is less than six miles to the entrance to the harbor, and once outside we can snap our fingers at a whole fleet of Spanish cruisers. Besides, with all the various craft scattered about the harbor, they will not dare to fire on us."
Navarro shakes his head skeptically, but does not reply. The boat has reached the side of the war vessel. The Semiramis is now nearly abreast of the latter and distant less than half a mile. Suddenly a puff of smoke rises from the forward deck of the Spaniard, followed by the sharp crack of a rifle.
"There! She has signaled you to heave to," remarks Navarro. "As I told you, you must surrender me."
"This is my answer," replies the owner of the Semiramis, drawing his revolver and firing two shots in the air. Then to Capt. Beals on the bridge he sings out: "Full speed ahead!"
Smoke is now pouring from the stacks of the warship, and it is evident that she is preparing to pursue the American yacht, but she does not, as Navarro predicted, fire on the latter. Before the cruiser gets well under way the Semiramis is within four miles of the channel that marks the entrance to the harbor.
Van Zandt smiles at Navarro. "We will lead him a merry race if he thinks to catch the Semiramis," he remarks. "This yacht can go two miles to his one. And if he hasn't improved in his marksmanship I will risk his guns. Ah, there goes the first one!"
The Spaniard has succeeded in getting within range of the yacht without endangering any of the other craft, and the roar of his forward gun is heard as Van Zandt speaks.
"An eighth of a mile to windward," observes the latter, as he watches the solid shot skip over the water. "He can't race and shoot, too."
Evidently the pursuer has come to the same conclusion, for he fires no more guns, but doggedly plows the placid waters of the harbor after the great black yacht.
And now the latter is less than half a mile from the cleft in the precipitous coast line. Capt. Beals has slowed
