"Oh, give a fellow a chance, will you?" cried Bill. "You want the whole floor. What do you think--" "Sh-h-h! here comes the executive officer," hastily whispered "Stump." "We've made too much racket. Let's go into the after wheel-house." "We must be quiet about it," spoke up the "Kid," warningly. "'Cutlets' is chasing around to-night, and if he catches us in there he'll raise Cain." "All right," replied Bill. "And I'll finish that story if I have to stay up all night." "Same here," retorted Tom, with evident determination. "Come on." And we all followed the twain. CHAPTER X. WE BOMBARD SANTIAGO DE CUBA. The after wheel-house on board the "Yankee" was a round structure of steel built on the spar deck directly over the counter. It contained a steering wheel to be used in case the wheel in the pilot-house should be disabled. When the chill winds of May and early June were blowing off the northern coast during the "Yankee's" period of cruising in that vicinity, the after wheel-house formed a snug and comfortable retreat for the men of the watch. It was freely used for that purpose until the navigator chanced to discover the fact. He forthwith issued orders forbidding any person to enter the house, except on duty. His order, like many others, received respectful consideration--when he happened to be looking. In the present case we were so eager to hear the conclusion of the stories being related by the rival yarn-spinners, that we were fain to brave "Cutlets'" displeasure. Led by Bill and Tom, we piled inside. "What I was trying to say," spoke up the former, getting the first opening, "was that when Patrick reached the top of the stairs, something struck him full in the chest, and two hairy arms were thrown about his neck. The sudden shock sent him tumbling backward, and he fell kerflop! down the steps. Up above, his wife was howling to beat the band, 'Mike, Mike, ye spalpane! You do be killing your poor father. Och! why did I live to see this day?' In the meantime the real Mike--for the one inside was the escaped monk from the menagerie--had scooted for the police. They came, a half dozen of them, and as they entered the front door--" "Time!" chuckled "Stump." "Give Tom a chance." "As I opened the front door of the little wooden house where we had placed the body," said Tom, prompt to take advantage of the opportunity, "I saw two gleaming eyes glaring at me from the inner room. I tell you, my heart fell clean down into my boots." "Should think it would," muttered the "Kid," peering about the wheel-house with a shiver. "Ugh!" "I dropped the lantern," resumed Tom, "and staggered back. Just then a----"