Watching this scene from the launch, Lieutenant Ridder exhaled a deep breath of relief as he saw the sentry walk away and disappear within the fortress. “He got away with it, all right,” he muttered joyously. “But,” he added grimly, “the worst is yet to come.” The next five minutes were the most anxious ones that Ridder had ever passed through in all his life. As he sat, with his hands gripping the wheel of the launch, straining his eyes in an effort to see what was going on ashore, his teeth were clenched and his heart was pounding against his ribs. The man in the blue spectacles had disappeared behind a row of tall bushes in front of the fortress. Presently--it seemed like ages to the anxious naval officer--there came from behind this foliage a flash of light and a dull boom like an explosion of wet powder. Ridder gave vent to an ejaculation of joy. “By Jove, he’s done it!” he muttered. “Good old Hawley!” As he saw a slim figure dart out from behind the bushes and approach the water’s edge, he gave the wheel in his hand a swift turn and sent the launch dashing toward the beach. But short as was the distance the boat had to cover to reach his comrade, he was too late. Led by a stout man in civilian garb, a swarm of soldiers had rushed out of the fortress and seized the Camera Chap just as the latter, perceiving that the launch would not get to him in time, was about to throw himself into the water. “What have we here?” exclaimed the corpulent person in civilian garb, savagely tearing the blue spectacles from the prisoner’s face. Then, as he recognized Hawley, he uttered an exclamation of mingled astonishment and joy. “Ah, I perceive it is our brave and ingenious Yankee snapshotter!” he sneered. “So you have come back to Baracoa, señor! Permit me to compliment you upon the brilliancy of your latest exploit, and to condole with you that such a brave and clever attempt should have met with such poor success. We----” He did not finish the sentence, for at that moment Lieutenant Ridder with the three sailors of the launch at his heels, rushed up to the group. “Let this man go!” the naval officer bellowed, brandishing a revolver. “He’s an American citizen, and you daren’t touch him.” The fat man laughed ironically. “You appear to have an extremely vague idea of international law, my impetuous friend,” he remarked; “surprisingly vague, in view of the uniform you wear. I should advise you, señor, to go back to your ship, and to congratulate yourself that you, too, are not placed under arrest. Unless you depart immediately, the consequences are liable to be serious for both yourself and your country.” “For my country!” Ridder began derisively. “Why, you chump----”