During this interval, life on board the masquerading destroyer was one long round of practice drills in the American loading and firing methods. Ned and Herc, too, alternated in making test readings with the range-finder, till they became almost as expert as any gunnery officer in reading off the exact range. In the meantime Stanley, stripped to a singlet and trousers, toiled and sweated with his yellow pupils, who grew to like this rough-and-ready Americano very much. With their liking grew up a feeling of confidence. The bracing effect of the presence of the clean-cut Americans, who always went at a thing as if they meant it, had a great effect on the vacillating, hesitating Latins, both officers and men. During this period, too, the Dreadnought Boys and their companions came to have a sincere respect and regard for Captain Gomez. Not one word of complaint or timidity had they heard him utter since they had been on board. They came to regard him as a man in a thousand. Courageous, yet gentle and courteous, he was a fine specimen of sea fighter. In this respect, it may be said in parenthesis, he differed widely from most of his race. Possibly his American education had something to do with it. But whether it was her remarkable pertinacity in sticking to that one portion of the coast, or the fact that from her forward funnel no smoke was ever seen to issue, the commandant of the fortress of Santa Anna became suspicious on the morning of the third day and ordered the _Manueal Calvo_ to stick her nose outside the harbor and look the supposed American over. Of course, her commander was ordered to make absolutely no move that could be construed into a hostile intention. His instructions, however, were to make a complete investigation of the mysterious craft. And so it came about that when Stark emerged from his cabin before breakfast that day he found considerable excitement to greet him. The lookout had just sighted a moving column of black smoke above the promontory to the south of the town of Santa Anna. Taking his place with the others on the bridge, the middy eagerly watched the dark pillar moving seaward, till presently the sharp, black nose of a yachtlike-looking vessel emerged from behind the green barrier. “The _Manueal Calvo_!” exclaimed Captain Gomez, as his eyes fell on her. At any other time the boys would have admired the picture she made. The water was spumed into a creamy bow wave by her sharp forefoot. Her yellow funnels poured clouds of black smoke against the blue heavens as she came on. Every line and stay showed sharp, as if etched, and the rising sun occasionally glinted on a bright gun or bit of brasswork. But just now the approach of the _Calvo_ meant a lot more to them than a pretty picture. Their whole fate, their lives, in fact, might hang upon the events of the next few minutes. Suddenly a string of bright flags broke out on the _Calvo’s_ signal halliards between the fore and main masts.