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.