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.