Not a word of this speech did any of the Spaniards understand, but Young Glory instantly translated it for their benefit. One after another they slowly filed up the gangway. There were not less than forty of them, and it may be imagined that their appearance created a great sensation. "Spaniards!" cried Captain Miles. "Why, it's a regular army." "Widout arms, Yer Honor," said Dan. "It's meself has their guns and swords." "This is most extraordinary, and what's this?" "I report myself returned, sir." "Young Glory!" The skipper staggered back a few paces, he was so astounded. "There are about forty rifles and as many cutlasses in the boats below, sir." "They must be brought on board at once." "That is not all, sir." "Is there more, Young Glory?" "Yes, sir. There are two large boats also filled with ammunition." "That must be brought aboard, too." The captain turned to the lieutenant-commander, and gave the necessary orders. "Now, Young Glory, you and Dan Daly will come to my cabin at once. I want to hear all that's happened." And he sat spellbound whilst Young Glory related the whole story, beginning with Dan's escape, and ending with the capture of the boats. "It's a letter I had for you, sir," said Dan, "but faith, I couldn't get out to sea." "The letter is no good now, Dan. Tear it up." "No, no!" exclaimed Captain Miles, eagerly, taking possession of it. "This letter shall be preserved. It will be a memento of one of the bravest actions ever done by an American seaman." It was little rest that Dan and Young Glory had that night. Their comrades insisted on hearing every detail of their marvelous adventures, and the day had dawned before they sank to rest. Each of them was indulged with an unusual allowance of sleep that night, on account of their great exertions, and when they awoke and went on deck, the shores of Cuba had faded from sight, and the gallant Cruiser Brooklyn was steaming through the Caribbean sea in an easterly direction. "Where are we bound?" was the universal question now. "Ask Young Glory. He knows everything," laughingly said one of the men. "It's Porto Rico we're going to," cried one of the sailors. "I heard an officer say so." "Porto Rico! That belongs to Spain, eh?" asked one of the sailors. "Spain! Why, no! China, of course!" "Ha, ha!" The men were in the highest spirits now. They had not enjoyed the work of the past few days, cruising about off Valmosa and Monterey. Inaction is the last thing a blue jacket appreciates. Now there was always something to do, and Captain Miles, a first-class officer, saw that everything was done to perfection. "If we do go into action," he said, "it will not be our fault if we are beaten!" The run to Porto Rico took some days. The lookout men were on the alert, expecting to sight land every minute. Suddenly there was a shout from one of them. "Porto Rico at last!" cried one of the sailors, joyfully. "A sail!" cried the lookout man. "Where?"