They had the balanced sweeps out in a moment, and pulled with a will, while when they reached the craft that lay waiting them an officer stood by an opening in her rail. He spoke to them in Castilian, but Harper laughed, for he had recognized his uniform. “I’ve no use for that talk,” he said. “Get your ladder over!” It was done, and in another moment he and Appleby stood on the torpedo boat’s deck, where a couple of officers stared at them. “Since you’re not Cubans, where were you going in that boat?” said one. “I guess you’d better take us right along to your commander,” said Harper. “Aren’t you going to shake hands with a countryman, anyway?” The officer laughed. “I’ll wait,” he said dryly, “until I’ve heard what you have to say. Didn’t you make your boat fast before you left her?” “No, sir,” said Harper. “We have no more use for her. We’re coming along with you.” “Well, I guess we can pick her up again if that doesn’t suit our commander,” said the officer. He led them aft to a little cabin, and left them there until a young officer came in. He sat down on the opposite side of the little table and looked at them. “You haven’t the appearance of Cubans, in spite of your clothes,” he said. “Now, I’ll ask you for a straight tale. What brought you off the land in a boat of that kind?” “A wish to get as far away from Cuba by sunrise as we could,” said Appleby. “What did you want to get out of Cuba for?” “Is there any special reason why I should tell you?” asked Appleby, who was a trifle nettled. “It seems to me there is. Anyway, back you go into your boat unless you satisfy me.” Appleby looked at the man a moment, and was pleasantly impressed, in spite of the abruptness of his manner. He had a quiet bronzed face and steady eyes, while the faint ring of command in his voice did not seem out of keeping with them. “Then if you will listen for a minute or two I will try to tell you,” he said. “Quick as you can!” Appleby spoke rapidly, disregarding Harper, who seemed anxious to tell the story too, and the commander nodded. “Who is the American that employed you?” he said. “Cyrus P. Harding.” The commander, who started, cast a swift glance at him, and then rising abruptly signed to a man at the door. “Tell Lieutenant Stalker he may go ahead, as we were steering, full speed,” he said. The man went away, and in another moment or two the frail hull quivered until the deck beams rattled above them. Then while the splash of flung‐ off water swelled into a deep pulsating sound it seemed to leap onward under them, and the commander sat down again, looking at Appleby with a curious little smile in his eyes. “I haven’t asked your name yet, and scarcely think it’s necessary,” he said. “So far as my duty permits, you can count upon my doing everything I can to meet your wishes, Mr. Appleby.” Appleby stared at him. “I appreciate your offer, though I don’t quite understand it yet,” he said.