The _Reina Cristina_ immediately sank, according to the orders of the Admiral, and I turned my attention to the _Don Juan de Austria_. Rowing across the raging channel to the _Baltimore_, I boarded her and pulled the lanyard of the port boom forty-two. The discharge was terrific. "What has happened?" I asked, coolly, as the explosion exploded. "Did we hit her?" "We did, your honor," said the Bo's'n's mate, "square in the eye; only, Commodore, it ain't a her this time--it's a him. It's the _Don Juan de_--" "Never mind the sex," I cried. "Has she sank?" "No, sir," replied the Bo's'n's mate, "she 'ain't sank yet. She's a-waiting orders." "Fly signals to sink," said I, sternly, for I had resolved that she should go down. They did so, and the _Don Juan de Austria_ immediately disappeared beneath the waves. Her commander evidently realized that I meant what I signalled. "Are there any more of the enemy afloat?" I demanded, jumping from the deck of the _Baltimore_ to that of the _Concord_. "No, Commodore," replied the captain of the latter. "Then signal the enemy to charter two more gunboats and have 'em sent out. I can't be put off with two boats when I'm ready to sink four," I replied. [Illustration: SINKING THE _CASTILLA_] The _Concord_ immediately telephoned to the Spanish commandant at the Manila Café de la Paix, who as quickly chartered the _Castilla_ and the _Velasco_--two very good boats that had recently come in in ballast with the idea of loading up with bananas and tobacco. While waiting for these vessels to come out and be sunk, I ordered all hands to breakfast, thus reviving their falling courage. It was a very good breakfast, too. We had mush and hominy and potatoes in every style, beefsteak, chops, liver and bacon, chicken hash, buckwheat cakes and fish-balls, coffee, tea, rolls, toast, and brown bread. Just as we were eating the latter the _Castilla_ and _Velasco_ came out. I fired my revolver at the _Castilla_ and threw a fish-ball at the _Velasco_. Both immediately burst into flames. Manila was conquered. The fleet gone, the city fell. It not only fell, but slid, and by nightfall Old Glory waved over the citadel. The foe was licked. To-morrow I am to see Dewey again. I think I shall resign to-night. P.S.--Please send word to the magazines that all articles by Dewey must be written by Me. Terms, $500 per word. The strain has been worth it. X THE MYSTERY OF PINKHAM'S DIAMOND STUD _Being the tale told by the holder of the eleventh ball, Mr. Fulton Streete_ "It is the little things that tell in detective work, my dear Watson," said Sherlock Holmes as we sat over our walnuts and coffee one bitter winter night shortly before his unfortunate departure to Switzerland, whence he never returned.