"I am your captain," said Young Glory. "Obey my orders!" "You are a traitor!" "Seize him! Kill him!" These were the cries that were now heard. But a clear voice came from the shore. It was that of the man who had denounced Young Glory. "Do not kill him," he said. "Traitors must be treated differently. Make a prisoner of him." "Who are you who give your orders?" asked one of the men. "You seem to own us!" "Own or not," was the stern answer, "it will be bad for those who refuse to obey me. I am Jose Castro!" There was a buzz of astonishment. Everyone had heard of the famous Spanish spy, whose services to Spain in the war had been immense. "Jose Castro!" muttered Young Glory. "And I thought I had seen his hated face for the last time when he sank in the river at Seville. Such men never die. I am lost," he added, "but I will die fighting!" Three men came towards him. They were bent on carrying out the spy's orders, and were about to seize him. "Stand back!" he cried, defiantly. "Yield!" "Never!" "We are fifty to one. To fight is useless," said the Spanish soldier. "You will be killed." "Then I will die fighting. Back! I say," he added, as the men pressed forward. "I will never be taken alive!" "We shall see!" The three men rushed at Young Glory. Instantly he drew his sword. Around his head it flashed. Then down it came on the nearest man's head. He dropped. A moment later one of his companions was lying in his blood. The third man hesitated. "This shall cost you dearly," said Young Glory, defiantly, as he faced the crowd. "Shoot him!" "No, no! There must be no firing," said one of the sergeants. "A noise will bring the guns of the American cruiser on us. Once more, will you surrender?" "No!" "Rush at him, men. Cut him to pieces if he resists." Such an order is easier given than obeyed. Men cannot move about a boat with perfect freedom, and Young Glory standing in the stern was a desperate foe. The fight was renewed. It was a repetition of what had previously taken place. Two men fell before Young Glory's terrible sword, and the boy himself was not hurt. But now a diversion took place. Young Glory heard the sound of oars behind him, and he saw on turning his head, that one of the Spanish boats was hastily coming up. Attacked on both sides the end was certain. It was necessary to do something at once. To jump into the water was no good. The boats would row after him and capture him in a few minutes. In the sea he would be quite powerless to defend himself. "Now will you surrender?" cried the sergeant. "No!" "The boat will be on you in a minute. You will be between two fires." "I care not." "He's a brave fellow!" cried the sergeant, tauntingly. "Look at him, lads." "We can't see his face." "He'll keep this bluff up to the last, lads. Then he'll whine for mercy." "But let's see him." "Good!" The sergeant seized a torch, and instantly set fire to it. There was a glare of light. "Look at the hero!" he cried.