On dashed the Americans, and now a wandering breeze swept aside for a moment the clouds of heavy smoke enveloping the attacking ship, and they recognized her with a cry of surprise as the destroyer _General Barrill_, which they had last seen at Hermillo. Her decks flashed incessantly as her guns were worked. Stanley looked on approvingly. “They’ll make a mess of this place.” “I don’t know,” cried the middy suddenly, as a shell shrieked toward the courageous little craft. “The land batteries have opened fire.” “And, by Christopher Columbus, they’ve got the range, too!” exclaimed Stanley, as a shell struck the water near the adventurous little destroyer. “If only we were aboard her we would be safe for a while,” breathed Ned, as they perceived the red, white and blue, with the gold star, of the Costavezan republic floating at the bombarding vessel’s stern. “It was my idea to make for her,” rejoined Stanley. “Come on, let’s get down on that little wharf there and wave to her. If we can attract their attention they’ll take us on board.” “If the fire from the fort doesn’t get too hot, and they have to skedaddle first,” observed the middy. There was good reason for his fear. Shells were now breaking all about the destroyer. So far, however, she seemed uninjured. They gained the wharf that Stanley had indicated in a few minutes. As they stood breathless on the slender timbers Stanley gave a shout. “A boat!” he exclaimed, pointing to a small dinghy moored below. “Come on, we’ll row out!” cried the middy. “Get aboard there, men. Slippy now!” In another moment they had put several boats’ lengths between themselves and the wharf. “Hooray!” Ned could not help shouting, as the boat moved rapidly over the water. His enthusiasm received an abrupt check. Not a hundred yards from them a shell from the fort struck the water. “They’ve seen us!” cried the middy. “That may have been a chance shot, sir,” observed Stanley. “If they fire any more we’ll know then what their target is.” Even as he spoke another shell whizzed toward them. It exploded in a “raying” smother of brown smoke. “Wow! that was close,” exclaimed the boatswain’s mate, as the spray showered them. “Another one like that----” Boom! The explosion cut short Ned’s words. “They’re getting the range. That one wasn’t a hundred feet away,” grunted Stanley. “Give way now, boys.” He suited the action to the word. His great muscles strained till the oar bent under his pull, but fast as the boat leaped through the water there was still a lamentably large space separating her from the torpedo-boat destroyer. The _General Barrill_ all this time had been firing away unceasingly at the shore, but without apparently succeeding in silencing one of the guns. “I hope that our old general is up in that battery,” observed the middy, as a shell from the destroyer burst in clouds of dust right inside the fortifications, as it seemed.