A few moments afterward, they climbed the high gangway ladder and passed through two lines of saluting sailors. The officer of the deck of the “Connecticut,” a lieutenant, stood civilly by to receive the foreign officers.
“Why, it’s Mr. Perry,” he gasped, wringing the lad’s hand gladly. “Whatever are you doing in those togs? We had given all three of you up for dead,” he added. “The admiral and Captain Taylor will be mighty glad to see you. We are flag-ship now.”
The lads descended to their room, while O’Neil was escorted forward by a worshiping crowd of shipmates.
The boys discarded their foreign uniforms and donning their simple midshipman’s clothes were ready to report their return to their commanding officer.
In a few minutes they entered the cabin. Captain Taylor’s face was smiling with joy as he, almost embracing the midshipmen, introduced them to the commander-in-chief, Admiral Spotts. The boys were abashed in the presence of such an important personage.
“Gentlemen, this is indeed a happy moment,” Captain Taylor exclaimed. “Before the cruisers were sighted entering the harbor we were about to cable to the Navy Department the news of your deaths.”
“Our deaths, sir!” cried both lads aghast.
“Yes,” Captain Taylor explained. “We heard four days ago that the ‘Aquadores’ had been sunk with all on board. The leader of the rebellion, General Ruiz, gave out the news as received by cable from Rio Grande. We have tried to catch you by wireless but not receiving any answer to our call, we feared the news was authentic. He also issued an ultimatum that La Boca would be blockaded—Admiral Spotts with his squadron was ordered here from the West Indies and arrived but an hour ago.”
“‘Aquadores’ sunk!” exclaimed Phil. “Why should he give such information?”
“What did happen? Tell us,” questioned the admiral eagerly.