We will have
to stop," and without waiting for a reply he jerked the signal
indicator, to cease headway. Mr. Howland was at no pains to conceal
his chagrin.
"A mighty bad stumbling-block; a mighty bad stumbling-block if the navy
has revolted, Captain Merrithew. If this Government falls, it means a
great deal to me; means the loss of considerable money--and prestige.
I must look to you to land those guns, Captain."
Dan did not reply, but gazed earnestly toward the city as though
meditating a dash. But that was out of the question, considering those
aboard. As the chug of the engines died out and the cough of the
exhaust hit the glooming air and the clumsy black hull slid to a
gurgling standstill, a gig was lowered from the _El Toro_, the
flag-ship, and the officer, Admiral Congosto, was soon stumbling up the
gangway of the freighter. Mr. Howland was inclined to have him thrown
overboard at once, but the better counsel of the Captain prevailed.
"Very well," growled the ruffled owner, "have your fling."
Admiral Congosto was a pompous Spaniard, obese, with bristling brows
and moustaches, who wrinkled his forehead and winked his eyes
constantly.
"So," he said, with unctuous dignity, as Dan met him at the rail, "the
Capitan?"
"Yes; the Capitan," and Dan bowed courteously.
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