In a few seconds the Costavezan standard was floating astern of the destroyer. The wind whipped out its bright folds and displayed it plainly for all to see.
“I’d give a month’s pay to be on board the Calvo now and see what they are doing!” thought Ned.
Below Stanley was looking up expectantly.
“All ready when you are, sir,” he said, surveying his well-drilled gun crews, all at their posts.
“What’s the range?” inquired the captain, turning to Ned.
The boy bent over the instrument.
“Four thousand yards,” he announced.
“Let them close up a bit. We want to make this short and effective.”
The captain rang for reduced speed. The Calvo, on the contrary, came rushing on. It was a bad blunder on her part. As the range-finder showed her within 1,000 yards Ned glanced expectantly at the captain.
“Open fire with the bow-chasers!” came the order.