it would be hard to imagine a vessel in a much greater predicament than the uncas was at that moment. everything was in confusion in an instant.

that is everything except one thing. lieutenant raymond was too busy to notice the coolness of one person on board; but he remembered it afterward, and with satisfaction.

it was clif faraday; he picked himself up from the deck where he had been flung and took one glance about him. then he turned to the guns.

whatever the position of the tug his duty just then remained the same. he could not free her, and so he did not waste any time rushing about. there was that spanish merchantman calmly walking off to safety.

and there was a gleam of vengeance in the cadet's eye as he went to the gun again.

those on board of the fleeing vessel had seen the success of their clever plan and they gave a wild cheer. it was answered from the shore batteries.

the steamer turned at once and headed out to sea; that put her broadside to the uncas, and instantly the six-pounder blazed away.

that was the time to do the work, too. the vessel was quite near, and a fair mark. the uncas was now steady, too, clif thought grimly to himself.

one of the sailors saw what he was doing, and sprang to aid him. they banged away as fast as they could load.

at the same time the spanish batteries opened. they had a fair mark, likewise, and plenty of time to aim. it was a race to see who could smash up their prey the quickest.

clif would certainly have disabled the fleeing vessel if it had not been for an unfortunate accident. what the accident was may be told in a few words. it spoiled his chance.

he turned away to get more cartridges. and at that instant a shell struck the six-pounder gun.

it was a miracle that clif was not hit; his uniform was torn in three places and his cap knocked off. the sailor next to him got a nasty wound in the arm, made by a flying fragment.

and that of course made the merchantman safe—she steamed off in triumph.

it was bad for the tug, too, for it showed the batteries were getting the range.

the plight of the uncas was a desperate one. she was being tossed about by a raging sea and cut up by the fire from the guns. whether she had struck on rocks or sand or mud no one had any means of telling.

but her engines were reversed the instant the accident occurred. and a hasty examination of the hold showed that whatever the danger was there was no leak.

but that seemed cold comfort, for at the rate the heavy batteries were blazing away there was likely to be a number of leaks in a very short while. and even a steel tug will not hold together long with a sea pounding over her like this one was.

yet as it actually happened, that sea was the only thing that got the vessel out of her unfortunate predicament.

they were a great deal luckier than they would have dared to hope to be. for when they realized they were aground there was not a man on board who did not think his last hour was at hand.

but as it actually happened, the sand bar upon which the tug had driven lay some distance beneath the surface. and it had caught the vessel by the keel.

the engines throbbed wildly, doing their noblest to pull the vessel off; and then one after another came the great waves, tossing her this way and that, wrenching and twisting, lifting and lifting again, while every one on deck clung for his life.

there was a minute or two of agonizing suspense, while the shore batteries kept up a galling fire and the merchantman steamed out to sea, proud of her triumph.

and then suddenly came a wild cheer from the imperiled americans. then men fairly shrieked in a transport of delight.

"she's moving! she's started! she's safe!"

and the men fairly hugged each other for joy. slowly, then faster, then faster still, and finally at full speed backward. the gallant tug had torn herself loose from the grip of the sand—and was free!

the baffled spanish batteries redoubled their fire at that. one could almost imagine the gunners grinding their teeth with rage as they saw their prey escaping.

but grinding their teeth did not seem to sharpen their eyes. their aim was as bad as ever, and the uncas seemed like the proverbial man in the rainstorm who keeps dry by "dodging the drops."

the confusion on board of the "escaped" vessel may be imagined. how that triumphant captain must have sworn spanish oaths.

it was a ticklish task that lieutenant raymond had before him then. he knew there were sand bars about. but he did not know where they were. and the task was to avoid them.

he did it by creeping along very slowly, in absolute indifference to the galling fire from the shore guns. he knew that there must be a channel, for he and the spaniard had come in by it.

he had only a vague idea where it was. but the uncas stopped and then crept slowly forward, heading north.

and after five minutes of torment they knew that they were safe. they were far enough from shore to start up again and get away from those spanish guns. the gallant tug was quite battered by that time, but nobody cared for that in the wild rejoicing that prevailed.

the vessel swung around to port.

"and now for that prize!" muttered the lieutenant.

and he went for her, too, full speed ahead. he was mad now.

the vessel had gotten a start of about two miles. she had apparently exhausted her resources in the neighborhood of cuba, for she was heading north, out to sea again.

"and so it's only a question of time," chuckled clif. "we've got her!"

and so they had. the spaniards must have realized it, too.

"mr. faraday," said the lieutenant, "try a shot from the starboard gun."

the shot was fired; and it did the work.

the merchantman had evidently had enough, and saw that there was no further hope.

for in full view of the shore batteries she swung round and came slowly to a halt, a signal that she surrendered. it made the americans give another cheer, and it must have made the spaniards on shore fairly yell.

for they began banging away, even at that distance, though they couldn't come anywhere near the tug.

as for the americans, they sighed with relief. they had worked hard for that victory. and they felt that they had earned it. the race was over then, and they were happy.

clif was so wearied by his heroic labor at that gun (he must have lifted and rammed some two hundred six-pounder cartridges) that he sat down on the wreck of the machine to wait until the two vessels drew near.

and the lieutenant gave up the wheel to one of the men and came out to look his capture over at leisure.

she was a fairly large vessel and seemed to have a big carrying capacity. what she was loaded with no one could guess, but at any rate she was a big prize for a small crew like that of the uncas.

