YOUNG GLORY.

Patriotic War Stories.

Issued Semi-Monthly—By Subscription $1.25 per year. Entered as Second Class Matter at the New York, N. Y., Post Office, March 26, 1898.

Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1898, in the office of the Librarian of Congress, Washington, D. C., by Frank Tousey, 29 West 26th Street, New York.

Young Glory and the Spanish Cruiser;

—OR—
A BRAVE FIGHT AGAINST ODDS.

BY AUTHOR OF YOUNG GLORY.

TABLE OF CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.
[SHOOTING A PRISONER OF WAR—A COMRADE TO THE RESCUE.]

CHAPTER II.
[FLYING FOR THEIR LIVES—A BOLD EXPEDIENT.]

CHAPTER III.
[MORE VISITORS TO THE HUT—DAN DALY ROWS DOWN THE CREEK.]

CHAPTER IV.
[YOUNG GLORY AND CAPTAIN RUIZ CALDERON—IN THE CAMP OF THE PATRIOTS.]

CHAPTER V.
[AT VALMOSA—YOUNG GLORY DENOUNCED.]

CHAPTER VI.
[FIGHTING IN THE BOATS—DAN DALY ARRIVES.]

CHAPTER VII.
[ARRIVAL AT THE BROOKLYN—DISCOVERING A RAFT.]

CHAPTER VIII.
[YOUNG GLORY ON THE NASHVILLE—AT SAN JUAN DE PORTO RICO.]

CHAPTER IX.
[THE FIRST SHOT—A HOT FIGHT.]

CHAPTER X.
[BOARDING THE CRUISER—THE LAST STAND.]

CHAPTER XI.
[YOUNG GLORY TO THE RESCUE—A SURPRISE FOR THE BROOKLYN.]

CHAPTER XII.
[THE SPANISH PLOT—YOUNG GLORY'S DANGER.]

CHAPTER XIII.
[FORTUNE FAVORS YOUNG GLORY—CAPTURE OF THE MAGAZINE.]

CHAPTER XIV.
[JUAN AND LIEUT. TYLER—WHAT YOUNG GLORY DID.]

CHAPTER XV.
[THE CRUISER IN DANGER—A PRICE ON YOUNG GLORY'S HEAD.]

CHAPTER XVI.
[CONCLUSION.]

CHAPTER I.

SHOOTING A PRISONER OF WAR—A COMRADE TO THE RESCUE.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, senor."

"Faith, an' it's a polite nation I always said ye were."

The first speaker, a Spanish officer, laughed mockingly as he uttered this apology.

The man to whom he addressed his words was Dan Daly.

Dan had been a boatswain's mate on the battle ship Indiana, then on the Cruiser Columbia, and he was now filling a similar position on the Cruiser Brooklyn. Dan Daly was Young Glory's bosom friend, and the Irishman had been the companion of the gallant young hero in many of the daring exploits that had given him world-wide fame.

Dan's position now appeared desperate.

A landing party from the Brooklyn had been surprised by a body of Spaniards in a small village, not many miles from Matanzas, an important town on the north coast of Cuba.

After a short but desperate encounter, the American sailors, overwhelmed by numbers had retired to their boats, leaving Dan Daly behind, a prisoner in the hands of the Spaniards.

A short, quick trial took place. Dan was denounced as a spy, and instantly sentenced to death. It was ordered that the sentence should be carried out at once. So now Dan stood looking death calmly in the face as he had so often done before.

A file of soldiers was rapidly marching to the place of execution, and their heavy tread could be plainly heard as each moment they drew nearer.

The prisoner was standing against a wall, and immediately behind him was a closed door, which was the rear entrance to a large house in the village.

The house itself was at least fifty yards from this wall.

"Ah! how are the men?" said the Spanish officer. "So your waiting days are over."

The file of soldiers drew up about thirty yards from the doomed man, and as they grounded arms the sound sent a sickening sensation through the brave Irishman's heart.

"Shure, it's not war, but murther's your trade," said Dan. "It's the haythins thimselves wouldn't be afther tratin' me this way."

"Talk on," said the Spaniard, coolly, "if it does you any good. It won't alter matters. You have been condemned, and must die."

"Ah, but it's revenged I'll be."

"How?"

"You won't ask when you see the Stars an' Stripes, the flag of the free, floatin' over this island."

The Spaniard laughed contemptuously.

"That day will never come. Bah!" he added, stamping on the ground, "why do I waste time talking to a miserable Yankee spy?"

The man turned away. But in an instant he came back to the prisoner.

"Spy or not," he growled, rather than spoke, "I suppose you're a human being."

"Faith, an' if you are, I'm not."

The Spaniard's face grew dark with passion.

"Silence! I ask you if you have any request to make. If possible, it shall be carried out."

