“Make all speed possible,” he ordered.
“Cripple her,” he cried to his gunners below. “Let neither escape us.”
The intense excitement was fairly stifling. Both vessels of the enemy were making more speed than Captain Garcia had given them credit for being able to do. The distance was not increasing but they were persistently holding their own, and the “Aquadores’” shooting had not, despite the volume of fire, succeeded in reducing their speed by even the fraction of a knot.
“Aim at her water line,” Phil shouted to his companions, pointing at the “Soledad.”
The next few shots from the “Aquadores” were fired singly by O’Neil. Phil sent him the exact range from his range finder, while Sydney saw the sight bar was accurately set.
The first shell struck only a few yards short, in her white wake. The next shot struck under her counter and exploded with an echoing report.
“You jammed her rudder,” Phil shouted jubilantly, as he saw the “Soledad” sheer widely to starboard and expose half of her broadside to the bow fire of the chaser. O’Neil saw his opportunity to plant a number of shells against her water line. Putting the cross wire of his telescope sight fairly and steadily on her water line amidships, he fired. The watchers on the bridge anxiously followed with their eyes the shell speeding toward the “Soledad.” Then the sound of a mighty explosion filled the air and the hindmost enemy was blotted out in a cloud of white, vapor-like smoke.
“Her boilers have exploded!” cried Phil, grasping Captain Garcia’s arm in his excitement.
The “Barcelo,” as if fearing the terrible punishment of her mate would be visited upon her, had stopped dead on the water.
Captain Garcia steamed his vessel cautiously up to the vanquished enemy.