Our attention was called to a Jacky sewing on a blue shirt.
"Do you see that man over there?" said our guide.
We answered "Yes."
"Well, that's the chap that blew up one of the torpedo boats."
"Is that so? Tell us about it." We gazed open-mouthed at the gunner as he sat cross-legged on the deck, sewing with all his might.
"Yes, that's the chap. You see, the Spaniard was coming in our direction, and coming like greased lightning. The six-pounders on the superstructure had not been able to stop her, and things began to be interesting—"
"Yes," we gasped, breathlessly, as he stopped to light his pipe.
"Well, as I was saying, the blooming torpedo boat came nearer and nearer, and did not seem to mind the hail of six-pounders any more than a duck does the rain. I dunno why, for she had no protection that a sixer would not penetrate.
"It got to be blamed exciting, when the officer of the division said to that feller over there, who was a captain of an eight-inch rifle, 'Try your hand at it.'
"Bill said, 'Aye, aye, sir, give me time and I'll plunk her sure.' All this time the sneaking craft was coming nearer and nearer. Bill adjusted his sight and looked and looked, but still did not fire.