Poole could talk Spanish fairly well, so he said:

“Well, what can I do for you, sir?”

His manner was so brusque that the dapper little Spaniard straightened up. With an affectation of dignity, he said:

“We must search your vessel, senor!”

Then he motioned to the marines. In a moment they were over the rail and ranged upon the deck.

The Meta was in the power of the Spanish. Poole turned black in the face.

“What!” he roared, “you dare to board a vessel flying the United States flag? This is an outrage and you will pay dearly for it, I promise you.”

Carriero smiled suavely in reply.

“What do you think we are?” cried Poole in desperation. “We are not filibusters.”

Again the lieutenant smiled and bowed. Then he spoke sharp orders to his men.