“There are already many Americans who take a different view. With Maximo Gomez and Calixta Garcia there are scores, if not hundreds, of American citizens. I have not heard that they make poor soldiers. Ramirez, I owe my life to you. You are a Cuban. Therefore, I owe my life to Cuba. I have no family ties; no obligation except to my employer. Captain Blodgett has undertaken to deliver the money to him. There is nothing to hold me back. You have remained in Havana because you did not have the twenty-five dollars with which to buy a gun. I have enough to buy two. Will you take me to the insurgents, or will you go alone?”
Ramirez still hesitated for a moment; next he darted forward seizing Hal’s hand.
“Senor, if you are in earnest, I will show you the way.”
“It is settled, then,” was all Hal Maynard said.
“Oh, this is glorious!” cried Ramirez, his eyes becoming misty. “At last I am to be able to join the Cuban army. More than that, I shall take a comrade with me.”
“Here is all the money I have in the world,” added Hal, turning his funds over to Juan. “Henceforth, it belongs to Cuba.”
“Let us lose not a moment’s time,” urged Ramirez, his eyes dancing with delight. “Senor, I am afraid to move, for fear I shall wake up and find it all a dream. I cannot delay for a second.”
“Nevertheless,” broke in Captain Blodgett, “I hope you will dally here for a little while. Young men, you are starting into an island where starvation reigns. Let me offer you a square meal—the last, perhaps, that you will get for weeks to come.”
“I do not need food,” declared Juan, trying to puff out his thin cheeks. “Happiness will sustain me.”
“I’m hungry, and not ashamed to say so,” interposed Hal, with a laugh. “If Captain Blodgett will do something to relieve that, I beg you, my dear fellow, to wait here a few moments.”