“I AM SORRY YOU INTERFERED WITH US,” SAID THE MAN. “YOU’LL FIND
BEFORE LONG THAT YOU HAVE DONE WRONG.” Page 57.

The

Blue Grass Seminary Girls

On the Water

OR

Exciting Adventures on a Summer Cruise

Through the Panama Canal

By Carolyn Judson Burnett

AUTHOR OF

“The Blue Grass Seminary Girls’ Vacation Adventures,”

“The Blue Grass Seminary Girls in the Mountains,”

“The Blue Grass Seminary

Girls’ Christmas Holidays.”

A. L. BURT COMPANY

PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK

Copyright, 1916

By A. L. Burt Company

THE BLUE GRASS SEMINARY GIRLS ON THE WATER

THE BLUE GRASS SEMINARY GIRLS ON THE WATER.

CHAPTER I.—PLANNING A TRIP.

“Dad, we want to take a trip.”

The speaker was Shirley Willing, a typical Kentucky girl, slender of figure, vivacious of manner, and extremely pretty. With her father, she stood on the big, sunny front porch of the Willing farmhouse. As she again was about to address her father, a second young girl, who, it could be seen at a glance, was of about Shirley’s years, joined them.

This was Mabel Ashton, Shirley’s particular friend and life chum. Shirley greeted her with a smile, and Mr. Willing’s face also wrinkled pleasantly.

“I was just telling Dad that we want to take a trip this summer,” explained Shirley.

Mabel smiled.

“We have talked it all over,” she agreed, “and we just want to go some place.”

“Where?” asked Mr. Willing briefly.

“Why, we—we—want to go to—to—where is it we want to go, Shirley?” asked Mabel in some confusion.

“We hadn’t decided on that yet, Dad,” laughed Shirley. “But we don’t want to stay here on this old farm all summer.”

“And what are you going to do with both your old Dads—leave them behind?” asked Mr. Willing seriously.

“We would like to have you go with us, Dad, but we know you won’t.”

“Why won’t we?”

“Well, I—we,—I—you never have gone with us.”

“It’s never too late to mend our ways,” declared her father dryly. “Perhaps we shall this time.”

Both girls clapped their hands, and scampered about the porch eagerly. At last Shirley stopped her antics, and standing directly before her father, took him by the coat with both hands.

“Do you mean it, Dad?” she asked.

Mr. Willing nodded.

“Yes. Ashton and I have decided that the next time you two youngsters go away from home we are going with you. When you are by yourselves you get into too much mischief. Now where is it you want to go?”

“We haven’t the slightest idea,” was the reply.

Mr. Willing turned to Mabel.

“You call your father out here and we’ll talk this thing over,” he told her.

Mabel hastened to obey, and while she is searching for her father, we shall take time to introduce Shirley Willing and Mabel Ashton more fully to the reader.

The two girls had been friends ever since they could remember. Born and raised within a few doors of each other in the little town of Paris, Bourbon county, Kentucky, they had been inseparable companions from the time they were able to walk. This friendship was strengthened by the fact that their fathers had been bosom friends before them.

While the girls were still young, Shirley’s mother died, and a short time later Mr. Willing purchased a large farm on the Bethlehem Pike, three miles from town. It was less than a year later that Mabel’s mother passed into the great Beyond, and Mr. Ashton bought a farm adjoining that of his old friend. And here they had lived ever since.

When Shirley reached the age of fourteen, she conceived the idea of going away to school. Mabel announced that she was going with her. The objections of their fathers they soon overcame, and at last found themselves installed as pupils of the Bluegrass Seminary in Lexington. Here, because of their kind-heartedness and their many good deeds, they were soon among the most popular girls of the school.

Being athletically inclined, they were prominent in all branches of girls’ sports. Their chief pleasure was horseback riding, in which art there were few more proficient. In fact, Shirley once had saved her father’s fortune by carrying the Willing colors to victory in the great Kentucky Derby, as related in “The Bluegrass Seminary Girls on Vacation.”

Naturally modest, they nevertheless had been made, soon after their arrival at the seminary, members of the Glee Club, for it was found that both possessed voices of rare excellence. During the second Christmas vacation, with other members of the Glee Club, they had toured the larger eastern cities, and through entertainments had lifted a large debt that threatened the end of the Seminary.

Both girls also possessed great courage, as they had proved on more than one occasion, and they had had many exciting adventures, one of the most important of which was the settling of a mountain feud in which they had faced great danger unflinchingly, as related in “The Bluegrass Seminary Girls on Motorcycles.”

The summer vacation now had just begun. Shirley and Mabel had returned from Lexington two days before this story opens. At the Willing place they found Mr. Ashton, who had been very ill for some years, and had been making his home with his friend while his daughter was away at school.

But now Mr. Ashton was greatly improved, as Mabel found to her great joy. He was gaining daily and recovering lost weight and strength.

Mabel, searching for her father in response to Mr. Willing’s request, found him in the sitting room. She went up to him and took him by the hand.

“Come on Dad,” she said.

Mr. Ashton—“colonel” he was always called by his friends—allowed himself to be pulled toward the door.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“Mr. Willing, Shirley and I want to have a talk with you,” was the reply.

“H-mm-m,” muttered the colonel, “must be something you two want. Have you succeeded in twisting Willing around your fingers?”

“The idea, Dad!” exclaimed Mabel. “You know neither Shirley nor I would think of trying to do a thing like that.”

Colonel Ashton grinned.

“Wouldn’t you?” he asked dryly. “I’m not so sure of that.”

Father and daughter made their way to the front porch, where Shirley and her father were deep in conversation. Colonel Ashton dropped into a chair, and Mabel sat down at his feet.

“Ashton,” said Mr. Willing, “these girls say they want to go some place. What do you think about it?”

Mr. Ashton was silent for some moments. He did not seem to be surprised.

“Where do they want to go?” he asked at length.

“We don’t know, Dad,” said Mabel. “We just want to take a trip.”

“And,” Shirley broke in, “my Dad says you and he might come with us.”

Mr. Ashton looked at his old friend in surprise.

“You say that, Willing?” he demanded.

“Yes, Colonel, I did. Why not, eh? You and I are getting along in years and have earned a vacation. I’m agreeable, if you are.”

“I don’t know but you are right,” was the slow reply. “I guess I am well enough to travel. I’ll go.”

Mabel jumped quickly to her feet, and hugged him. Shirley performed a similar operation on her father.

“Then,” said Mr. Willing, disengaging himself at last, “the only question to be settled is, where shall we go?”

“This is a pretty sizeable country, Willing,” said the colonel, “I guess there are plenty of places to go.”

“I had thought of Atlantic City,” said Mabel.

“And what had you thought of?” demanded Mr. Willing of Shirley.

“Well,” was the reply, “there were two things I wanted to do, and I don’t know which I shall choose.”

“Let’s hear them,” said Mr. Willing.

“You know, Dad, ever since Mabel and I went away with the Glee Club, we have both been anxious to take a trip on one of the big ocean steamers. That is one thing I would like to do.”

“And where would you like to go?”

“Any place. Across the ocean.”

“Well, we won’t do that,” said Colonel Ashton. “This European war makes it too risky. We might be sunk by one of those German submarines.”

“Right, Colonel,” agreed Mr. Willing. He turned again to Shirley, “and the other thing you would like to do?” he questioned.

“I should like to go to the Panama Exposition in San Francisco.”

Mabel jumped to her feet and clapped her hands.

“That’s where I should like to go, too,” she cried. “Why didn’t I think of it before?”

Mr. Willing considered.

“Well,” he said at length, “I don’t know why we can’t do both of those things, Shirley.”

“But the ocean trip, Dad. Where would we go?”

“To San Francisco,” was the reply.

“But, how—”

“You must remember that the Panama Canal is open to traffic, daughter,” explained Mr. Willing. “We can take a steamer from New York direct to San Francisco. Besides, I should like to have a look at the canal, with its great locks and other interesting things. The construction of the canal is considered one of the greatest of all feats of engineering.”

Colonel Ashton nodded his head emphatically.

“I should like to take that trip myself,” he declared.

“Then we shall consider that matter settled,” said Mr. Willing.

“And when can we start, dad?” asked Shirley eagerly.

“Well, we will not be able to leave here for a week or ten days. I have some business affairs that must be put in order before I can get away. Besides, you two girls will want clothes and things, and you can’t get those in a minute.”

“We’ll go to town this afternoon and get some things,” declared Mabel.

“All right,” laughed Mr. Willing, “but just the same it will take you at least a week to get yourselves ready. Then I shall have to make arrangements for our passage, find out when we leave New York and attend to other details. It will take time.”

“But we shall go as soon as possible, Dad?” asked Shirley.

“Yes,” was the reply. “You may make sure of that. We shall go as soon as possible. Hello—who’s that?”

The others gazed in the direction of his pointing finger. Through the pike gate, at that moment, came a solitary horseman.

“I wonder who he is?” exclaimed Shirley.

CHAPTER II.—AN ADDITION TO THE PARTY.

The horseman came closer.

Suddenly Shirley gave an exclamation of delight. She had recognized the visitor even at this distance, which was too great for the others to perceive his identity. Mabel looked at her chum in astonishment.

“Dick!” cried Shirley.

Now Mabel understood, and even Mr. Willing allowed a slight smile to steal across his face.

Shirley ran down the steps from the porch and hurried toward the distant yard gate. The girl and the horseman arrived at about the same time, and those on the porch saw the rider lift his cap and dismount.

Then he led the horse through the gate, closed it behind him and with the bridle in his hand continued his way to the house afoot, Shirley walking by his side.

“Dick!” cried Shirley again, as the rider dismounted at the gate upon sight of her. “What are you doing here? I am glad to see you.”

“I was in Paris on a little business,” replied the young man, “and I thought I wouldn’t go away without paying my respects to you and your father.”

At the house Mr. Willing greeted the young man warmly, for, from previous meetings, he had taken a liking to Dick.

Dick Stanley was a native of Cincinnati, O. He was without parents, and after having met Shirley under exciting circumstances, he had given up a rough set of companions and at length had obtained a place as office boy on one of the big Louisville newspapers. But Dick had not remained an office boy long, and he was now one of the most competent and best liked reporters on the paper.

He had been sent to Paris for a certain piece of news—“on a story,” in his words, the words of the newspaper world—and he had just completed his work successfully. Therefore he had hired a horse and come to the Willing farm for a few words with his friends before going back to Louisville.

“I’m glad to see you, young man,” said Mr. Willing in greeting. “It has been some time since we have had the pleasure of your company.”

“Thank you, sir,” was the reply. “I am always glad to be here.”

He shook hands with Mr. Ashton and Mabel.

Now Shirley proceeded to tell him of the trip they were going to take, and Dick was greatly interested.

“I should like to see the canal,” he said. “I have been reading quite a bit about it, and it is very interesting.”

“You are right, young man,” agreed Mr. Willing.

“It is one of the wonders of the world.” He paused, struck by a sudden idea. Then he said slowly, looking squarely at Dick:

“How would you like to go with us?”

“I’d like it fine,” declared Dick, with a smile. “I wish it could be done.”

“Well, it can be done,” said Mr. Willing quietly.

Dick, as well as Shirley and Mabel, looked at Mr. Willing in surprise.

“Dad!” exclaimed Shirley. “What do you mean?”

“Just what I say,” was the reply. “I am going to take Dick with us.”

Dick shook his head slowly.

“I appreciate your kindness, Mr. Willing,” he said quietly, “but I cannot accept such generosity.”

