Fifteen minutes more and Ashley's toilet is complete, and with heels elevated to a comfortable angle, he proceeds to scan the pages of his morning paper. His own story of the French ball first claims his attention, and with a comment of satisfaction on the size of the headlines with which it is introduced, he runs his eye approvingly over the dozen or so illustrations with which the article is embellished.
A scare head of the largest size catches his eye, and with awakening interest he reads the sensational headlines. "Gaining Ground—Cuban Revolutionists Driving Spaniards before Them—Hemisphere's Exclusive Interview with Senor Manada Creates Excitement in Washington—United States Man-of-War to Be Sent to Cuba to protect American Interests," and much more of the same tenor. As Jack skims over the voluminous dispatches that follow the head, he reads with interest one brief item, dated Santiago de Cuba, via Nassau, N. P. It is as follows:
The Government is redoubling its efforts to suppress
the news, and is apparently determined that the press
of the United States and elsewhere shall not learn the
exact state of affairs on the island. Nine-tenths of the
local newspaper men have been fined by the press censor.
Several editions of the leading papers have been seized,
and telegrams for transmission abroad from eastern
Cuba are now absolutely forbidden. It is also a fact that
foreign correspondents have been threatened with expulsion.
The Spanish authorities allege that the mysterious
steamer fired upon by the warship Galicia was
not the American ward liner Santiago, but a rebel vessel
which the insurrectionists have purchased in the United
States and fitted up as a gunboat. A blockade of all the
ports of the island, as previously intimated, has been
formally announced."
"It looks as if the paper would be obliged to send a
man down there," Ashley reflects, as he struggles into his
topcoat. "What a superb day for the trial trip," as he
