"She's leaking in a dozen places!" the man shouted.
He clung to railing as he spoke, and a great wave half drowned him; but he managed to salute, and Clif saw a look of wild delight on his face, one that just corresponded with his own eager mood.
"She'll split in about half a minute, I fancy," the cadet answered, "and the Spaniards are welcome to what's left. We've done our duty."
And with that he turned to the pilot house, where the rest of the men were grouped. They were gazing at him eagerly.
"Are you ready, boys?" Clif shouted.
Every one knew what he meant by "ready"—ready to make the wild attempt to land and reach the shore through all those wildly surging breakers. The very thought of it was enough to stir one's blood.
And the answer came with a vengeance.
"Ay, ay, sir!"
"Then get out one of the boats," shouted Clif.
As he saw the men struggling forward to reach the nearest rowboat he turned suddenly on his heel. He had something else to attend to for a moment.