“Can’t, eh?” blustered Mr. Willing, “and why not, I’d like to know. I am not in the habit of having my invitations refused, sir!”

Again Dick smiled.

“It is very kind of you to ask me,” he said, “but I do not feel that I should accept. Of course, I have the money for the trip, but I do not feel I can afford to spend it. Besides, I could not leave the paper for so long a time.”

“Couldn’t leave the paper!” echoed Mr. Willing.

“I’ll speak a few words to my friend Col. Harperson, the owner, and he will see that you are given an indefinite vacation.”

“No, sir, thank you, I don’t think it can be done.”

“I’ll tell you,” said Mr. Willing, trying a new line, for he had made up his mind to have Dick accompany them, “you will be able to do some writing on the trip. The sights you will see should mean money to you. You should be able to write many interesting articles when you get back.”

Dick apparently was impressed with this line of reasoning. And now Shirley added her voice to the colonel’s.

“Please, come, Dick?” she said.

“Well,” said the young man after hesitating a long while, “I’ll tell you what I’ll do. If I can make arrangements to get off indefinitely, I’ll go.”

Shirley clapped her hands.

“I’m sure you can,” she cried.

And Mr. Willing muttered to himself:

“I’ll fix it with Harperson!”

The discussion of the trip now became general, and Dick was acquainted with the time they expected to depart.

“You will remain here over night, of course,” said Mr. Willing.

“Thank you, sir, I shall be glad to.”

“Then we’ll put off our shopping till to-morrow, Mabel,” said Shirley.

All day the three young people talked eagerly of the coming trip, and Shirley tried to get Dick to promise that he would go, whether he was able to get off or not. But this Dick would not do.

“If they agree to let me off, all right,” was his decision.

They sat up and talked till late that night, but Mr. Willing finally put an end to this conversation.

“Shirley,” he said severely, “are you going to keep that young man talking all night? How do you expect him to catch the early train in the morning?”

“Well, I would have gone any time he told me,” pouted Shirley.

“I don’t suppose he would have told you if you had kept him talking all night,” replied Mr. Willing dryly.

Dick arose and bade the others good night. A few moments later Shirley and Mabel retired to their room, where they lay for a long time before sleep overcame them, so excited were they at the prospect of the great trip.

“I’m glad Dick is going,” said Mabel, “but I don’t suppose I am half as glad as you are.”

“Why not?” demanded Shirley.

“Oh, just because,” replied Mabel, laughing.

“I don’t see anything to laugh at,” declared Shirley.

“You don’t? No, I guess you don’t. Do you know, I’d give a whole lot if some nice boy like Dick would come all this way to see me.”

“He came to see you as well as me,” said Shirley.

“Oh no he didn’t. If I had been the only girl here, Dick would not have been on hand to-day. Besides, if it wasn’t for you I’m sure he wouldn’t even think of taking the trip to San Francisco.”

“But he wants to see something of the Panama Canal.”

“My goodness! you didn’t use to be so dense,” exclaimed Mabel.

“Dense?” repeated Shirley. “What do you mean, Mabel?”

“That’s right, keep it up,” exclaimed Mabel. “I won’t say anything more. Are you going into town to-morrow?”

“Yes, I thought we would go in as soon as Dick had gone.”

“That suits me. We’ll have to get a lot of things.”

“I should say so. Why, I haven’t a single decent thing to wear.”

“We’ll put in a good supply, so we won’t have to buy anything while we are away. My! but won’t it be a nice trip?”

“Won’t it though. I can hardly wait for the time to come.”

“Nor I. But let’s get some sleep or we won’t want to get up in the morning.”

Both closed their eyes and tried to sleep. But they had too much on their minds to go to sleep immediately, and it was long minutes before drowsiness overcame them and they lost themselves, only to dream that they were sailing across the ocean.

The following morning they accompanied Dick to Wright’s station, where he took a train for Lexington. There he would have to change for Louisville.

“Let us know as soon as possible?” called Shirley, as he climbed aboard.

“I will,” replied Dick. “I’ll write immediately I have learned one thing or the other.”

The train moved away.

Shirley and Mabel returned to the house, where Mr. Willing was waiting for them with the automobile.

“Ashton and I have decided to do a little shopping on our own hook,” he explained. “We want to spruce up a bit. Daughter, do you suppose there will be any nice-looking, middle-aged ladies aboard the boat? If so, why Ashton and I—”

“Dad!” interrupted Shirley.

“Well, all right. Of course if you object,” said Mr. Willing.

All the rest of the day the girls put in shopping. Dresses and frocks for all occasions they bought, besides a couple of outing costumes.

“I don’t know how long it takes to get to San Francisco from New York,” said Shirley, “so we had best be prepared.”

But when the day was over they found they had not completed their shopping, and would have to return again on the morrow.

Mr. Willing, during the day, transacted his business and found out the date of sailing from New York. Taking it for granted that Dick would accompany them, he purchased a ticket and made accommodations for him as well as the others.

“How long shall we be gone, Dad?” asked Shirley, as the automobile sped homeward.

“Well, let’s see. This is the fourth of June. We shall leave New York on the fifteenth. I should say we would be back by the middle of August.”

“And will we come back the same way?”

“No; we’ll come back by rail. One way by boat will be enough. You’ll have seen plenty of water by the time you reach San Francisco.”

“I hope Dick decides to go with us,” said Shirley.

“And so do I,” declared Mabel.

“Oh, he’ll go, all right,” remarked Mr. Willing.

And the latter was right. Three days later Shirley stood before her father with an open letter in her hand.

“It’s from Dick,” she explained. “He says he is going with us.”

Mr. Willing chuckled.

“I see Harperson is still a friend of mine,” he muttered to himself.

CHAPTER III.—OFF FOR NEW YORK.

It was the morning of the twelfth of June that the party of five went early to Paris to catch the eight o’clock train for Cincinnati. Dick had arrived the night before, and in spite of the fact that they would have to be up very early in the morning, all sat up talking, for the young people were too excited to go to sleep.

All through the long hours of the night the girls tossed about, scarcely closing their eyes. They were up with the break of day, which was soon after four o’clock.

At last the time for departure came, and they jumped gaily into the large automobile which was to take them to town.

“What time shall we leave Cincinnati, sir?” Dick asked of Mr. Willing, as the train pulled out from the station.

“Twelve o’clock,” was the reply. “We’ll get there a little after eleven, which will give us time to get across town to the Pennsylvania station. I have made reservations on the New York train.”

Nevertheless it lacked only twenty minutes of the noon hour when the train pulled into Cincinnati.

“Hurry girls,” ordered Mr. Willing. “We have no time to lose. We can just about make it.”

They dashed through the station and out the Third street entrance, where Mr. Willing immediately engaged two taxicabs.

“Pennsylvania Station!” he ordered, and they were off at a good gait.

Through the narrow streets congested with traffic they were forced to go more slowly, and Mr. Willing looked at his watch impatiently from time to time.

“Seven minutes!” he said, and they were still some distance from their destination, and then the first cab stopped to let a car pass in front of it.

“Hurry!” commanded Mr. Willing of his driver. “We haven’t got all day to get there. Let the street cars do the waiting after this.”

The chauffeur nodded and the cab leaped forward, scattering pedestrians right and left, darting in and out among other vehicles, avoiding a collision as though by a miracle. The second cab came close behind.

At last the station was reached and all dismounted hurriedly. With Mr. Willing in the lead they ran through the station to the train shed. Here the conductor had just called “All aboard!”

Mr. Willing heard him, and urged the others on faster. They passed through the gate, Mr. Willing assisted the girls and Colonel Ashton up the steps, then climbed up himself. And as he did so, Shirley, who had turned to look at him, cried:

“Where’s Dick?”

Mr. Willing looked around, then stood nonplussed. Dick was not here. The train began to move.

There came a shout from behind and a young man came dashing after the train. Shirley cried out in alarm. It was Dick.

The train had gathered headway now and was slipping along beneath the shed more rapidly. Dick sprinted, gained, clutched the handrail of the car and swung himself aboard just as the train gathered even greater speed.

He climbed to the platform, wiped the moisture from his brow, fanned himself vigorously and then smiled.

“Close call, that,” he exclaimed.

“Young man,” said Mr. Willing dryly, “hereafter let there be no loitering behind. You gave me a scare and I don’t care for any more of the same.”

“Daddy!” exclaimed Shirley. “I am sure Dick didn’t do it intentionally.”

“No, sir,” agreed Dick. “As I followed after you I bumped into a lady and knocked her suitcase from her hand. It came open and the contents scattered about. For a moment I forgot all about the train and stopped to help her pick them up. Then I happened to remember we were late, and ran after you.”

“Your gallantry is bound to get you in trouble if you are not careful,” commented Mr. Willing.

They went inside.

Mr. Willing had engaged the two drawing rooms, one at either end of the car. Dick and the two older men were to occupy one and the two girls the other.

It was almost eight o’clock when the train pulled into Pittsburgh. They had just finished dinner, so Dick stepped off to look about for a few moments.

As he stood beside the steps of the Pullman, another man, probably several years his senior, approached and engaged him in conversation. He was an agreeable sort of a chap. He spoke English with the faintest of accents, however, and this Dick was not slow to notice.

It appeared that the man had a berth on the same car, and they climbed aboard together. In the smoking compartment was Mr. Willing, to whom Dick introduced the newcomer. Mr. Ashton came in a few moments later, and all sat talking.

The stranger, who introduced himself as Henry Bristow, made himself very agreeable and Mr. Willing took an instant liking to him.

During the course of the conversation, Dick chanced to mention that they would sail from New York for San Francisco on the fifteenth.

“On what ship?” demanded Bristow eagerly.

“Yucatan,” was the reply.

“Is that so?” exclaimed the other. “I shall sail on the same vessel.”

“For San Francisco?” asked Dick in surprise.

“That all depends,” was the answer. “I shall only take passage as far as Colon. Whether I shall go further depends upon my—upon circumstances.”

“We shall be glad to have you as a fellow passenger,” declared Mr. Willing. “As you are going to be such, you must meet my daughter, and the daughter of the colonel here.”

“I shall be pleased,” was the reply.

He accompanied the others to the drawing room, where introductions followed.

Young Bristow conversed fluently upon many topics and the others were delighted with him. From his remarks it was gathered that he had traveled considerably.

He spoke familiarly of New York, Chicago, San Francisco, and apparently had a personal knowledge of London, Paris, Berlin and other European cities. He was equally as well acquainted with the larger southern cities.

The two girls were eager listeners to the tales of his travels, and even Mr. Willing and Colonel Ashton gave an attentive ear to these stories.

“And where do you live?” asked Mr. Willing suddenly. “What did you say your business is?”

The young man’s face suddenly turned red.

“My home is in New York,” he replied quietly, “and as for my business, I fear that must remain a secret for the present.”

“Daddy, you shouldn’t be so inquisitive,” said Shirley with a smile.

“I’m sure I’m sorry,” apologized her father. “I didn’t mean—”

“Say no more about it,” replied the young man with a pleasant smile. “For certain reasons, I am not now able to reveal the nature of my business.”

Dick had been thinking rapidly. Suspicions had entered his head, and he could not shake them off. And still he knew that they would sound foolish to another.

“I’ll keep them to myself,” he said, “but I’ll keep an eye open.”

The train was just pulling into North Philadelphia when Shirley and Mabel opened their eyes the next morning. Mabel glanced at her watch.

