“A salute!” cried Captain Anderson, raising his voice to make himself heard. “He is some one of importance. Now I wonder——”
He broke off suddenly, as he counted the number of guns and, in his mind, ran over the list of relatives of the German Emperor. Then his clouded brow cleared, and he smiled.
“If he wishes to keep it a secret, I am not the man to betray it,” he said to himself.
That Captain Anderson knew who “Captain Von Blusen” really was there could be no doubt, but the commander of the Yucatan kept his promise to himself and confided to no one, in spite of the questions that were poured on him later.
Now Captain Anderson gave the signal to get under way, and the Yucatan slowly gathered headway. The German cruiser remained stationary as the Yucatan approached, and the big steamship passed her less than a quarter of a mile away.
There, on the bridge of the cruiser, with the commander of the vessel and his officers standing at attention, stood “Captain Von Blusen.” The passengers waved their hands at him, and he, in return, lifted his cap and made a low bow.
Then the passengers aboard the Yucatan saw him turn to the man they could make out was the commander of the cruiser and give a sharp command. The latter repeated it to one of his officers, and a moment later a second salvo broke out from the cruiser. At the same time the German flag at the masthead was dipped in salute.
“That,” said Captain Anderson calmly, “is a fine token of respect. Too bad we haven’t the guns with which to return it.”
He gave an order, however, and the American ensign at the masthead of the Yucatan returned the salute.
These courtesies having been exchanged, all became bustle and hurry aboard the German cruiser, as the passengers on the Yucatan could see. Men dashed hurriedly hither and thither, and a moment later the cruiser swung slowly about and headed due south.