“Aye, aye, sor! Not more than two or three days ago.”
“Lower your gangway,” was the Spanish hail, “we want to come aboard and ask you about her.”
Barney was for a moment nonplussed. He was averse to being boarded by any craft. But this must be all right, he reflected. Spain and the United States were at peace. These Cubans officers could not have any harmful intention.
So he and Pomp lowered the gangway. A boatload of marines and an officer put off. The officer was Azata.
A few moments later the boat was alongside. Not until then did Barney see his mistake.
Over the rail like wolves came the Spaniards. Barney and Pomp fled toward the pilot-house to close the doors and sink the boat. But they were too late.
The Spaniards were upon them. A sharp struggle followed and they were quickly overpowered. Then from the bottom of the cruiser’s boat Poole sprung up and cleared the rail with a yell of triumph.
“Throw them overboard!” he yelled. “Dead men tell no tales! The submarine boat is ours!”
But Azata was cooler, and said:
“Not yet, senor. There is time enough for that. We may need them to tell us where the gold is. Search the craft!”