“Seven o’clock,” she exclaimed. “We’ll have to hurry, Shirley. You know these fast trains don’t take long to reach New York from here. Besides, we want to get breakfast on the train.”

They dressed as rapidly as possible, and emerged from their drawing room just in time to see young Bristow stride down the aisle.

He gave them a cheery “good morning” and turned as Mr. Willing came up.

“I hope you will join us at breakfast, sir,” said Mr. Willing.

The young man accepted, and as Dick and Colonel Ashton appeared at this moment, all made their way to the diner together.

“Where shall you stay in New York, sir?” asked Bristow of Mr. Willing.

“At the McAlpin,” was the reply. “We shall spend the two days looking about the city, going aboard the Yucatan a couple of hours before time for her departure.”

Bristow turned to Dick.

“I shall look you up either this afternoon or to-morrow, and we’ll take a stroll,” he said.

“I’ll be glad to walk with you,” Dick replied.

Breakfast over, they returned to the Pullman, where they began to get their things together, for they were close to New York.

Half an hour later the train plunged into the tunnel under the Hudson river. Mr. Willing, who had been to New York before, explained how the tunnel had been constructed and gave other interesting information.

“You wouldn’t think we were in a tunnel,” exclaimed Shirley. “There is no smoke.”

“Electric engine,” replied Mr. Willing.

“And we go right under the river?”

“Yes.”

“My goodness!” exclaimed Mabel. “Just to think that there is a river running right over the top of us. Suppose it would come through.”

Mr. Willing smiled.

“It won’t,” he said quietly.

And now the porter came for their baggage, and carried it to the vestibule. The conductor poked his head in the door and called out:

“New York!”

“Here we are,” exclaimed Shirley eagerly. “The city I have always wanted to see. The greatest city in the world!”

CHAPTER IV.—DICK HAS AN ADVENTURE.

The two days spent in New York City were days of wonder to Shirley, Mabel and Dick. They were on the go every minute of the time, sightseeing. From one end of the city to the other they travelled with wide-open eyes.

The great skyscrapers impressed them, perhaps, more than any one other thing, though they saw much to amaze them; and next to the great buildings they were impressed by the crowds.

Crowds they had seen in some of the other large cities, but never anything like this.

They took a trip to Coney Island on the second day, and the girls were for going back again that night. Mr. Willing agreed, and they were about to fare forth from the hotel, when young Bristow was announced.

“I’ve come to take you for that promised stroll,” he told Dick.

Dick looked at the others inquiringly.

“You go with him,” nodded Colonel Ashton, “the rest of us can get along without you for one evening.”

“If I’m breaking up a party—” began Bristow.

“Never mind,” said the colonel with a wave of his hand. “You two young fellows run along. We don’t need you.”

“All right, sir,” agreed Dick.

Personally he was glad to have a chance to look about the town a little with one of his own age. The others took their departure, and soon Bristow and Dick also left the hotel.

“I would have looked you up sooner but I have been terribly busy,” explained Bristow. “I have had important matters to attend to, and this is the first time I have been at liberty. Where would you like to go?”

“Any place you say,” said Dick with a smile. “You know more about this place than I do.”

“I guess you’re right,” was the smiling response, “we’ll wander up Broadway aways and watch the theater crowds.”

They did so, and continued to stroll about for an hour.

Gradually the crowd thinned out, although there were many pedestrians on the street. As they stood for a moment in front of the Herald building on Herald square, Dick, chancing to turn suddenly, became conscious of a pair of eyes looking steadily at his companion. He called the other’s attention to it, and as the latter glanced about the man turned and moved off.

Dick thought no more of the matter until several blocks further along he perceived the same figure slinking furtively after them.

“That man is following us,” he said to Bristow.

The face of the latter grew hard.

“We’ll see,” he said.

At that moment they were passing Forty-second Street, and Bristow swung sharply around the corner. Dick followed him. They walked several blocks, until they stood beneath the tracks of the Sixth Avenue elevated. Here Bristow again turned sharply, and drew up in a doorway. He stopped as Dick came up beside him.

A moment later the figure of the man Dick believed was following them came around the corner. The man’s hat was pulled over his eyes, and he did not glance up as he passed the doorway. Bristow and Dick turned and doubled back around the corner.

“He was after us, all right,” said Bristow with a laugh, “but I guess we have given him the slip.”

But in this he was mistaken.

“I wonder what on earth we are being followed for?” muttered Dick to himself, as they turned down Broadway. “Something queer about this fellow Bristow. That man is not following us for nothing.”

Several hours later they stopped in a little restaurant for a bite to eat, “after which I’ll take you home,” said Bristow.

The restaurant was crowded, and a little while later the waiter seated another man at their table. Dick gave him a quick glance and then stifled an exclamation of surprise.

The newcomer was the same man who had followed them so recently.

Dick leaned over and whispered to Bristow.

“So?” said Bristow. “We’ll see what he wants.”

He looked the man squarely in the eyes and demanded:

“What are you following me for?”

The man looked at him and smiled pleasantly.

“I just want to keep you in sight,” he replied.

“Why?”

“You know, I guess. You don’t want me to speak right out, do you?”

“Well, no,” replied Bristow, “but I’ll thank you to follow me no longer.”

“Sorry,” was the reply, “but I am afraid I shall have to.”

“I warn you,” said Bristow quietly, “to let me alone. Is that plain enough?”

“Perfectly plain,” was the reply. “I’m sorry I can’t accommodate you.”

He resumed his eating.

Dick and Bristow finished their meal first and rose to go. The other man waited until they were at the door, then picked up his check and followed them. And so when they passed out, he was right behind them once more.

“I don’t like this idea of being followed,” said Dick. “What’s he want, anyhow?”

“We’ll get rid of him,” replied Bristow, absolutely ignoring Dick’s second question.

He turned down a side street, and they walked for three or four blocks, at length coming to a rather darker street. Here Bristow slipped around the corner and motioned Dick to silence.

The footsteps of their pursuer came to their ears. He drew nearer. Bristow advanced close to the edge of the building.

“What are you going to do?” asked Dick.

“You’ll see,” was the brief response.

As the man came into view, Bristow suddenly struck out with his right fist, and the man toppled over.

Bristow turned to Dick.

“Come!” he said quietly.

With one look at the fallen man Dick obeyed, and they were soon beyond pursuit.

Dick had been taken by surprise by the suddenness of Bristow’s attack. Try as he would he could see no reason for it. He, as well as Bristow, objected to being followed, but Dick would not have taken such measures to elude his pursuer.

He followed his companion without a word, however, and soon they were back at the hotel.

The others had not returned, but Bristow sat down, announcing that he had something important to say to Mr. Willing when the latter did get back.

Half an hour later, Colonel Ashton, Mr. Willing and the two girls came in.

“Well, I see you beat us,” exclaimed Mr. Willing. “Have a good time?”

“Yes, sir,” replied Dick.

“Mr. Willing,” said Bristow, “I have something of importance to say to you.”

“All right, sir,” came the answer, “out with it.”

“Will you all promise to repeat nothing of what I may say?”

“Why all this air of secrecy?” demanded Mr. Willing.

“That I cannot tell you, sir.”

“Of course we’ll promise, Mr. Bristow,” declared Shirley. “Surely, Dad, there is no reason why we should tell any one anything.”

Mr. Willing nodded.

“I will promise for myself and the others,” he said.

“Very well, sir. What I would say is this: Take my advice, and under no circumstances sail on the Yucatan to-morrow!”

Mr. Willing gazed at the young man in perfect amazement, as did the others in the room. Mr. Willing was the first to regain his composure.

“Why?” he asked quietly.

“I can’t go into explanations,” replied the young man hurriedly; “all I can do is warn you that it is not safe.”

“And why isn’t it safe?” asked Shirley, now taking a hand in the conversation.

“That I cannot tell you, either. But you all know that a state of war exists between the countries of Europe.”

“What has that to do with us?” asked Shirley.

“You are asking me hard questions,” said Bristow, “and I cannot answer as I would like to. Let it be enough that there is danger because of it. And if there should even be no danger aboard the Yucatan, it will exist in Colon.”

“In Colon?”

“Yes. One week from to-day Colon will no longer be safe!”

“It is my belief you are out of your head, young man,” declared Mr. Willing grimly.

Bristow shook his head positively.

“I am telling you facts,” he declared. “I can’t say any more.”

“And why won’t we be safe aboard the Yucatan?” demanded Shirley. “The ship isn’t going to sink, is it?”

“No, but—”

“No European country will dare to molest it,” declared Dick, “and I can see no reason why there should be danger at Colon.”

“I was afraid I couldn’t convince you,” said Bristow. “However, I have done my best. Good night.”

He bowed and left the room.

“What do you suppose he is talking about, Dad?” asked Shirley.

“I don’t know,” was the reply, “and I don’t care.”

“All buncombe,” agreed Colonel Ashton.

“Well, I don’t care what it is,” exclaimed Shirley. “We have set our hearts on this trip, and we are going to take it. That’s all there is about that.”

“Good for you, Shirley,” agreed Mabel.

Dick Stanley was the only member of the party who did not speak. He sat quietly in his chair, thinking.

CHAPTER V.—ABOARD THE YUCATAN.

The Yucatan, upon leaving New York, did not head straight for Colon. Her route took her down the coast, where she would make several stops. The first would be at Savannah, then Jacksonville, and the third, and last before touching at Colon, would be Havana, Cuba.

Mr. Willing had selected this vessel for the simple reason that it did put in at these southern ports, for he wished to give the girls an opportunity of seeing as much as possible on the journey. After rounding into the Pacific, following her passage of the Panama Canal, the vessel was scheduled to put in at the seaports of several of the Central American republics and one or two Mexican ports.

Mr. Willing, Colonel Ashton, Dick and the two girls stood forward on the gallery deck of the great ship as she got under way and slowly backed out of her slip into the North River.

It was early afternoon, the sun shone brightly and it was very warm. All day the city had sweltered beneath the terrible heat, but as the ship gradually gathered headway a breeze sprang up and blew refreshingly across the deck.

“This is something like it,” declared Mr. Willing, removing his yachting cap and passing his handkerchief over his forehead.

The awnings were stretched, and all took the steamer chairs they had secured. These they pulled close to the rail, and then gazed off across the water.

Directly the Statue of Liberty came into view. The girls gazed at it curiously as they passed and headed for the open sea.

Gradually the lofty spires of the great buildings faded from view, and then the Statue of Liberty disappeared. To starboard could be seen the distant shore of New Jersey, and to port nothing but the broad expanse of the Atlantic.

Darkness descended and with it a cooler breeze.

“Time to eat,” said Mr. Willing.

They made their way to the dining room below, where they were seated at the captain’s table. The supper was excellent, far beyond Shirley’s expectations. The meal over they returned on deck.

Mr. Willing had secured a suite of four rooms well forward on the promenade deck, and after enjoying the cooling breeze for some time, all made their way there.

The strains of a band now floated to them from the main salon. They made their way out. Then the three young people started on a tour of the ship. They took in everything with breathless interest.

“This is indeed a floating palace,” commented Shirley.

“Isn’t it though,” agreed Mabel.

Dick was no less enthusiastic in his praise.

After a stroll about they rejoined the two elder men in the salon. Then it was that Shirley bethought herself of the fact that young Bristow had said he would be aboard.

“I haven’t seen anything of him,” she said.

Neither had the others.

“Perhaps he missed the boat,” said Mabel.

“I’ll have a look at the passenger list,” said Dick.

