“Not yet; not for an hour. In short, we are going to burn some powder by and by. A little target practice, and if you have never seen anything of the sort you will be rather interested.”
“Confound his target practice,” Jack mutters disgustedly, as Capt. Meade bustles away. “The only powder-burning I want to see is the shelling of the dingy old city of Santiago by the Spanish fleet.”
But Ashley’s temporary annoyance is soon forgotten in the pleasure of assisting Juanita up and down the steep ladders, of explaining the machinery, the guns, the great searchlight and the thousand and one interesting features of the cruiser.
The target practice, he also finds, is a decidedly interesting affair, after all, which conclusion may have been influenced by the manifest delight of his sweetheart over the novel experience.
But the last gun is fired, the buoy mark is demolished, and, within forty-eight hours, Capt. Meade tells Jack, the America will be lying at anchor in the harbor of Key West.
“And she will return to Santiago, when?” the correspondent inquires. “I must be back at the finish, if the insurgents capture the city and it is shelled by the Spanish fleet.”
Capt. Meade shakes his head. “That depends on instructions received at Key West. I suppose though, that the cruiser would be ordered directly back to Santiago after coaling.”
Just then the captain is summoned to the bridge, where it is evident that some unusual occurrence is engrossing the attention of the officers.
Jack observes that the captain has his glass turned toward the northwest, and he also looks in that direction. Trails of black smoke low down on the horizon, evidently from two steamers, are all that reward his gaze, but he notices that the course of the America has been changed and that her speed has been materially accelerated.
“What is in the wind?” he inquires, casually, of the youthful ensign.