Jack arranges the scattered sheets and proceeds to the desk of the city editor.
"Ah, Ashley," remarks that dignitary, glancing at the manuscript and without raising his eyes; "trial trip was a success, wasn't it? Yes; well, I have a little something here that I wish you would look up. You have done so much Cuban stuff lately that you are more familiar with the ground than any other man on the staff. The Washington wire states that a vessel, the Isabel, that was to have sailed from here to-day, has been detained at her moorings, foot of Twenty-third Street. She is suspected of having arms and ammunition for the Cuban rebels on board. The information was filed by the Spanish minister. Just look up the local end of the story, find out who fitted out the steamer, where she was ostensibly to clear for, etc. You had better see your filibuster friend, Manada. He might give you something on it."
"Blast Cuba!" mutters Jack, as he leaves the office. "Everything is Cuba now. Talk about Tantalus! His case wasn't a marker to mine. Here are all the characters in a drama in which I am interested gone to Cuba, while I lag superfluous on the stage, doomed to write up stuff about the confounded island and its affairs at long range. Besides, I haven't fairly got back my land legs, and now I must jaunt up the North River two or three miles. Well, there is no use kicking, I suppose. Guess I will look up Don Manada first, though."
Ashley's annoyance dissipates rapidly, however, and he has recovered his customary serenity when he tenders his card to the clerk at the Fifth Avenue Hotel, to be taken to Don Manada's rooms.
"Don Manada has left, sir" the clerk tells him. "He had his effects removed early this morning and stated that he might not return for some months."
"Where has he gone, do you know?"
"To Cuba, I think."
Jack turns away. "To Cuba, of course. Everybody with whom I have business to-day has gone to Cuba. If that filibustering vessel, the Isabel, has not eluded the officers and sailed for Cuba by the time I reach her