He did so, and there he saw “Henry Bristow, New York,” and the number of his stateroom. He went up and knocked on the door.

“Come in,” called a voice.

Dick entered the room, then started back in surprise.

Bristow lay propped up in bed, reading. Around his head was a white bandage. Dick hastened to his side.

“Why, what is the matter?” he exclaimed.

“Accident,” replied Bristow, with a slight smile, and volunteered no further information.

Dick did not press him for an explanation. After some little talk, in the course of which Bristow said he did not require anything and announced that he would be perfectly fit on the morrow, Dick took his leave and rejoined the others.

“And how was he hurt?” asked Mr. Willing, after Dick had reported what he had learned.

“He didn’t say and I didn’t ask him,” he replied. “But I am sure there is something strange about it, sir.”

“I am beginning to think that myself,” agreed Colonel Ashton. “He’s a queer one. Now, I wonder why he warned us not to sail on this ship?”

“It’s too deep for me,” declared Dick.

“I have it,” exclaimed Shirley suddenly. “Perhaps he is an agent of one of the foreign countries, England or Germany.”

Dick looked at the girl in unfeigned surprise.

“What makes you think that?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I don’t really believe it; I just happened to think of it. Wouldn’t it be fun if he was?”

“Well, that all depends,” replied Dick. “It depends on what his business aboard would be.”

“But what could it be in such a case?” questioned Mabel.

“Well, it might be lots of things. But I don’t put any stock in such an explanation.”

“Nor I,” declared Mr. Willing. “It’s my belief the young man is in trouble of some kind, and I’d like to help him out if I could. I like him.”

“And so do I,” agreed Mabel.

“To tell the truth, I don’t know whether I do or not,” said Dick slowly. “He’s agreeable, and all that; but there is something very peculiar about him. I am sure there is something wrong.”

“If I get a good chance, I shall ask him,” declared Mabel.

“You’ll have about the same luck Dad did when he asked him his business,” retorted Shirley, “and that wasn’t much.”

“Take my advice, all of you, and let him alone,” remarked Colonel Ashton.

“That is good advice, Ashton,” declared Mr. Willing. “But come, it’s bedtime and we shall want to be about early in the morning to enjoy some of this ocean breeze.”

An hour later all were asleep.

Had they been about they would have seen a strange sight.

On the upper deck aft, as the ship’s bell chimed midnight, three men sat in deep conversation. Two of them were strangers, but the third Shirley or any of her party would immediately have recognized as Henry Bristow.

And there would also have been something else noticeable. The bandage had been removed from his head, nor was there wound nor swelling to show why it should have been tied up in the first place.

The three men talked for perhaps fifteen minutes in low whispers and then parted, going their several ways.

As he had promised, Bristow was about the ship the following morning, but his head was once more bandaged. Mabel, true to her words of the night before, seized the first opportunity and asked him how he had been injured.

“That,” was the quiet reply, “I cannot say.”

Mabel was highly indignant, and took herself off, leaving the young man smiling after her. Then he shrugged his shoulders and walked away.

All morning the sun shone warm and bright, though it was not too hot for comfort. It was shortly after noon when the passengers were treated to an interesting sight.

Some distance to port came the smoke of another ship, and as it drew nearer an air of subdued excitement became apparent on the Yucatan.

“Armed cruiser off the port bow, sir!” came the hail from the lookout.

All rushed toward the rail, and stood looking at the large ship of war, as she bore down toward them. There was no flag at her masthead, and so the passengers were unable to determine her nationality.

“What can she be?” exclaimed Shirley.

“British, I suppose,” was Dick’s answer. “She’ll show her colors presently, I guess.”

Dick was right. Five minutes later the British ensign was run up the masthead and fluttered in the breeze.

A great cheer broke from most of the passengers aboard the Yucatan. Shirley and Mabel joined in it.

At that moment Dick caught sight of the face of Bristow, who stood near. His lips were compressed, and he scowled fiercely.

“He’s no Englishman, that’s sure,” muttered the young man to himself.

Suddenly, from across the water, came the sound of a big gun, and a solid shot struck the water dead ahead of the Yucatan.

Immediately her engines were stopped, and the passenger steamer came to a stop.

Instantly wild alarm spread over the ship.

“We’ve been fired on,” cried Shirley. “Will they sink us?”

Dick smiled.

“Oh, I guess not,” he replied. “That’s just a signal to heave-to and give an account of ourselves.”

“But what business have they stopping an American ship?” exclaimed Shirley.

“It is permissible under the laws of war,” explained Dick. “You see, the Yucatan might be an enemy flying the American flag. As soon as they find out we are all right, they will allow us to proceed.”

“And would we have to stop just the same for a German?”

“Of course.”

“I wouldn’t like that,” declared Shirley. “I don’t mind the English. My grandmother was English, you know.”

“Well, I guess my sympathies are a little that way, too,” agreed Dick.

The wireless now began to sputter as messages were exchanged between the Yucatan and the British cruiser. The latter had approached close enough to make out the Yucatan, and now signalled her to proceed on her course.

As the big ship of war turned and made off, a second ovation was given her by the passengers. Men waved their hats and women their handkerchiefs.

Suddenly Shirley seized Dick by the arm, and pointed, whispering:

“Look at that!”

Far aft, Henry Bristow gazed across the water at the British cruiser, and Shirley had perceived that there was hate in his eyes. Even as Dick looked in the direction Shirley pointed, Bristow raised a fist and shook it fiercely at the receding war vessel, while strange words issued from between his lips.

CHAPTER VI.—SHIRLEY LENDS AID.

“Look, Mabel, did you see that woman steal that bolt of silk?”

It was Shirley who spoke. They stood among the crowd that thronged the largest department store in Savannah, Ga. The Yucatan had put into Savannah early that morning, and learning that the vessel would not get under way again until late in the afternoon, Shirley and Mabel had gone uptown to purchase a few souvenirs of the Georgia city.

It was just after entering the store that Shirley’s attention was attracted by the peculiar actions of a young woman who darted somewhat furtively from one counter to another. While the attention of the clerks was given to customers, Shirley had seen the woman slip a bolt of expensive silk from the counter and hide it under a long flowing cape, which she wore in spite of the heat.

Mabel shook her head negatively in response to Shirley’s question.

“Which one?” she asked.

Shirley pointed to the figure of the woman who was now gazing at a pretty array of expensive laces. Both girls watched her carefully; and directly, as the crowd about her became more dense, they saw her hand go stealthily forth and take several small bolts of the high-priced material.

“Well what do you think of that?” demanded Mabel. “I have heard of such things, but I never expected to see it. What shall we do?”

“Nothing,” replied Shirley decidedly. “It’s none of our business.”

“But won’t the poor clerks have to make good the loss?”

“I don’t know about that. But if we get mixed up in it we are likely to gain too much notoriety. Let’s move away from here.”

They pushed their way through the crowd when Shirley came suddenly into violent contact with a figure hurrying from the opposite direction. The latter drew back and lifted his cap.

“Miss Willing,” he said. “I beg your pardon. I didn’t look where I was going.”

Shirley glanced up in surprise at hearing her name spoken. Then she recognized the figure with whom she had collided.

“Why, Mr. Bristow,” she said. “I thought I left you aboard the Yucatan?”

“I came ashore to do a little shopping, as you young ladies call it,” replied Bristow with a laugh. “I shall have to hurry on.”

He lifted his cap and was gone.

The two girls continued to stroll about through the store, eyeing the bargains appreciatively.

“Well, I guess we have seen enough,” said Mabel finally. “We may as well return to the ship.”

As they started toward the door they became aware of the sounds of confusion behind them. For a moment they hesitated, then their curiosity overcame them and they turned back.

Far down the aisle a large crowd had gathered. The girls could hear the loud tones of one of the floor walkers calling for the store detective. Shirley and Mabel elbowed their way through the crowd, and presently were able to see what was going on.

Shirley uttered an exclamation of amazement and clutched Mabel by the arm.

“Look at that!” she cried in a low voice.

And well might she have been amazed. For there, in the center of the crowd, his arm grasped tightly by the big floor walker, was Henry Bristow.

His face was red and he was plainly very angry. However, he was making no effort to release himself. He controlled himself with an effort and spoke.

“I tell you you are making a mistake,” he said quietly, and his voice carried to the two girls.

“Is that so?” sneered the floor walker. “So you deny you are a shop-lifter, eh? Well, I didn’t suppose you would admit it. How do you account for the possession of this valuable piece of lace the clerk saw you getting away with?”

“It must have caught on my coat,” was the reply. “I didn’t try to steal it.”

“You didn’t, eh? We’ll see as soon as the house detective arrives. I reckon you have plenty of stuff stowed away in your pockets.”

“Well, I haven’t,” declared Bristow angrily. “You’re going to be sorry for this before you get through.”

“Well what do you think of that?” demanded Mabel, who had stood with open mouth during this conversation.

“I think that he is innocent,” declared Shirley.

She glanced quickly around the store, and as she did so her eyes fell upon the woman she had so recently seen appropriating articles from the counter.

“There goes the woman who did it,” she declared, pointing.

Mabel looked and nodded her head.

The woman was coming directly toward them, pushing her way through the crowd vigorously. Shirley stepped forward and barred her progress.

At the same moment Shirley raised her voice and called out:

“That man is innocent, Mr. Floorwalker. Here is the shop-lifter.”

The woman again tried to push by Shirley, but the latter maneuvered so as to be directly in front of her at every step.

Shirley’s words caused a commotion. Willing hands darted out and seized the woman, and she was taken before the man who still grasped young Bristow by the arm.

Shirley and Mabel pushed their way forward.

“I saw this woman steal a bolt of silk and some laces,” declared Shirley. “I would have said nothing about it had not Mr. Bristow, whom I know, been accused.”

“It isn’t true!” cried the woman. “The girl is in the plot with the man.”

Shirley’s face grew red.

“I am not!” she declared. “This woman is guilty. She put the things under that long cape.”

The floor walker was plainly mystified. He glanced from one to the other.

“Well, it will do no harm to have a look,” he declared. He turned to the woman. “Will you remove your cape, madam?”

The woman drew back, and pulled the garment closer about her.

“No, I won’t!” she declared, “I—”

“Very well,” said the floor walker. “I shall have the floor matron search you.”

He turned and called to one of the clerks. But the woman waited for no more. With a single move she took off her cape, and threw it to the floor.

“There,” she said, throwing out her arms, “you may see that I have nothing.”

“I saw her take them,” declared Shirley, looking at the woman in surprise, for she could not see a sign of a stolen article.

A frown gathered on the floor walker’s face as he glanced at Shirley.

“This looks rather bad for you.” he said to her pointedly.

Shirley took a step back.

“What do you mean?” she asked in no little alarm.

“It seems that the lady is telling the truth. What was your object in accusing her?”

“I tell you I saw her take them,” declared Shirley again.

The floor walker shrugged his shoulders.

It was Mabel who finally cleared up the situation. The woman’s cape still lay on the floor where she had thrown it. Mabel stooped down to pick it up, and as she did so the woman also snatched at it.

But Mabel was the quicker of the two and captured the garment. Quickly she turned it wrong side out, and as she did so there was a gasp from the crowd.

For the inside of the coat was literally filled with secret pockets. Mabel thrust her hand in and pulled out the bolt of silk. She held it above her head.

“Here it is!” she cried.

“I bought and paid for that,” sputtered the angry woman.

One after another Mabel now produced other articles of value, which she exposed to the view of the crowd. And in each case the woman’s explanation was the same:

“I paid for that!”

But the floor walker was not to be fooled, nor was the manager of the store, who came up at that moment. The former released his hold on young Bristow and made him an abject apology.

One of the women detectives was called, and the shop-lifter turned over to her. Then the manager addressed Shirley and Mabel.

“I owe you two young ladies a debt of gratitude,” he said. “This shop-lifting has been going on for a month or more and we have lost heavily. Thanks to you I believe we have the culprit at last. Without your assistance she would have escaped.”

Shirley and Mabel acknowledged this praise with slight inclinations of the heads, and then Shirley spoke to Young Bristow, who stood near.

“Are you going back to the boat, Mr. Bristow? We shall be glad of your company.”

The young man accepted this invitation, and the three made their way from the store.

“I can’t thank you enough, either of you,” he declared as they walked along. “I was in a ticklish position, and but for your assistance might have been put to no end of trouble.”

“How did you happen to be accused?” asked Shirley.

“Why, I was walking through the aisle, and because of the crowd I was shoved against the counter. A piece of lace caught on a button of my coat, and I dragged it with me as I went by. Then the girl behind the counter cried out that some one had stolen something. The floor walker saw the lace caught in my coat and collared me. That’s all.”

“I see,” said Shirley, and added with a smile: “You certainly did look funny there!”

“Did I? Well, I didn’t feel very funny. I was afraid I would be held long enough to make me miss the ship, and I can’t afford to do that.”

“Then your business in Colon is very important?” asked Mabel.

Young Bristow looked at her in silence for some moments, and Mabel grew red as she thought she was to be rebuffed again. But she wasn’t. Bristow finally answered her question.

“Very important,” he said quietly.

CHAPTER VII.—MABEL SHOWS HER COURAGE.

“By the way,” said Shirley as they walked along, “how is your wound? I see you have removed the bandage.”

A startled expression flitted across the young man’s face, but neither girl perceived it.

“It’s much better,” he made answer. “Not even a scar left. It didn’t amount to much, after all.”

Fifteen minutes later they were back aboard the Yucatan, where Shirley related their experiences to others of their party.

“I’ll have to keep a closer watch on you two,” declared Mr. Willing. “Every time you get away by yourselves you run into trouble. And you won’t always come out of it so easily.”

Several hours later the big steamship moved majestically out of the harbor and soon was headed down the coast once more. She came to anchor again the following morning at Jacksonville, the last American port at which she would touch until she reached San Diego, California. The Willing party went ashore again, but this time, true to his word, Mr. Willing would not permit the girls to wander away by themselves.

As they strolled about, Shirley became suddenly ill. She knew it was nothing serious, brought on probably by the excessive heat. Therefore she informed the others that she was going back aboard the ship, as she wished to lie down. Mabel agreed to go with her.

The fathers saw the two girls into a taxicab, which soon dropped them at the pier, where they immediately went to their suite.

Shirley felt much better now that she was out of the sun, and lying down on the sofa picked up a book and commenced to read. Mabel sat down at a little desk to write a letter.

In spite of the cooling breeze made by the electric fan in the room, it was still rather warm, and Mabel left the outer door open to get what breeze they could from over the water. Mabel was in the first room, and Shirley in the one beyond.

Suddenly Mabel heard footsteps running down the deck toward their suite. She glanced up idly, wondering why any one should put himself to so much exertion on such a hot day, and even as she looked up a figure darted into the room and closed the door behind him.

Mabel jumped quickly to her feet and faced the newcomer, who, she now perceived, held a revolver in his hand.

Mabel was not frightened by the sight of the weapon, for she was not unacquainted with the use of firearms and had faced more than one dangerous situation; but as the man turned and faced her, she uttered a cry of amazement.

The man was Henry Bristow.

Bristow, who had not perceived that the room was occupied, turned at the sound of Mabel’s voice, his revolver half raised. At sight of Mabel he dropped his arm, and removed his cap.

“Please pardon me for this intrusion,” he said quietly. “I did not know the cabin was occupied nor whose it was. I just happened to see the door open, and I slipped in.”

“What is the matter?” asked Mabel, who realized that something must be wrong.

“Oh, nothing,” was the reply.

Before Mabel could utter another word, there was a loud knock on the closed door.

Shirley, in response to the knock, came in from the next room. She took in the situation at a glance, but did not betray her surprise by so much as an exclamation. She advanced quickly toward Mabel and young Bristow.

“What is wrong?” she asked in a low voice.

Bristow waved his revolver toward the door.

“They want me,” he said. “I can’t allow you girls to be drawn into this, so I shall go out.”

A dark expression passed over his face, and his hand tightened on the revolver. Shirley became alarmed.

She motioned him to the room beyond.

“You go in there,” she said. “No one will bother you.”

For a moment Bristow hesitated, then he bowed and passed in. As he went by her, Mabel reached out and relieved him of his revolver. Bristow started to protest, then changed his mind and said nothing.

Mabel motioned to Shirley.

“You go in too,” she said. “I’ll stay here.”

Shirley obeyed without a word. Then Mabel walked to the little center table, and put the revolver in the drawer.

Came another sharp knock on the door. Mabel advanced and threw it open.

Three men stood in the doorway, and all removed their hats at sight of her.

“What is it?” demanded Mabel.

“We are searching for a man named Von Blusen, who is aboard this ship. We trailed him down the deck here, and he disappeared. Have you seen him?”

“I know no one by that name,” returned Mabel.

“He’s a young fellow,” went on the spokesman of the three, “and a very smooth-spoken chap. All the other cabins are locked but this one. I happen to know that this door was open a few minutes ago. I thought he might possibly have come in here?”

He looked at Mabel inquiringly.

“I know no one by that name,” declared the girl again.

“Perhaps you know him by some other name, then?”

Mabel did not reply.

The man became suspicious.

“I am afraid we shall have to search this cabin, miss,” he said. “I am not convinced he is not in here.”

“What is it you want with this man?” asked Mabel, her curiosity getting the better of her.

“Well, I don’t mind telling you. Von Blusen is a German and I have been tipped off that he is up to some mischief, I don’t know just what. My orders are to take him ashore and turn him over to the U. S. authorities.”

“And who are you?” demanded Mabel.

“Me? Why, I’m a United States special officer.”

He threw back his coat and exposed a badge, which he covered hurriedly. Mabel, therefore, did not see it clearly. Something seemed to tell her, however, that the man was not telling the truth.

She stepped back quickly to the little center table, and as the first man advanced after her, she quickly opened the drawer and produced Bristow’s revolver, which she levelled at the three men.

“You can’t come in here,” she said quietly.

The foremost man drew back, as did the others.

“But, miss,” said the spokesman, “we must search the cabin. I am sure Von Blusen came in here. Will you deny it?”

“I don’t have to deny it,” declared Mabel angrily. “If you are United States officers, as you claim, you will have some means of identification.”

“I showed you my badge,” said the man.

“Yes, and you were careful that I didn’t get a good look at it.”

“But we must make the search.”

“Then you must have an order. I know that much. I know you have to have a piece of paper, or something—a warrant I believe it is called.”

“I haven’t any warrant now,” was the reply, “but I am going to make the search just the same.”

He stepped forward, but Mabel covered him with her revolver.

“You have come in here against my command,” she said quietly, “and I should be perfectly justified in shooting you, as I would a burglar.”

The man sought to temporize.

“Now, see here miss—” he began.

Mabel took a step forward. She was growing angry.

“You just get right out of here,” she exclaimed.

The man drew back a step and scratched his head perplexedly.

“Miss,” he said, “you are making a big mistake to shield this man. I tell you he is plotting mischief which may involve the United States in war. We must have him before the ship sails.”

“Well, you won’t get him in here,” declared the girl.

Again the man hesitated, then seemed on the point of moving forward again.

“I warn you for the last time to get out of here,” said Mabel very quietly.

Once more her revolver came to bear on the man, and he drew back, throwing up his hands with a gesture of dismay. Then he turned to his companions.

“What can we do against that?” he asked. “We can’t use a girl roughly, and if the ship gets beyond the three-mile limit, we can’t get him till we reach Colon.”

“Guess we’ll have to wait then,” said one of the others.

“Yep, guess we will.”

The leader turned to Mabel and made her a low bow.

“I’m sorry you interfered with us,” he said. “You’ll find before long that you have done wrong.”

“Perhaps I shall,” said Mabel; “but I couldn’t permit you to invade my cabin.”

“Tell you what, Tim,” said one of the men, “we’ll just camp out here and get him when he comes out. He’s likely to come out before we sail.”

“Good idea,” agreed the leader. “We’ll do it.”

Again he made a low bow to Mabel and followed his men out.

“Sorry to have troubled you,” he muttered as he took his departure.

Shirley and Bristow now came in from the other room.

“You did splendidly, Miss Ashton,” declared Bristow warmly. “I was afraid you would allow them to enter.”

Before Mabel could reply there came the sound of voices outside. One, raised in anger, was that of Mr. Willing. A moment later, followed by Colonel Ashton and Dick, he entered the room.

His gaze fell upon Henry Bristow.

“So,” he growled, “it’s you they’re after, eh?”

“Yes, sir,” returned Bristow quietly.

“Well, you sit down over there, young man,” said Mr. Willing, pointing to a chair. “I’m going to tell you a few things, and I don’t care whether you like them or not.”

CHAPTER VIII.—THEIR FIRST QUARREL.

Shirley and Mabel glanced at Mr. Willing in surprise. Young Bristow took the seat indicated, and the others also sat down.

“First,” said Mr. Willing to Bristow, “I am going to ask you a question or two. If you refuse to answer, I shall, of course, draw my own conclusions.”

The young man nodded.

“Proceed, sir,” he said.

“All right. Now, in the first place, are you connected, in any capacity, with the German government?”

“That I cannot answer,” was the reply.

“Very good! Now, then, are you aboard this ship at the command of the German government?”

“I cannot answer that question, either, sir.”

“Suit yourself. Is it not a fact that those with whom you come in contact—those who seem to be your friends—are in danger because of their associations with you?”

“I suppose you are right, sir.”

“Just as I expected,” declared Mr. Willing. “Now I’ve got this to say. Already you have been the means of getting my daughter and the colonel’s daughter into your scrapes. They have come to your assistance twice. Also Dick has been with you on one adventure. You will admit that, of course?”

“Of course, sir.”

“Good. Then here is my ultimatum: I want you to keep away from me and mine. I don’t want you to cross this threshold again; and I don’t want you to speak to any of us should you chance to encounter us. Do I make myself plain?”

“Perfectly, sir,” replied Bristow rising from his chair, his face pale.

“I am glad I do,” declared Mr. Willing. “I haven’t any use for a spy, be he German or English. Now you can get out of here.”

Without a word Bristow moved toward the door. But Mabel leaped forward and barred his path. She turned to Mr. Willing.

“Surely you wouldn’t send him out to be captured?” she exclaimed. “Those men are waiting for him out there.”

“That is none of our affair,” said Mr. Willing.

“I agree with Mabel in that,” declared Shirley. “If he goes out before we are beyond the three-mile limit, he will be taken prisoner.”

“And if he isn’t there is no telling what may happen,” commented Mr. Willing.

“Dad,” said Shirley, “please let him stay until we have passed the three-mile limit? Please!”

Mr. Willing hesitated.

“Well, I agree,” he said at length.

Bristow spoke to Mr. Willing.

