A Prisoner of Morro; Or, In the Hands of the Enemy. Upton Sinclair

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A Prisoner of Morro; Or, In the Hands of the Enemy - Upton  Sinclair

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except wait until the two approached nearer.

      It was evident from the gradual change of course the Uncas was obliged to make that the vessel she was following was headed in a southerly direction.

      "That would take her toward the western end of Cuba," Clif thought to himself. "Perhaps she's sighted us and is running away."

      She must have been a very shy vessel to have taken alarm at so great a distance; but from the slowness with which she came into view that seemed to be the case. And Clif paced the deck impatiently.

      It was not very much longer before he went off duty again; but he did not go below. For perhaps an hour he remained on deck watching the strange vessel.

      It seemed an age, but Clif had his reward. The chase loomed gradually nearer. The black and red smoke pipe came into view, and then, when the Uncas rose, the top of the black hull as well.

      And suddenly the lieutenant handed the glass to Clif.

      "You may see now," he said. "She is a merchant steamer, and she flies the Spanish flag."

      Clif nearly dropped the glass at those startling words. The lieutenant said them as calmly as if he were telling the time of day.

      "You don't seem very much excited," the cadet thought.

      And yet the lieutenant's statement proved to be true. It was several minutes before Clif got a favorable view; but he kept his eyes fixed on the smoke and he finally caught a glimpse of the hull.

      And sure enough there was the hated red and yellow ensign waving defiantly from the stern; it was blown off to one side by the breeze, and could be plainly seen.

      Clif was fairly boiling over with excitement at that discovery.

      "We've got our prize!" he chuckled. "I brought the luck after all."

      Lieutenant Raymond was not nearly so little moved as he chose to pretend; he had announced his discovery in that careless way half in a spirit of fun.

      The news got round among the crew, and however the officer may have felt, there was no indifference there.

      The engines of the Uncas began to work even more rapidly, and cartridges were hastily brought up for the rapid-firing guns. Nobody meant to let that steamer get away.

      She must have suspected her danger by that time, for the smoke grew blacker. But the crew of the Uncas knew that there were few merchant ships could beat that tug, and they rubbed their hands gleefully.

      There is something very aggravating about a race like that. In a rowing race you may break your back if you choose, trying to catch the boat in front; and even in a sailing race you may do something. But when it comes to steam you can only grit your teeth and walk up and down and watch and try not to let anybody see how anxious you are.

      In that way half an hour passed away, and mile after mile of the storm-tossed waters.

      By that time the hull of the vessel was plainly visible on the horizon; and the Spanish flag was still waving from her stern.

      Clif had been gazing every once in a while at the lieutenant with an inquiring look upon his face, but the officer had only shaken his head.

      "Not yet," he said. "Wait a little."

      And Clif would then take another stroll across the deck.

      But at last his inquiring look brought another answer.

      "Go ahead," said the lieutenant.

      And the cadet made a leap at the gun.

      It was already loaded, and he sighted it himself. He was no longer nervous and hurried; it was at least a minute before he rose.

      And then at his signal the sailor pulled the firing trigger.

      There was a flash and a loud report, and every one looked anxiously to see the effect.

      Lieutenant Raymond, who had the glass, was the only one who could tell; for the sea was so wild that the slight splash could not be noticed.

      The shot of course fell short, for the vessel was still out of range; but it hit right in line, and the officer nodded approvingly.

      "Now we'll wait," he said. "She may give up."

      But she didn't; so far as those on the Uncas could tell the shot had no effect whatever. The vessel kept straight on in her course.

      "She's counting on the darkness coming," said the lieutenant.

      But that was not the only reason why the Spaniard did not give up; those upon the Uncas discovered another shortly afterward.

      "The Cuban coast," exclaimed the officer.

      Yes, the long, faint line of the shore was at last visible just on the horizon's edge. It lay to the southward, directly ahead.

      "What good will that do her?" asked Clif.

      "If she finds she can't get away," answered the other, "she may make a run for one of the ports or try to get under the shelter of the batteries."

      For a while after that nothing more was said, and the tug plowed its way through the tossing water. When the lieutenant spoke again it was to point to the gun.

      "Try it again," he said.

      And Clif did try it. The two ships were then not over three or four miles apart, and when the cadet fired again he heard the lieutenant give a pleased exclamation.

      "They're within range!"

      And then Clif got to work with all his might.

      Had he had a calm sea he could have raked that vessel without missing a shot. He had only to experiment and get the aim just right and then leave the gun to stay in that one position while he blazed away.

      But the Uncas in climbing over the waves was now up and now down, so that sometimes the shots fell short and sometimes they went high.

      But every once in a while he had the satisfaction of hearing that he had landed one.

      After that the chase was a lively one, for the Uncas kept blazing away merrily. The people on board that fleeing vessel must have had a very large time of it that afternoon.

      It was just what Clif Faraday liked; he was beginning to be quite an expert in target practice, and he was willing to experiment with that ship just as long as the ammunition held out.

      But his opportunity did not last very long, for the land in front was neared very rapidly, and after that there was less fun and more work.

      The stranger headed round gradually to the west. She evidently had no idea of being driven toward Havana.

      The Uncas swerved more sharply, in order to head her off. Lieutenant Raymond was in the pilot house, and Clif soon saw by the way he managed things that he was an expert in all the tricks of dodging.

      And

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