he sprang to his place in the stern of the boat, which had been turned ready for the start. He gave the word and away they sped, this time with the flagship as the goal. Spanish bullets flew after them, but they were safe. It was only when they were for a moment brought out into bold relief by the searchlight that again began to play from the flagship that the bullets of the enemy came near their mark.

And then the firing ceased and the boat sped on. An enthusiastic and jubilant crew it was. Only Clif seemed in a dissatisfied mood.

"Gorry!" he suddenly exclaimed, "I came off without that sh.e.l.l after all!"

"You seem to lay great store by that, sir," said one of the men.

"I do," said Clif. "But will not return for it just now. To the flagship!"

Not many minutes later they were safe aboard, the captured Spaniard in proper custody, and, best of all, the dispatches were personally delivered by Clif to the rear admiral.

But still Clif was not entirely satisfied.

CHAPTER XXIX.

CLIF'S SECOND EXPEDITION.

In spite of the glorious work accomplished in those few hours Clif felt chagrined that he had, in the excitement of the struggle on the boat and under fire of the Spanish soldiers on sh.o.r.e, been forced to return to the flagship without the sh.e.l.l.

He had thought considerably about it even during the stirring scenes through which they had pa.s.sed. He had his own ideas about it and wanted to put them to the test.

Everything connected with it indicated to his mind some mystery, the solution of which would materially help the American forces.

In the first place, the way in which it was brought to his attention was unusual, to say the least. That a ship being pursued by a hostile craft should deliberately fire away from the pursuer and toward the land was peculiar, even for a Spaniard.

It was ridiculous to think that the sh.e.l.l had been aimed at Clif and his party, for even had it been broad daylight the American boat's crew would not have been visible to those on the Spanish ship. It was merely a coincidence that Clif happened to be where the sh.e.l.l landed.

"No," thought Clif as he revolved this in his mind, "that shot was not aimed at our forces. There was some other reason for firing it."

What that was he could merely conjecture, and he was not entirely clear in his own mind. That the mysterious purpose had been carried out to the satisfaction of those on the Spanish boat, Clif felt convinced, was evident from the fact that not another shot was fired.

Then the shape of the sh.e.l.l was an important factor.

"They are not using those round ones nowadays," thought Clif. "This one must be used for a special purpose. What that is, I'm going to find out."

The arrival of the Spanish soldiers and their peculiar actions before the little battle that followed also demanded explanation.

"They didn't know we were there," mused Clif, "or they would not have been so easily taken by surprise. Why were they there? Their capture of the Cuban courier was accidental, I'm sure. They were on some other mission."

Last of all, the theft of the ship's boat and the strange behavior of the two Spaniards who had taken it and whom Clif had been forced to overcome added a peculiar feature to the affair.

Taking it all in all, Clif felt that though they had bravely avenged the murder of the Cuban, and had brought the dispatches safely to the rear admiral, and with them a prisoner, still an important object had not been accomplished.

He meant to return for that unexploded sh.e.l.l in the face of every difficulty and put his ideas to the test. He had this purpose in view when he delivered with his own hands the dispatches to the rear admiral.

Rear Admiral Sampson glanced quickly over the papers after they were handed to him, and seemed highly pleased.

"These are of the utmost importance," he exclaimed. "With this information we will be the better able to act in conjunction with the insurgents when the proper time comes."

Clif knew the papers must indeed be of especial value from the rear admiral's manner, for it was decidedly unusual for an officer of such importance to unbend to that extent with an ordinary cadet. The rear admiral was evidently more than satisfied with the result of Clif's mission.

After a hasty examination of the papers, he turned to Clif, who had remained standing, and asked some particulars of his meeting with the Cuban courier.

Then Clif briefly but graphically told of his receiving the papers from the hands of the insurgent and of the latter's tragic death so soon after at the hands of the cowardly Spanish soldier who held him as a prisoner of war.

Rear Admiral Sampson's blood fairly boiled as Clif gave him the details.

"The cowards!" he exclaimed, with clinched fist. "It was barbarous!"

"But, sir," continued Clif. "It has been avenged."

And then he briefly and with modest demeanor told of their attack upon the company of Spanish soldiers, and their victory over them without the loss of an American life. More than one Spaniard had gone to his death to atone for that cowardly a.s.sa.s.sination.

The rear admiral was plainly interested, and at his request Clif gave the particulars of his subsequent adventures and of the narrow escape in the boat from the Spanish soldiers firing upon them from the hill and sh.o.r.e.