“I shall stay, sir,” he said, “but it is because I must avoid capture if it is possible. Otherwise I wouldn’t stay in the same room with you.”

Mr. Willing smiled. He didn’t mind that kind of talk, but not so Shirley. She sprang to her feet and faced Bristow angrily.

“How dare you speak to my father like that?” she demanded. “How dare you?”

Bristow turned his head away, and made no reply.

Mabel quickly came to the support of Bristow.

“And why shouldn’t he?” she asked. “He hasn’t done anything and your father was very mean.”

“Why, Mabel,” exclaimed Shirley in surprise.

“I mean it,” declared Mabel. “Your father was mean.”

“He couldn’t be too mean to a German,” exclaimed Shirley.

“You people make me tired,” declared Mabel angrily. “Why are you forever jumping on the Germans? They are in the right and they are going to win.”

“They are not!” This from Shirley. “The English are going to win, and I hope they do!”

“And I hope the Germans win,” declared Mabel.

“Shirley! Mabel!”

Mr. Willing and Colonel Ashton had now taken a hand in the conversation. But both girls were too angry to heed them.

“And just because this man is a German you are all against him. If he were English you would be shaking hands with him.”

Mabel was losing control of herself.

“Why, Mabel,” said Shirley. “You know that is not true.”

“I know it is true,” declared the girl.

Colonel Ashton took her firmly by the arm.

“Mabel, I am surprised at you,” he said. “Go to your room.”

“It’s Shirley’s room, it’s not mine,” cried Mabel.

Shirley advanced toward her friend.

“Mabel, what do you mean?” she asked quietly.

“You know what I mean. You told me I wasn’t telling the truth.”

Shirley compressed her lips and stepped back.

Mr. Willing took a hand in the conversation.

“Unless this foolishness ceases we shall leave the boat at Havana and return home immediately,” he said quietly. “I will have none of this.”

“I don’t care,” declared Shirley, also now very angry.

“Neither do I,” this from Mabel.

“Shirley, go to your room,” ordered Mr. Willing. “I am your father and I will be obeyed.”

Shirley glanced at her father’s stern face, and obeyed. She knew that when he looked like that he was not to be trifled with.

“Mabel, you go with her,” said Colonel Ashton quietly.

Mabel hesitated.

“Do you hear me?” asked the colonel.

Mabel also realized that she had gone too far. She made her way after Shirley.

Inside their room the girls did not speak to each other. In the heart of each there was a peculiar feeling, and each knew that, in a measure, she was to blame. But neither was ready to give in yet.

It was their first quarrel.

Outside Mr. Willing turned to young Bristow.

“This,” he said, “is your doing. And when you once set foot outside this cabin, don’t you ever cross my path again.”

The Yucatan was under way now, and from the window Mr. Willing could see the three men still waiting on the outside. But at last they took their departure and Mr. Willing knew they had passed beyond the three-mile limit. He turned again to Bristow.

“Now Bristow or Von Blusen or whatever your name is,” he said, “get out.”

Bristow turned a dark look upon him.

“You have insulted me,” he said, “and you shall pay for it.”

“I couldn’t insult you, you little whipper-snapper,” said Mr. Willing angrily. “Are you going to get out of here?”

“When I’ve had my say,” declared the young man angrily. “If it were not that I am on important business I would chastise you right now.”

“Is it because you have important business or because you are a child?” asked Mr. Willing smiling.

Bristow took a threatening step forward, but now Dick took a hand.

“That’s enough of this,” he said sternly, and putting forth a hand he pushed Bristow back.

The latter’s face turned a dull red, and he struck at Dick, who promptly slapped him across the face. Dick also was angry now.

“You shall pay for that blow,” shouted Bristow. “I can’t fight you now, but when I have completed my work I shall seek you out.”

“I won’t be very hard to find,” declared Dick. “Now get out.”

He took the infuriated Bristow by the neck and the bottom of the coat and ran him out the door. Then he closed it after him.

“Rather a fiery young man, that,” remarked Colonel Ashton grimly.

“Rather,” agreed Mr. Willing dryly. He turned to the other room and called: “Shirley! Mabel!”

A moment later the two girls came forth. Mr. Willing looked at them severely for some moments before he spoke.

“You should both be ashamed of yourselves,” he said at last. “The idea of such foolishness. Why, you have never quarreled before.”

“And there will be no more of it,” declared Colonel Ashton grimly. “At the next sign of trouble we shall turn right around and go home.”

“Well, Mabel started it,” declared Shirley.

“I did not, you started it,” exclaimed Mabel.

“Shirley!” said Mr. Willing.

“Mabel!” exclaimed Colonel Ashton.

The girls became silent, but continued to glare at each other.

Then, suddenly, a smile broke over Shirley’s face. Her father breathed more freely. Even Colonel Ashton looked at the two girls eagerly.

Then Shirley advanced toward Mabel and held out her hand.

“I’m sorry for what I said, Mabel,” she declared earnestly.

For a moment Mabel hesitated, but for a moment only. Then she jumped quickly forward, and ignoring her friend’s outstretched hand, threw her arms around her and broke into tears.

“It was all my fault,” she sobbed. “You didn’t say anything.”

“Yes I did, too,” said Shirley. “It was as much my fault as it was yours.”

“No it wasn’t.”

“Yes it was.”

“It was not.”

The two girls drew back from each other.

“I say it was,” declared Shirley.

“And I say it wasn’t,” declared Mabel.

“What is the matter with you two?” demanded Mr. Willing, stepping between them.

“Nothing, Dad,” said Shirley, smiling again. She turned again to Mabel.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly.

“And so am I,” said Mabel.

Once more they fell into each other’s arms, laughing happily. Then, arm in arm, they turned and made their way to their own rooms, absolutely ignoring the presence of the others.

Dick, who had felt decidedly uncomfortable during this scene, grinned foolishly. Colonel Ashton laughed aloud, and Mr. Willing smiled.

“Funny things happen, my boy,” exclaimed the latter, slapping Dick on the back. “You learn something every minute.”

And in the other room Mabel said:

“We shall never, never quarrel again.”

“Never!” agreed Shirley.

CHAPTER IX.—ADRIFT.

In the distance the Cuban city of Havana was slipping slowly from sight. Aft on the promenade deck Shirley, Mabel and the others of the party, together with many other passengers, were casting last looks at the island metropolis.

The sun was just sinking below the horizon, but there were still several hours before darkness would fall. The view was indeed picturesque and the passengers were impressed with it.

The steamship Yucatan was now on the last leg of her journey toward Colon.

In the main salon a crowd of men had gathered. On the upper deck, the gallery deck, the promenade deck and the main deck they had also gathered in knots. They blocked the main staircase and the exits from the engine room below.

A group somewhat larger than the rest had assembled about the captain’s cabin. A close observer would have noticed that each man among these different groups wore a peculiar little button in the lapel of his coat.

Each group was silent. It appeared that they were waiting for something. Now a young man appeared and spoke to the first group holding his open watch in his hand. Then he passed on to the next, then to the next, until he had approached all. Then he took his place with the others near the bridge, and waited, watch in hand.

Suddenly he pulled a little whistle from his pocket, put it to his lips, waited a moment, and then blew a shrill blast, that penetrated to the farthest part of the ship.

Instantly the various groups of men wearing the button of peculiar design came to action.

The passengers on the promenade deck, the Willing party among them, found themselves under the muzzles of many revolvers. On the gallery, the deck, the main salon, the grand stairway a like condition prevailed.

Only the men who guarded the exit from the engine and boiler rooms were inactive, but these stood with drawn revolvers.

A dozen men swarmed from the bridge into the wheel house, where they confronted the pilot, the Captain, the first and second officers, who chanced to be there together. Officers in other parts of the ship also had been held up.

The surprise had been complete. The Yucatan was at the mercy of this army of conspirators, whoever they chanced to be.

Shirley and Mabel had eyed the strange proceedings upon their section of the ship with no less amazement than the rest of the passengers. Mr. Willing, Colonel Ashton and Dick were equally astonished.

“What is it, a wholesale hold-up?” demanded the colonel.

“Worse, I’m afraid,” declared Mr. Willing.

“I know!” exclaimed Shirley suddenly. “Mr. Bristow is concerned in this.”

“My goodness! I believe you are right Shirley,” declared Mabel.

“I know I am right,” returned Shirley positively. “This is why he sailed on the Yucatan.”

In the meantime the captors of the vessel had relieved all on board of whatever weapons they had. They had made a systematic search of the cabins, while some of their number kept the crew and passengers covered. Of the many aboard the ship the only ones who did not know what had happened were the engine crew and stokers.

The wireless had been among the first points seized, and the operator had had no opportunity of sending a message.

And now a young man moved about among the passengers, assuring them that there was no danger so long as they kept quiet. This young man came aft on the promenade deck where the Willing party stood.

Even as Shirley had surmised, he was Henry Bristow.

He smiled as he approached them.

“Well,” growled Mr. Willing, “I see you have put the thing through.”

“Part of it sir, part of it,” was the reply. “The rest is to come.”

“What are you going to do now, Mr. Bristow?” asked Mabel.

The latter smiled at her.

“Captain Von Blusen, if you please, Miss Ashton,” he said, “I am no longer Henry Bristow, but Captain Friederich Von Blusen, of His Imperial Majesty’s service.”

“And what are you going to do with the ship?” asked Shirley.

“Why, we shall do a little cruising,” was the reply. “We have established a naval base off the coast of Cuba, but we have no ships on this side of the Atlantic. Therefore we must have ships. This is the first.”

“And what are you going to do with us, captain?” asked Mabel.

“Ah, that is the hard part,” was the reply, “but, before starting, we came to a conclusion, though none of the passengers is likely to be pleased. We shall set you adrift in small boats.”

The others staggered back in dismay.

“Impossible,” declared Mr. Willing. “Surely you are not barbarians.”

“The law of necessity must be obeyed,” replied the captain.

He took his departure.

“The cold-blooded scoundrel,” declared Colonel Ashton. “This is what we get for helping him to escape.”

“And that is my fault,” declared Mabel.

“Well, there is no use talking about it now,” said Dick. “It’s too late.”

An hour later the new crew began getting out the boats, and all the passengers provided themselves with life preservers. Fortunately, the weather was calm and the sea smooth and there was little likelihood of a storm at this time of year.

With everything in readiness, Captain Von Blusen once more approached the Willing party, and drew Mabel slightly to one side in spite of the protests of the others.

“Miss Ashton,” he said, “in your cabin the other day you spoke of your sympathies to the German cause. Now I shall tell you something, for you have done much for me. Advise the others to make no attempt to reach Colon, should they be picked up.”

“And why not?” demanded Shirley.

The captain hesitated.

“Well, there is no harm in telling you,” he said at last. “Of course, you may not know that Germany is trying to bring the United States into this war on her side. We have at last found a way. Just off Colon are several Japanese warships. We shall near them unobserved, and signal by wireless that a certain thing must be done, representing ourselves as one of the Japanese battleships.

“Naturally, we shall be refused permission. Now we have a new invention that would enable us to destroy Colon from a distance, and in our message we shall threaten this unless the supposed Japanese demand is granted. Do you understand?”

Mabel nodded her head slowly. She was beyond words.

“And when the demand is refused,” continued the captain “we shall use some of this new explosive. That will mean war between Japan and the United States, and therefore, England also, as she is Japan’s ally. Do you see?”

“Yes, I see,” said Mabel quietly.

“And what do you think of the plan?”

“I think it is contemptible,” declared Mabel.

“But, but—” began the captain.

