Presently he went on the bridge and searched the shimmering sea astern. His demeanor was not so uneasy as vigilant and preoccupied. So long did he stand in the one position with the glasses at his eyes that Gerald Van Steen became curious and tried to descry whatever it was that had attracted the captain’s notice. At length he was able to make out a trailing wisp of brown vapor, like a bit of cloud, where sea and sky met. “There is some kind of a steamer astern of us,” said Van Steen to Nora Forbes. “Perhaps it is a German or English mail-boat. If so, I can see no objection to transferring us aboard.” Captain O’Shea overheard the remark and called to them: “No mail-steamer is due on this course. And it is not a cargo tramp or she would not be steaming faster than we are.” “Then what can it be?” asked Nora. “I cannot tell ye, Miss Forbes, nor am I anxious at all to let her come close enough to find out.” On the lower deck the Cubans were flocking to the overhang or climbing on the rail to gaze at the distant smoke astern. They talked excitedly, with many gestures. Evidently here was an event of some importance. Little by little the other steamer cut down the miles of intervening space until her funnel was visible. The _Fearless_ had been making no unusual effort to increase her own speed, but now Captain O’Shea said a few words into the engine-room speaking-tube, and Johnny Kent came trundling up from below, wiping his face with a bunch of waste. The captain took him by the arm and imparted: “I do not like the looks of her, Johnny; she is too fast to be healthy for us. I got the word in New York that two of the _Almirante_ cruiser class were coming out from Spain to join the blockadin’ fleet and make it hot for our business. There is nothing on the coast that can do over twelve knots, is there?” “Only the _Julio Sanchez_, Cap’n Mike, and she’s laid up at Havana with her boilers in awful shape. I suppose you want me to hook up and burn my good coal.” “I think this is a poor place to loaf in, Johnny. There was something said about a reward of fifty thousand dollars to the Spanish navy vessel that overhauled the _Fearless_ and sunk her at sea. Better crack on steam and maybe we can lose that fellow yonder after nightfall.” “Aye, aye, Cap’n Mike, I’ll put the clamps on the safety-valves, and take care not to look at the gauges. I’ll need more help below.” “Grab the deck-hands. Get to it.” “And I was just crawlin’ into my bunk to finish the most excitin’ novel you ever read,” mourned Johnny Kent as he footed it down the ladder. “It’s all about adventures. The situations are hair-raisin’, Cap’n Mike.” Young Mr. Van Steen had edged within ear-shot so that he heard part of this dialogue. Returning to the ladies, he thrust his hands in his pockets and tried to hide his perturbation. Nora questioned him eagerly, and he answered with a shrug and a laugh: