them. As Larry sipped his steaming coffee and munched a soaked-up hardtack, he looked occasionally through the port and over the distant waters, and beheld what looked like a mass of shipping backed up by a solidly built-up town. This was Manila itself.
"It looks exactly as it did when I was here years ago," remarked Striker. "That part over to the right is old Manila, where the military post used to be. The main shipping is dead ahead of us, in the new territory. There is a river running between the two portions."
"I don't see anything like a warship," said Larry, "though, to be sure, it's too dark yet to see much."
"They'll see all they want to see when the sun is a bit higher, lad, and they get out their best glasses. But I don't think the Spaniards would put their battleships in the midst o' that shipping—it wouldn't be fair, if they were expecting us."
The squadron now began to move along the front of Manila harbor, with glasses trained on the shipping, from which, as the sun came up, could be seen floating the flags of various nations. Some of the flags were Spanish, but these were on merchantmen and fishing craft.
