"Stop your nonsense, Midget," said Harry. "Remember what Captain Dynamite said last night. We are in the zone of danger to-day."
The noise had now somewhat subsided, and by the time the boys were dressed the usual quiet pervaded the ship.
Harry stepped from their stateroom into the main cabin and was surprised to see the captain sitting quietly at the table with his back turned to him. His elbows were resting on the table and his face was in his hands. He was looking intently at some object in front of him. He did not move as Harry approached, and the boy could see that he was gazing at a portrait.
"Good morning, sir," said Harry, stopping at a respectful distance. "Have we struck the danger zone, yet?"
"Danger—danger?"
The captain almost shrieked the words as he leaped to his feet, and clasping the portrait to his breast as if to protect it, turned fiercely on the boy.
"O, it's you," he said quickly, on recognizing Harry. Then he passed his hand over his eyes as if returning from a trance.
"I was with her when you spoke," he said softly, "and then the thought of danger drives me mad. See——"
The captain held out the photograph for the boy's inspection. It was the picture of a beautiful young woman of Spanish type, with dark hair and eyes.
"This time I take her home as my bride. She has promised it. I have left her too long at the mercy of Weyler's bloodhounds. But Gomez will see that no harm comes to my Juanita. He has promised. The general has promised, and soon—very soon, I shall take her away—away from this danger zone."