In a second they were inside their machine and were speeding back along the road.
Reaching the villa of Mareno, they alighted by mutual consent and boldly entered the house by the rear door.
The native was dragged from his bed and under the terrifying influence of a loaded revolver at his head confessed that Señor Mareno and two companions had gone on foot nearly three hours ago, and that they had been told of the presence in the house of the two naval officers.
“We can catch her yet,” Captain Garcia declared stoutly as they sped back to La Boca.
In the course of what seemed ages to O’Neil, but was in reality but a half hour, they were on board the “Aquadores.”
As the cruiser steamed out of the harbor, O’Neil heard with a sinking heart the bells strike on the men-of-war at anchor. It was four o’clock and the escaping vessel had over three hours start. He had lost. The court would meet in four short hours and Midshipman Perry would be adjudged guilty.
Swiftly the “Aquadores” steamed to the westward. Captain Garcia and O’Neil on the forward bridge watched with failing hopes the gray of dawn spread on the eastern horizon behind them. The sea in front was unbroken. Their prize was not in sight.
Swiftly the cruiser plowed her way through the tranquil sea, but swifter yet the hands of the clock moved around its fatal dial. The sun appeared on the horizon out of a molten sea.
As the gloom slowly melted, the eager sailor, straining his eyes to discover the vessel he hoped the increasing light would soon reveal, sighted the black hull of a steamer but a few miles ahead.
“We’ve got her!” he cried joyously, then he turned with apprehension and saw the hands of the clock stood at six. “Stop her with a shot!” he pleaded. “We need every minute.”