"This will be a long chase," said the lieutenant. "If she takes it into her head to run we'll have a hard time to catch up to her before dark."
Clif glanced significantly at the bow gun.
"If we can only get within range," he thought to himself, "we won't have to wait to catch up to her."
The lieutenant was standing by the pilot house with the glass in his hand, and every once in a while he would make an attempt to catch sight of the stranger's smokestack.
"It may be one of our own warships," he said, "and if it is we don't want to waste any coal chasing her."
But such was not the case, and it was only half an hour or so before the lieutenant found it out. The Uncas rose as a high wave swept by; and the officer, who had the glass to his eye, gave an eager exclamation.
"She's got one funnel," he exclaimed, "and it's black, with a red top; and so it's not an American warship."
And after that there was nothing now to be done except wait until the two approached nearer.
It was evident from the gradual change of course the Uncas was obliged to make that the vessel she was following was headed in a southerly direction.
"That would take her toward the western end of Cuba," Clif thought to himself. "Perhaps she's sighted us and is running away."