"If I didn't know that our English friends owned the only ships of that caliber, and that our own are unhappily still in process of equipment at Newport News, I should say that those were two Dreadnoughts."
"I guess you've had a sunstroke," rang out the answer.
"Sunstroke or no sunstroke, those are two Dreadnoughts."
"But where can they come from?"
The three men examined the horizon in silence, till Lieutenant Wood suddenly broke it by exclaiming: "There, do you see, to the left, just appearing on the horizon, that's our transport fleet—eight—ten ships; the one in front is probably the Olympia."
"Twelve ships," counted the keeper,"and if I may be allowed to say so, the two in front are battleships."
"There they are then," said Ben Wood, "and now we'll get something to eat in a jiffy, for we'll have our work cut out for us in an hour!"
"Where shall we eat?" asked Spencer, "I'll gladly dispense with the grub at Signor Morrosini's to-day."
"I'll tell you what," said the other, "we'll go across to one of the transport-steamers; or, better still, we'll go to the captain of the Marietta—we'll be sure to get something decent to eat there."
"Right you are!" said Spencer, peering down over the edge of the railing. "Our cutter is down there," he added.