Mabel was highly indignant, and took herself off, leaving the young man smiling after her. Then he shrugged his shoulders and walked away.
All morning the sun shone warm and bright, though it was not too hot for comfort. It was shortly after noon when the passengers were treated to an interesting sight.
Some distance to port came the smoke of another ship, and as it drew nearer an air of subdued excitement became apparent on the Yucatan.
“Armed cruiser off the port bow, sir!” came the hail from the lookout.
All rushed toward the rail, and stood looking at the large ship of war, as she bore down toward them. There was no flag at her masthead, and so the passengers were unable to determine her nationality.
“What can she be?” exclaimed Shirley.
“British, I suppose,” was Dick’s answer. “She’ll show her colors presently, I guess.”
Dick was right. Five minutes later the British ensign was run up the masthead and fluttered in the breeze.
A great cheer broke from most of the passengers aboard the Yucatan. Shirley and Mabel joined in it.
At that moment Dick caught sight of the face of Bristow, who stood near. His lips were compressed, and he scowled fiercely.