“There is yet time for him to swim after the vessel!” jibed another Spaniard.
“Or let him cruise home on the Maine!”
At this there was a cyclonic burst of laughter.
Instantly the other Spaniards began to cast about for sayings which the crowd would regard as being witty.
Hal Maynard’s eyes flashed.
A fight would be helpless—hopeless, leaving him only the fate of death at the hands of this jibing, vicious mob.
Yet no sooner was the word “Maine” uttered than he turned once more to where the wreck of the Maine lay and lifted his hat with a motion of reverence.
It was grit—clear grit! That much even the Spaniards could appreciate.
It was a defiance, too, and in a moment angry murmurs went up.
“Let us see if a Yankee pig can swim!”