“Excellent,” agreed Sydney. “I am quite confident that Juarez will use a steamer; the breeze is too light, and as he must go nearly twenty miles by water to reach the insurgent lines, a sailing vessel would be out of the question. The note you saw thrown by the native boatman undoubtedly set a rendezvous for this evening. They will want to get the arms to the insurgents as soon as possible.” Phil and Sydney made their preparations quietly. O’Neil was called and told something of what was going forward and ordered to keep his launch, the “Vidette,” in readiness. All afternoon the lads spent on deck, casting anxious glances toward the dock where the minister’s launch was tied. There were a number of other launches moving about the harbor, but there was only one other large enough to carry the boxes. About 7 P. M., the sun having set a half hour before, it was dark enough to start, and they appeared on deck. “We have the captain’s permission to use the ‘Vidette,’” Phil reported to the officer of the deck. “I have reported to Mr. Penfield. Will you have her called away, sir?” Then Phil peered through the darkness, the deck lights not being lighted as yet, and saw Lazar was the officer of the deck. “What could he do to prevent our going?” thought Phil nervously. “Nothing, he would not dare.” “Very well, sir,” Lazar answered carelessly, and then he ordered the bugler to “call the ‘Vidette’ away.” Ten minutes dragged by, and still the “Vidette” hung at the lower boom, motionless in the water. A launch steamed by the battle-ship at fair speed, standing out of the harbor. Phil and Sydney strained their eyes in an endeavor to discover its identity, but the night was too dark and it was soon lost sight of in the distance. Phil felt sure it was the cargo of arms. He could suppress his impatience no longer. “Mr. Lazar,” he spoke abruptly, “may I go and find out what is holding the ‘Vidette’?” “No, sir, I shall find out in plenty of time,” he sneered. “You young gentlemen seem to be in great haste.” Finally he hailed the “Vidette” and inquired what was the trouble. An answer came back in O’Neil’s voice. “We can’t get any water in the boiler; the feed pump is jammed, sir,” he cried, in exasperation. Phil’s heart sank. There was the prize slipping away before their very eyes. He knew that this must be Lazar’s work. Turning quickly he rushed to the cabin and unannounced burst in upon the commanding officer. “Some one has deliberately disabled the ‘Vidette,’” he cried excitedly. “I can’t tell you why now, but believe me, sir, it is very important for us to get away at once. I asked the officer of the deck, Mr. Lazar, for permission to go down into the boat, but he refuses.” The captain glanced up startled, a look of annoyance on his face. Then he realized that the lad was in deadly earnest. Picking up his cap he led the way on deck.