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For an instant Clif thought of charging the battery with four men. But he realized the folly of that. "Quick!" he cried, "let us hide. Forward!" Lights were flashing and men shouting and running about behind the sand wall just in front of them, but the sailors were still unseen. They broke into a run and fairly flew down the shore.

"What was her name?" the other continued. "Stuart, I think. We will soon manage to stop her tricks, I fancy." Clif had been listening to their conversation without any particular interest. But suddenly as he heard that last speech his face flushed crimson and he half staggered back. "Bessie Stuart!" he gasped, under his breath.

The officers were struck dumb with amazement, and stood and stared at the smiling young man as though they could not believe their eyes. But after a time they crowded around him and examined the shell curiously, and then the papers that Clif held in his hand.

"This gentleman," said the officer, "is one of our trusted agents. And I have learned from him of your villainy." Clif was not in the least surprised at that. It was just what he had looked for. "I should be pleased to learn also, if I may, what has this trusted agent told you?" As he said that, he turned toward the grinning Ignacio. But it was the officer who continued speaking.

"Now, boys," cried Clif, "every man behind a tree and fight for all you are worth. Let every shot tell." The wisdom of Clif's stand became at once apparent. From the ambush of the woods they could fire with little fear of stopping a Spanish bullet with their own bodies. And they did fire, and that to good purpose.

And I think you love some one else I do not know whom; but I will not make you unhappy by urging you any more. I might take advantage of your present position to get you to promise to marry me. But I will not. If you will be ready to-night I will help you to escape, and prove what I said about dying for you." The girl stopped and sat silent, too much moved to speak. And Clif was too astonished.

"You have met me once more, my friend," he said, "and this time you will not get away." And that was all the conversation he had with him. Glancing about the deck he picked up a piece of rope and stepped toward the prisoner. He did not strike the fellow, as the Spaniards seemed to think he would. But the sailors flung him to the deck and Clif carefully bound his feet together.

After a hasty examination of the papers, he turned to Clif, who had remained standing, and asked some particulars of his meeting with the Cuban courier. Then Clif briefly but graphically told of his receiving the papers from the hands of the insurgent and of the latter's tragic death so soon after at the hands of the cowardly Spanish soldier who held him as a prisoner of war.

He dropped his weapon to the deck, reeled for an instant and then vanished over the side in the darkness. There was a moment of horror, and then Clif heard him strike with a thud on the small boat below. At the same time there was a bright flash just in front of Clif, and a bullet whistled past his ear. The Spanish sailor, who had only half reached the deck, had fired at him.

"The admiral told me about it himself. I believe you were the person who interfered." "I had the good luck to be standing near," said Clif, modestly. "And of course, I sprang between them." "And the spy stabbed you?" "Yes. In the shoulder, but he did not hurt me very much." "He must be a desperate man." "He is. That stabbing business seems to be a favorite trick of his.