“You have a sick man on board,” Captain Garcia began in a tone of authority; “we want to take him back with us immediately. Do you understand?” The sailing master gave the naval men a look of inquiry and amazement. “We have a man who is very ill; he was brought on board by Señor Mareno just before we sailed,” he answered. “This is irregular,” he added, more boldly. “You are on the high seas,” Captain Garcia retorted savagely. “I alone am responsible for my actions. Take me to this man.” The merchantman was not in his employer’s secret, but he readily saw that these officers were defeating his intentions. Fear of Mareno made him hesitate. But he knew he was at their mercy; a glance at the formidable cruiser close by assured him of that. “Come with me,” he said gruffly, leading them to a stateroom on the lower deck. There O’Neil saw a sight that wrung his heart. Craig’s emaciated form lay on the bed; his feverish eyes wide with a terrible fear as he recognized the boatswain’s mate, in spite of his foreign uniform. The petty officer walked over to his bedside and looked down at him compassionately. He put his hand almost affectionately on his hot brow. “You must come back with us, Craig,” he said determinedly; “you’ll not be harmed. Don’t kick; we’ve just time to get back to clear Mr. Perry.” The sick man cringed and turned white with terror. A fearful shaking took hold of his thin form. “I dare not,” he pleaded in a terrified whisper. “They’ll send me to a penitentiary for my crimes.” “Don’t take on so,” exclaimed O’Neil in exasperation, as he saw the precious minutes slipping away. “A hospital is where they’ll send you.” He beckoned to Captain Garcia and together they lifted the almost exhausted man from his bed; he struggled feebly, but soon realized he was only wasting his strength. They carried him down into the boat and aboard the “Aquadores,” which was soon heading at top speed back for La Boca. O’Neil did his utmost to cheer the dejected machinist, who lay tossing miserably, brooding over his imaginary troubles. “You just tell the truth, Craig,” O’Neil counseled, “and you’ll not be harmed. Mr. Lazar will not be in it if you tell your tale to the court.” O’Neil saw with sinking hopes that it was eight o’clock; the court had met and the “Aquadores” was nearly half an hour away. If she were too late in bringing this important witness, none but the President of the United States could grant a reprieve to the condemned midshipman. “But do your best, Captain Garcia,” he urged. “If luck is with us we may save him yet.” CHAPTER XXI CONCLUSION The loud knock on the door resounded through the tense stillness of the courtroom. The door was thrown open violently and the stalwart figure of O’Neil, with Craig trembling beside him, stood on the threshold. Sydney sprang to his feet and placed himself beside the boatswain’s mate.