On the following morning the boys spent a good hour poring over the map of Cuba. It had been decided that they should go to Matanzas and Cardenas on the coast east of Havana, and they asked the professor why they could not continue eastward as far as Colon and Santa Clara. “We can if you wish it,” answered Amos Strong. “I see there is a railroad runs from Santa Clara to Cienfuegos on the south coast,” said Mark. “Why not go to that port? We ought to find some vessel there bound for Santiago.” Willing to do what the boys desired, within reasonable limits, Professor Strong put the matter to a vote. Four at once voted in favor of Mark’s plan. Hockley said neither yes nor no. “How do you vote, Jacob?” asked the professor, pleasantly. “What’s the use of my voting?” grumbled the tall youth. “If I voted the other way it would be four to one.” “Have you any objection to Mark’s plan?” “Oh, no, I reckon it’s as good as any. I think the whole of Cuba rather stale.” “What did you expect?” “Oh, I want to see something of life. Do they have bull fights?” “Not as they did formerly. But the Cubans are beginning to play baseball,” and there was a twinkle in the professor’s eye as he spoke. “Humph, I can see that at home.” “Oh, let’s go and see a game!” cried Darry. “Do you know of any here?” For reply the professor produced a handbill which had been given him in the courtyard of the hotel. It stated that a game of ball would take place that afternoon on a certain public grounds between the Palmas of Havana and the Roosevelts of Florida. “Say, but they are high-toned on names,” was Frank’s comment. “The President of Cuba against the President of the United States.” “Whoop!” cried Darry, throwing his cap into the air. “Let’s go and root for Teddy!” “Let’s!” shouted the others, and even Hockley brightened at the suggestion. The professor was quite willing to let them go, feeling that the game would likely give Hockley something of the excitement he craved. The matter was soon arranged, and they purchased the best seats available. When they reached the public grounds they found a crowd assembled, and the ball players were already at practice on the green field. There were several hundred Americans present, many in carriages, and among the carriages they discovered the Valois turnout, with Isabel Valois and a number of other young people. “I thought I’d see you here,” declared the young lady. “No Yankee boy can keep away from a ball game,” and she smiled as she shook hands and was introduced to those she had not before met.