"From where?"
"Morro Castle."
The Spaniard looked the amazement he felt.
"Morro Castle!" he echoed. "Humph! How did you get out?"
"Take us back there and you'll find out," was Clif's defiant answer.
And with that he turned toward the girl to wipe her dripping hair from her face.
He expected that the man would continue questioning them. But he was mistaken. The Spanish gunboat had done a risky thing, running out as it had, and her officers were anxious to get back.
The man turned away and hurried off. A sailor with a pair of handcuffs approached Clif, and the cadet quietly allowed his wrists to be secured.
Bessie Stuart was fortunately spared that indignity. The sailor gruffly ordered them to go below.
The vessel, meanwhile, had resumed her trip. She had been running along close to the coast under cover of the darkness of the previous night. And now she turned to steal back.