Young Glory and the Spanish cruiser : $b or, a brave fight against oddsMott, Walter Fenton
History
Young Glory and the Spanish cruiser : $b or, a brave fight against odds
Mott, Walter Fenton
Seafaring life -- Juvenile fiction; Spanish-American War, 1898 -- Juvenile fiction; War stories
Several people, evidently servants belonging to the house rushed into
the patis, but none of them attempted to interfere with the two
Americans. They seemed completely scared, and stood with startled looks
on their faces as the fugitives dashed past.
Now they were in the road.
This part of the village was deserted, for all the people had gone round
to the rear of the house where the execution of Dan Daly was to have
taken place. It was a sight they did not care to miss.
So Young Glory and Dan crossed the road and then entered a thick wood,
which seemed to them to have no paths in it.
Through it they pushed their way, listening intently for sounds of their
pursuers. Their progress was slow, but so would that be of the men who
were after them. The only advantage the latter possessed was that they
knew the country.
"Water!" cried Young Glory.
"It's a river, shure," said Dan.
"No, there's no river in these parts. I'm certain of that. It must be a
creek--part of the sea, in fact."
"Faith, it's small use talkin' about it. It's there, an', begorra, our
goose is cooked; we can niver get any further."
"It's a bad lookout."
"An' why shouldn't we swim, Young Glory?"
"And be shot down. How long would it take us to get to the other side?
Why, if we escaped the bullets the Spaniards would send after us, we'd
find the enemy waiting for us when we landed. That's so, Dan; take my
word for it."
Dan turned slowly round. Young Glory regarded him with amazement.
"Where are you going?"
"It's savin' time I want to be. We can't escape. It's yourself said so,
an' shure I'll jist go back an' meet the Spaniards."
"Pshaw! We are not captured yet, Dan! There are more ways than one of
getting out of a difficulty. We'll keep along by the creek, close to the
trees, ready to get amongst them if anybody shows up."
"It's in your hands, I am," said Dan Daly, resignedly.
Now, Young Glory knew the position was very serious. He had not the
faintest notice how they were to escape.
It might have been possible for him to have got away, but not for Dan.
The Irishman was wearing an American naval uniform. To desert Dan, of
course, never entered Young Glory's head.
Dan put his hand on the boy's arm at this moment.
"It's back ye must be kapin'."
"Why?"
"Shure, there's a house."
"I see it."
Young Glory's face brightened instantly.
"By jingo, this may be our salvation!" he cried.
"It's puzzled I am!"
"I'm not. Stay where you are, Dan. That is to say, get amongst these
trees till you hear from me."
"But where are ye goin'?"
"Going to call on some friends of mine who live in that house."
Before Dan could say a word, Young Glory was gone, and the Irishman,
mindful of his safety, hid himself amid the bushes, still keeping a
watch on the house to which his comrade was going.
Young Glory walked boldly up to the hut, for it was no more, and
hammered sharply on the door.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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