“I don’t care to hear any more,” said Mabel. “But you will not succeed, I am sure of that. You can not succeed.”

She turned on her heel and made her way back to the others, the captain standing as if rooted to the deck as he stared after her.

Mabel turned the matter over in her mind. She felt certain that the captain had been boasting, and the more she thought it over the more she became convinced of it. Therefore, she decided to say nothing about it to the others.

Under the muzzles of the revolvers of the captors of the big steamship, captain, officers, crew and passengers now took their places in the small boats, and were lowered over the side.

Each boat was well stocked with provisions and water, for the Germans had no mind to set their prisoners adrift and let them starve or perish of thirst.

The shore of Cuba was not far away, and, with steady rowing by the men, it would be possible for them to reach there within twelve hours. Besides, there was always the chance they would be picked up by a passing vessel.

Fortunately, the passenger list was not large. The bulk of it had been made up of the men who had later captured the ship. Therefore, officers, passengers and crew included, there were not more than three hundred set adrift.

The engine room crew had been impressed into service by the Germans.

The Willing party found themselves in the boat with the captain and perhaps a dozen other passengers. As the boat struck the water, and the men began to row away from the big steamship at the captain’s command, Shirley and Mabel were badly frightened.

In spite of the cheering words spoken by their fathers, Dick and other male passengers, they did not bear up very well. As they looked first in one direction and then the other and saw nothing but water, they broke into tears. The small boat looked very small indeed to be at large upon the water.

Presently all the boats were launched, and rowed some distance from the steamer. There they stopped as a sudden blast signified that the big ship was about to get under way and leave them.

It began to grow dark. The electric lights aboard the large vessel glowed suddenly, and slowly the brilliantly lighted floating palace made off in the gathering darkness.

As it went away and left them to the mercies of the sea, cries of anguish, despair and condemnation were hurled after the men who had thus set the passengers and crew adrift. Women sobbed, and men stood up in the boats and shook their fists after the steamship Yucatan.

And then the great ship disappeared from sight. The men in the small boats renewed their work at the oars, and the boats moved toward the distant Cuban coast.

Adding to the fearfulness of their condition, darkness descended upon them like a pall.

CHAPTER X.—COLON.

At a word from Mr. Willing, after several hours of rowing, Shirley and Mabel cuddled up in their end of the boat and tried to sleep; but this they found impossible, and all through the night they gazed out over the dark waters.

Here and there the lights in the other boats were visible, but before morning they had lost sight of these. When the first faint streaks of dawn appeared in the east there was not another boat to be seen. They had become separated in the night.

The almost twenty passengers in the little craft ate of the food that had been provided and drank of the water. Thus refreshed, and with the sun now appearing above the horizon, their predicament did not seem as serious as it had during the blackness of the night.

There was not an object in sight to break the monotony of the water, and the boat rocked gently on the easy swell of the sea. The men bent to the oars again and sent the little craft skimming through the water.

Came a cry from the man at the rudder, and the eyes of the others followed his gaze toward the distant horizon. They beheld a faint cloud in the otherwise clear sky.

“Steamer!” cried the first man.

The cloud approached nearer and at last the outline of a ship, appearing very small at that distance, could be made out. It was headed on a course that would bring it almost directly in the path of the smaller boat.

As the hull of the vessel grew larger by its approach, occasional cheers broke from the lips of those in the little craft. So far it was impossible to tell whether the castaways had been sighted or not; but as the big ship neared them—now scarcely more than a mile away—the shrill blast of the steamer’s whistle split the air. The small boat with its passengers had been discovered. The passengers raised another cheer.

Rapidly the large vessel bore down on them, and the little craft bobbed swiftly toward it. At last they came alongside.

“Ladies first!” cried the captain of the Yucatan.

Shirley and Mabel were the first over the rail, where they stood awaiting the arrival of the others.

Mr. Willing, Colonel Ashton and Dick were the last to go aboard, and no sooner were the refugees all on deck than the big vessel resumed her course. The captain motioned them to his cabin.

The ship upon which they now found themselves proved to be the Reliance, with a cargo of freight from New Orleans for Colon.

This the captain explained when he learned where the erstwhile refugees were bound.

“We can’t offer you the same accommodations you had aboard the Yucatan,” he said, “but you are welcome to the best we have.”

“And we are indeed glad to get it, captain,” Shirley spoke up.

“No doubt, no doubt,” smiled the captain. “All night in an open boat is no pleasure trip, even if this is the month of June,” and he ordered them assigned quarters forward.

While by no means as large and pretentious as those on the Yucatan, the cabins were nevertheless clean and comfortable.

“We can thank our stars that we were fortunate enough to be picked up so soon,” declared Dick.

“What can have become of the other boats?” asked Mabel.

“Probably reached the Cuban shore,” replied Colonel Ashton. “We are doubtless the only ones that lost our course. The others more than likely stuck close together.”

“I hope they are all safe,” declared Shirley.

“I am sure they are,” returned her father.

“Now,” said Colonel Ashton, “the thing to be considered is, what to do when we reach Colon. Shall we take another steamer and continue our course, or shall we turn about and go home?”

“We don’t want to go home, Dad,” exclaimed Shirley. “You won’t give up the trip to San Francisco, will you?”

“No, I think not,” was the reply. “We can replenish our wardrobes in Colon sufficiently to get to Frisco, and we can do the rest of our buying there. No, we shall go on.”

The girls clapped their hands in delight. Both had feared that the disaster might put an untimely end to their summer vacation.

“What do you suppose the Germans intend doing with the Yucatan?” asked Dick.

“Well, you heard the captain speak of a naval base on the coast of Cuba. They probably will run in there, put some big guns aboard and start out on a privateering cruise. There have been a couple of such German raiders, and they did considerable damage to British merchant ships before they were chased to the safety of internment in Newport News.”

“I guess that is about what they plan to do,” agreed Dick. “I’ll surely have one experience of which to write when I get back to work.”

An hour later the party was gathered on deck, when the captain of the Yucatan approached.

“The first thing I shall do is to report this to General Fullaway, at Colon,” he declared.

“General Fullaway!” exclaimed Mr. Willing. “You don’t mean General Hugh Fullaway?”

“The same,” replied the captain. “Do you know him?”

“Well, rather,” replied Mr. Willing. “We were schoolmates years ago, and have been close friends since. He comes from my home town. I shall look him up. But I didn’t know he was in command in Colon.”

“He has only been recently put in command,” was the reply. “I too know him well.”

The Reliance proved to be a very slow vessel, and it was days before the city of Colon was sighted.

At the entrance to the Panama Canal, Colon is a very picturesque city. Since work on the canal was begun, bringing thousands of Americans to the country, it has been more or less metropolitan in character, at the same time retaining its South American atmosphere.

Shirley and Mabel looked about with wonder as they made their way through the dirty narrow streets toward the hotel. This, however, they found to be strictly up to date in all respects, and they were soon installed in comfortable quarters.

Several hours later, Mr. Willing and Colonel Ashton left the hotel, announcing that they were going to pay their respects to General Fullaway. They were back several hours later and informed Shirley, Mabel and Dick that they were to dine with the general in his quarters that night.

The girls were naturally excited at this prospect, and spent most of the day in the purchase of suitable garments. Dick, as well as Mr. Willing and Colonel Ashton, also purchased more clothing to take the place of what had been lost when they were set adrift from the Yucatan.

General Fullaway had already heard the story from the captain of the Yucatan, but supper over, he desired to hear it once more from his guests.

Mr. Willing related their first meeting with the German commander, who had introduced himself as Henry Bristow when they had first met. He told of the experience aboard the Yucatan while the vessel was tied up at Jacksonville.

“You did wrong not to let the men take him, no matter who they were,” was General Fullaway’s verdict.

“I realize that now,” said Mr. Willing, “but who could have suspected such a gigantic plot?”

“It was a gigantic plot,” agreed the general, “and was carried out excellently. It must have been well planned.”

“Mr. Bristow warned us not to come to Colon, general,” spoke up Shirley.

“He did?” exclaimed the general in surprise. “And why, pray?”

“Well, he said it wasn’t safe,” replied Shirley.

“Hm-m-m,” muttered the general, with a smile. “And did he tell you why?”

“No, sir.”

“I thought not,” laughed the general.

“But he told me, general,” put in Mabel.

The others looked at the girl in surprise, but Mabel bore up steadily under their scrutiny.

“What do you mean, Mabel?” demanded Colonel Ashton.

“You remember when he took me aside just before we were set adrift, father?” asked Mabel.

“Yes, of course.”

“That’s when he told me, but it seemed so absurd and impossible that I didn’t repeat it.”

“What was it, Miss Ashton?” asked General Fullaway. “Will you tell us?”

“He said that Colon was in danger,” replied Mabel, and she repeated the conversation she had had with Captain Von Blusen aboard the Yucatan.

The others listened to her with breathless interest, and there were exclamations of surprise when she concluded.

“Absurd,” said Mr. Willing.

“Impossible,” Colonel Ashton agreed.

“It would seem so, on the face of it,” said General Fullaway, “and I suppose it is. It is true, there are two Japanese warships off the entrance to the Canal. They have not been allowed to pass through because several German merchant vessels are here. As soon as they have cleared, of course we shall permit the Japs to go through.”

“And have the Japs objected to the delay?” asked Mr. Willing.

“They have indeed. They have demanded permission to pass, which has been refused. That was yesterday. But this tale of yours,” the general turned to Mabel, “is incredible. I suppose the German commander told it to you to frighten you.”

“I suppose that was his reason,” Mabel agreed.

At this moment an orderly entered the room and gave a message to General Fullaway. The latter read it, and then turned to Mabel again.

“It seems that your warning may bear fruit, after all,” he said quietly.

“Why, sir?” asked the girl eagerly.

“Why, this message I have here,” said the general, tapping the paper with his finger, “is, or seems to be at least, a communication from the Japanese commander. He says if his ships are not allowed to pass through the canal to-morrow, he will destroy the city of Colon!”

CHAPTER XI.—A WAR SCARE.

An air of intense anticipation pervaded the General’s dining room.

Shirley finally broke the silence.

“And will you give them permission, general?” she asked.

“Not without such instructions from Washington,” was the reply. “My duties are clearly defined. The Japanese ships cannot pass through the canal while German merchantmen are in Colon harbor. However, I am not at all sure the message is from the Japs.”

“You mean—the Yucatan,” asked Dick.

General Fullaway nodded.

“I wouldn’t be at all surprised,” he replied quietly. “I shall communicate with Washington at once, repeating the story you have told me.”

He left the room, and returned in a few moments with a slip of paper which he gave to the officer who had brought the message.

“I should have a reply in a couple of hours,” he told the others. “Would you care to wait and hear the result?”

“Indeed we would,” declared Shirley.

It was almost three hours later before the reply came. General Fullaway read the message in silence, then turned to the others.

“Your story must be true, Miss Ashton,” he said. “Washington seems to have had some rumor of it. The cruiser Tennessee, now stationed here, has been ordered to take the Yucatan in charge.”

“Will there be a battle?” demanded Mabel anxiously.

“I do not think so. The Yucatan, armed though she probably is by this time, would hardly be a match for the Tennessee.”

“I wish we could go with her,” declared Shirley.

“So do I,” agreed Dick.

General Fullaway was silent for some moments, and then he said:

“Perhaps it can be done. There will be no danger. I don’t believe Captain Ainslee would object. The Tennessee will not sail before morning. I shall communicate with the captain immediately, and let you know before morning. He will probably wish to hear your story anyhow.”