"i think i'll retire from business after to-day," clif heard the old boatswain remark.

that personage had had one arm badly damaged in the struggle that had taken place in the morning with the spanish gunboat; but he seemed to have forgotten his wounds in the general excitement.

the little tug steamed up boldly toward her big prize, which lay idly tossing on the waves. one could see her officers and crew standing on deck watching the approach.

"i'll bet they feel happy!" clif muttered to himself.

the lieutenant loaned him the glass. then he could see the faces of the men.

there was one of them he might have recognized had he been careful; but he did not recognize it, and so he failed to save himself some mighty unpleasant adventures indeed.

they were all typical spanish faces, dark and sullen; but there was one there even darker and more sullen than the rest.

and the owner of that countenance had a glass in his hand and was staring at those on the tug. though the cadet did not know it, that man was at that instant watching him.

and there was an expression of furious hate on his face as he looked.

lieutenant raymond expected no further trouble; but he took no chances. men were stationed at the three remaining six-pounders, and the rest of the crew was armed.

in silence the uncas steamed up to within a hundred yards of her prize. and then came the signal to stop engines.

it was the time for a boarding party. clif, as junior officer, knew that that was his duty, and without a word he proceeded to get the small boat off.

it was quite a task in that heavy sea, but the eager sailors worked with a will, and though nearly swamped twice, managed to get clear of the tug.

and clif was seated in the stern, heading for the big merchantman.

"keep your eyes open," he heard the lieutenant shout. "they may make trouble."

and clif nodded and the boat shot away. they wouldn't catch him napping on board that spanish vessel—not much!

but they come perilously near it all the same.

it was a rough trip in that tossing rowboat. it seemed to sink and then fairly bound up on the next wave, its bow went down and its stern shot up. it did everything except turn over, while the spray fairly flew over it.

but the sturdy sailors worked with a will, and the distance was not very great. in a short time the little craft shot round in the lee of the spaniard.

"a ladder there!" shouted clif.

and in a few moments the rope ladder came tumbling down. it seemed to come with bad grace though, as if it knew its owners didn't want to send it.

the rowboat was backed near and clif, with a sudden spring, caught the ladder and leaped clear of the waves.

before he went up he turned to the sailors.

"two of you follow me," he commanded.

he climbed quickly up the ladder and stepped out on the deck, gazing about him eagerly.

he saw about a dozen dark-faced spaniards gathered together and glaring at him; one of them, wearing the uniform of the captain, stepped forward toward him.

he was a surly, ill-looking man, with a heavy dark mustache. he bowed stiffly to the cadet.

"the senor takes possession," he said, in a low voice.

clif was so busy watching this man that he did not look around the vessel. but we must do so.

we must glance for one instant at the capstan, which was just behind where the jaunty young cadet was standing. there was an interesting person near the capstan.

clif did not see him; and neither did the sailors, nor even the spaniards on the vessel. for he was crouching behind the capstan, out of sight.

he was a small man, dark and swarthy. he was the same one we noticed glaring at clif; he had recognized him, and realized in a flash that the issue between them was death—death for one or else death for the other.

for clif knew the man, and would secure him the instant he saw him; his crimes were many—treason and attempted assassination the worst.

for the man was ignacio!

and his dark, beady eyes were glittering with hatred as he crouched in his momentary hiding-place. he was quivering all over with rage; the muscles of his sinewy arms were clinched and tense.

and in his right hand he clutched a sharp, gleaming knife, half hidden under his coat.

his glance was fixed on the figure just in front of him; the unsuspecting cadet was not twenty yards away, his back turned to his crouching enemy.

and ignacio bent forward to listen and wait his chance.

the cadet, the object of his hatred, was talking to the captain.

"the senor takes possession," the latter repeated again.

"the senor does, with your permission," said clif, quietly.

"you gave us quite a run," he added, after a moment's thought.

"a spaniard would not surrender to yankee pigs without a fight," snarled the other.

"you had best be a bit careful," was clif's stern response, "or you may find yourself in irons."

the spaniard relapsed into a sullen silence.

"what ship is this?" demanded the cadet.

"the maria."

"from where?"

"cadiz."

"indeed! and bound where?"

"bahia honda."

clif gave a low whistle.

"we caught you about in time," he said, with a smile. "you were nearly there. but i suppose the story is made up for the occasion. what is your cargo?"

the captain went over quite a list of articles; the sailors who were with clif chuckled with delight as they heard him.

"we get a share in all this," clif heard one of them whisper under his breath.

clif smiled; and as soon as the captain finished he raised his arm and pointed to the stern of the vessel.

"you and your men will go aft," he commanded, "for the present; i will see you shortly."

the spaniard was on the point of obeying; he had half turned, when suddenly with a single bound the treacherous ignacio sprang forward.

his keen knife glanced in the air as he raised it in his outstretched arm and leaped upon the unsuspecting cadet.

ignacio was clever at that sort of thing. he had tried it before; his spring had been silent as a cat's. neither the sailors nor the officer heard him. and the blow might have fallen; clif's only warning of his deadly peril.

but unfortunately for the desperate assassin, he had failed to let the captain of that vessel know what he meant to do. and the captain, as he saw him leap, realized in a flash that would mean an instant hanging for him.

and a look of horror swept over his face; clif saw it and whirled about.

he was just in time to find himself face to face with his deadliest enemy; and the knife was hissing through the air.