A big black cloud was floating on the horizon, and Hal looked at it long and earnestly.
"I believe it's the smoke of a fleet," he said at length. "If it is, I am for chancing the Spaniards, and running down towards that cloud."
Gerald hastily agreed, whereupon Hal dived below again, and having seen to the lubricating of his engine, opened the throttle-valve. Every minute as they ran to the west the cloud became more certainly one of smoke, and within an hour they had made out that six large battleships were bearing down upon them at an easy pace. Then a breeze got up and blew the smoke away, the masts and funnels of the on-coming fleet becoming at once visible, sharply silhouetted against the clear morning sky.
"They're wagging their signals," said Hal, poking his head up above the deck, and taking a long look. "No doubt they have spotted us, and will send at once to find out who we are."
He had scarcely finished speaking, when a long, low hull shot out from behind one of the bigger ships, and came steaming at a great pace towards them.
"A torpedo boat," said Hal. "We'll lie to, and wait for her."
Turning off the steam, he mounted to the deck, and sat down by Gerald's side. A quarter of an hour later the torpedo boat was close at hand, and, surging up beside the launch, rounded to, and circled completely about her, setting the tiny vessel dancing to the swell.
"Hooray! She's flying the Stars and Stripes," shouted Gerald, flinging his cap into the air. "We're safe at last, old boy, and there is a good square meal in sight."
"Aboard there! Who are you?" came the hail across the water. "Where on earth do you come from? and what port are you bound for?"
"We're from Santiago. We left there this morning," Hal shouted back, making a funnel of his hands.