Shirley, Mabel and the others returned to the hotel, where they prepared for bed. Mr. Willing was just about to retire when there was a knock at the door. Opening it, a bellboy passed him a message. It was from General Fullaway and said that Captain Ainslee would expect the Willing party aboard the Tennessee by 8 o’clock in the morning.

Mr. Willing called this piece of news to Dick and the two girls, and all were greatly pleased.

“Just think of taking a trip on a warship!” exclaimed Shirley.

All were about early the next morning and were soon at the pier, where they found that a cutter from the Tennessee had been sent to meet them. Captain Ainslee himself greeted them as they made their way over the side of the cruiser, and conducted them to his cabin.

Here he left them for a few minutes while he gave orders to get the ship under way. Directly it began to move slowly through the waters of the harbor, Captain Ainslee returned to the others.

“Now,” he said to Mabel, “I should be glad to hear your story at first hand.”

Mabel repeated it and the captain listened attentively.

“To tell the truth,” he said, “this may be more serious than I supposed. If Germany is bent upon drawing the United States into the war, the Yucatan may not surrender so easily.”

“You don’t mean she is likely to fight?” asked Mr. Willing in some alarm.

“That’s just what I mean,” was the reply.

And Captain Ainslee proved a good prophet.

It was well after noon when a cry from the lookout brought all to deck.

“Steamer off the port bow!” it came.

The two girls rushed to the deck with the others. The ships were still too far apart for those aboard the cruiser to make out the other plainly, and the wireless was immediately put in action.

“German converted cruiser Kaiserin!” came the reply to Captain Ainslee’s message.

“I desire to come aboard you,” was the message flashed back. “Heave to!”

The vessels drew nearer together, until at last Captain Ainslee knew the other vessel was in range of the Tennessee’s big guns.

“I was afraid he would run,” he explained. “Now I shall make my demand for surrender. It’s the Yucatan as you can see.”

The wireless was again put to working, and a demand made upon the German to surrender.

“What for?” came the question.

“Theft of United States vessel and threatening destruction of Colon,” was the reply flashed back.

Captain Von Blusen must have realized that the game was up. The Yucatan was brought quickly about and turned to run.

“Clear for action!” came the command aboard the Tennessee.

Shirley, Mabel and the others of the party found themselves hurried back into the Captain’s private cabin. There, through the port-hole, they watched the preparations for battle.

The girls were greatly interested, and in spite of the fact that they knew they were in danger, they did not lose their coolness nor their courage.

Realizing that the passenger ship was probably faster than the cruiser, Captain Ainslee wasted no further time. The great forward turret gun spoke with a roar, and Shirley and Mabel cried out at the terrific noise.

They could watch the progress of the big shell as it sped toward the Yucatan, where it kicked up the water but a few yards to port. Again and again the big gun spoke, and then there was a cheer from the crew as a shell struck home.

Twice more the Yucatan was hit, and, while not in a vital spot, her speed was suddenly reduced. The Tennessee dashed on.

Then came the first shot from the enemy. The spray flew high beside the cruiser as a shell struck the water to larboard. Before she could fire again, another shell from the Tennessee’s forward turret gun crashed aboard her.

Then a white flag was run up the Yucatan’s masthead.

The firing aboard the Tennessee ceased, and the cruiser bore down on the enemy.

Boats were hurriedly lowered, manned and darted across the water to take charge of the Yucatan. Half an hour later one of them returned bearing the German commander and his officers. They were conducted to the captain’s cabin immediately.

Henry Bristow—now Captain Von Blusen—at first did not see the members of the Willing party in the cabin, and he faced Captain Ainslee angrily.

“What is the meaning of this outrage?” he demanded.

Captain Ainslee smiled.

“Come, come, captain,” he said. “Why this air of wounded dignity? Surely you won’t attempt to deny that you stole the Yucatan?”

“Of course I deny it,” was the reply.

“And I suppose you will also deny sending a message to the commandant at Colon, threatening to blow up the city?”

“That is absurd,” was the reply.

Captain Ainslee motioned to Mabel, and she stepped forward.

“Do you recognize this young lady, captain?” demanded the commander of the Tennessee.

As the other’s eyes rested upon Mabel, he stepped back in surprise and a look of genuine alarm passed over his face. Then it grew dark. He was very angry.

“So,” he exclaimed, “this is the way you show your sympathy for Germany, eh?”

“What is Germany to me?” demanded Mabel hotly. “I’m no German.”

“But you said—”

“I said that because I was angry at the time. You have made trouble enough for us. I’m glad you have been captured.”

“Further denial is useless, captain,” declared Captain Ainslee. “I don’t believe you will dispute the young lady’s words.”

Von Blusen turned away angrily, and his gaze rested on Dick and the others for the first time.

“I see you are all here,” he said. Then to Dick, “And I have not forgotten that I have a debt to settle with you.”

He stepped quickly across the cabin and before the others were aware of what he intended to do, he struck Dick sharply across the face with the back of his hand.

Dick was on his feet in an instant and would have leaped upon his assailant had not the others stayed him.

“Captain!” cried the commander of the Tennessee, “you forget yourself! If that is the way you Germans conduct yourselves no wonder the whole world is against you. Another move like that and I’ll have you put in irons!”

The German captain drew back but said nothing.

“Now,” continued Captain Ainslee, “I would like to know the meaning of this affair you have been mixed up in. Is Germany seeking war with the United States?”

“Why not?” was the reply. “The United States has been against us, why shouldn’t we be against her?”

“It’s your own evil consciences that make you think that,” replied Captain Ainslee. “The United States has been strictly neutral in this war. But an accounting for this will be demanded of the Kaiser.”

“And he’ll give it,” thundered the captain, striking the table with his fist. “He’ll give it!”

“Maybe he will, but he’ll be sorry,” declared Shirley, who could keep quiet no longer. “Uncle Sam will stand no foolishness from the Kaiser.”

Captain Von Blusen smiled at her scornfully.

“We shall come over here some day and take the United States,” he said.

“You’ll be surprised when you try it,” said Shirley angrily.

“Shirley!” exclaimed Mr. Willing. “Keep quiet!”

“I don’t care,” cried Shirley. “Anybody knows Uncle Sam can whip Germany, and all the rest of them, too, for that matter.”

Again Mr. Willing would have enjoined the girl to silence, but Captain Ainslee stayed him with uplifted hand.

“Let her alone,” he chuckled. “That is the spirit I like to see!”

CHAPTER XII.—ABOARD THE YUCATAN.

The Tennessee returned immediately to Colon, followed by the Yucatan, now manned by a crew of American sailors. The run was made quickly, and darkness had just descended when the ships came to anchor and the Willing party made their way ashore and returned to their hotel.

Captain Von Blusen and the members of his crew were immediately turned over to the Canal Zone authorities, pending orders from Washington.

What was the surprise of Shirley and the others, upon reaching the hotel, to find there others of the passengers who had been set adrift when the Yucatan was captured by the German conspirators. They greeted each other warmly.

“We were picked up by a steamer and just reached here this afternoon,” one of the women passengers explained to Shirley and Mabel. “We had about given you up for lost. The rest of us are all here.”

“And so is the Yucatan,” replied Shirley.

In response to exclamations of astonishment, she related the story of the recapture of the vessel.

“Then we shall be allowed to continue our trip, I suppose,” remarked one of the passengers.

“Unless the government decides to hold on to the steamer,” said another.

But the government did not, and the following day the full crew of the Yucatan was once more aboard the vessel, and it was announced that she would resume her journey the following morning.

The day was spent by most of the passengers viewing the sights of interest in the canal zone and in the city of Colon proper.

A few words concerning the Panama Canal will not be amiss here.

The canal was opened to smaller vessels on August 5, 1914, but the official opening did not take place until much later, being attended with elaborate ceremonies.

The canal is about fifty miles in length from deep water in the Caribbean Sea to deep water in the Pacific Ocean. It ranges in width from 300 to 1,000 feet with an average bottom width of almost 700 feet. The Gatun dam along its crest is 8,000 feet long.

The construction of the canal is considered one of the greatest feats of engineering of all time and was accomplished at a tremendous cost. The land was secured by treaty from Colombia at great expense and resulted in considerable trouble between the United States and the South American republic.

It is provided by treaties that the canal shall be open to the vessels of all nations, merchantmen, or ships of war, in times of war as well in times of peace; but strict rules of neutrality have been provided for the passage of war vessels.

All this Mr. Willing explained to the others during the day. With the coming of night, the passengers began to go aboard the Yucatan for the ship was to sail at an early hour and it was deemed advisable to be aboard the night before.

Therefore, when Shirley and Mabel arose and went on deck, the Yucatan already had started its passage through the canal. The girls stood upon the upper deck aft and looked about with interest; but after an hour of this they grew tired and went down to breakfast.

The passage of the canal would require about ten hours and Shirley remarked to Mabel that she would be glad when they were on the Pacific and sailing up the coast.

“And so will I,” agreed Mabel. “Of course it is nice to see all these things, but they don’t interest me a whole lot.”

“I feel the same way. To tell the truth I shall be glad to get to San Francisco. From what I have heard, the Exposition must be beautiful.”

“Indeed it must. By the way, I wonder what will be done with Henry Bristow—I mean Captain Von Blusen?”

“I don’t know,” replied Shirley. “However, I suppose he will be taken to Washington.”

“He seemed a very nice young man. I wouldn’t have thought he was a German.”

“Well, I suppose there are nice Germans as well as any other kind,” replied Shirley with a laugh. “But I wonder why they took such chances?”

“Orders, I reckon. The Germans have shown great daring and bravery in this war.”

“I should say they have. I wonder if the United States will be drawn into the war.”

“My goodness gracious! I hope not! Why, Daddy might have to go.”

“Oh I guess not,” laughed Shirley. “He is too old for that, except as a last resort.”

“But Dick might have to go.”

“That’s so; but I don’t think there will be any war between the United States and Germany. We could whip them easily.”

“I suppose the Germans think they could whip us just as well as we believe we can whip them.”

“But I know we can whip them.”

“Well, I’m not so sure. But one thing is certain, we won’t have to go to war. That’s the advantage of being a girl.”

“Oh I don’t know,” said Shirley, “I believe I would like to go.”

“Not for me,” declared Mabel. “Still, I might be willing to go as a Red Cross nurse.”

“That’s what I meant,” replied Shirley.

Mr. Willing, Colonel Ashton and Dick now joined them, and they discussed recent happenings.

“You don’t suppose there is any chance of Von Blusen getting away, sir?” asked Dick of Mr. Willing.

Mr. Willing looked at him and smiled.

“Afraid he’ll come after you?” he asked.

“No, not exactly sir,” replied Dick. “I just wondered, that’s all.”

“I don’t think there is. I’m sure I don’t want to be on the same ship with him again. He’ll make mischief wherever he is.”

But Mr. Willing was to be disappointed in this wish, as it turned out later.

Noon came and passed and still the big steamship was in the canal; but with the coming of the supper hour the Pacific ocean became visible in the distance.

It was the first time that Dick, Shirley or Mabel had seen the Pacific, and they stared ahead for a long time.

“I don’t see as it looks any different from the Atlantic,” declared Shirley.

“What did you expect?” asked Mabel. “Think you were going to see the name on it?”

“Not exactly. I don’t know just what I expected, but I thought it would look different.”

The others laughed.

“It might feel a little different in case a big storm came up,” said Dick.