"Shure, an' I have, then."

"Quick! my men are waiting. Speak!"

"It's Young Glory I'd like to spake to. I'd like to shake his hand—" Dan's voice faltered here—"before I die."

"That young wretch!" cried the Spaniard, savagely. "So you're his friend?"

"The truest he iver had."

"Then, as Young Glory is not yet in our hands, your request is denied."

Dan's eyes twinkled with fun. The nearness of death could not depress him.

"Shure, it's in no hurry I am. I can wait till you catch him."

The Spanish captain glared fiercely at Dan. Then he faced round towards his men.

"Are your rifles loaded?" he cried.

"Yes, yes, senor capitan!"

"Shoulder arms, then. Wait for the word."

Dan stared round, taking his last look of the earth.

The brave fellow had refused to have his eyes bandaged, and now he was staring defiantly at the men who were to be his executioners.

"They may miss you, senor, the first time," said the Spaniard. "Our men can't fire as straight as you Yankees."

Dan Daly understood what this speech meant. It was virtually a command to the firing party not to kill at the first volley. They intended to prolong Dan's agony.

"Ah! you tremble," cried the Spaniard, gleefully.

Dan held out his hand.

"Faith, it's not you can make my hand shake. It's firm as a rock."

The Spaniard bit his lips with passion. He saw that he could not subdue the proud spirit of the American sailor, and he had hoped to see him writhing on the ground with fear, begging for mercy.

"Yankees are animals, not men," he said, savagely. "No matter, the world is about to be rid of one of them."

"We shall see."

The words were not spoken by Dan, yet they seemed to come from the spot where he was standing.

Instantly the door in the wall was thrown open, and a man dashed through. He seemed to be a Spaniard, for he was wearing the Spanish costume.

Before the officer could raise a hand to defend himself, the stranger was within a yard of him, holding a six-shooter at his head.

Dan was paralyzed with astonishment.

The firing party had lowered their rifles. They had broken their ranks, and were talking together excitedly and rapidly.

By this time the Spanish officer had somewhat recovered from his surprise, and the color which had left his cheeks began to return.

"Who are you?" he demanded, sternly.

"Speak lower, senor, a little lower. I allow no one to address me thus."

"Address you! Caramba! I speak as I please. I am master here!"

The stranger laughed mockingly.

"We won't discuss that point, for I see we shall not agree."

"What do you want?"

"Ah! That's a different question, and I'll give you an answer. You have a prisoner here, an American sailor."

"What of it?"

"He is your prisoner no longer. He is mine."

"You dare to interfere between me and an enemy of your country!"

"I dare do even more than that, senor capitan."

"I will soon put an end to this farce. Hold!"

The officer called to his men, and instantly they were all attention.

"Put a bullet into this impudent rascal."

Quick as lightning the rifles went to the shoulders of the soldiers.

But the stranger was quite prepared for this maneuver.

Like lightning he grasped the Spanish officer and drew him towards himself.

"Now, senor capitan, you are between me and your soldiers. Your late prisoner is behind me. If your men fire, whom will they hit?"

The officer trembled. He saw that it was impossible for his assailant to receive one bullet. The soldiers were also aware of this fact, and so they stood motionless, not daring to fire.

The Spaniard then assumed an air of bravado.

"This is all childish," he said.

"You think so?"

"I know it. You have, by a trick, got me in your power, but for how long?"

"For a sufficient time."

"You are foolish. You have sacrificed your life without helping the prisoner."

"We shall see."

"Yes, and quickly. Supposing you kill me. What follows?"

"Faith, you're dead!"

It was the first word the Irishman had spoken.

The Spaniard glanced ferociously at him.

"I was not speaking to that fool, but to you. I ask, supposing you kill me, what follows?"

"Senor capitan, that won't happen, so we'll not talk of it. Come!"

"Come!"

"You heard me. Walk steadily forward. I'll step backwards keeping my eye fixed on your soldiers. I don't want any harm to happen to you, and they may fire without thinking."

The stranger made a sign to Dan to go before him, so now the prisoner, the stranger and the captain stood in single file, the last named being nearest the soldiers and thus acting as a perfect shield.

"Oh, you won't stir. Very well!"

With these words, finding the officer did not move, the stranger held his six-shooter a little nearer to him, and gave the Spaniard a threatening look.

"Ah, I thought so. Now you walk."

"You have me in your power. I must, but I will have a bitter revenge. Senor, you are cowardly!"

"Cowardly! Ha! Ha! a pretty accusation from you. What! you talk about cowardice! You, who don't know how to treat a brave enemy as a prisoner of war, but place him up against a wall to have him shot down as if he was a dog. Senor capitan," continued the stranger, speaking very sternly, "you have excited my hatred. Another such speech as your last and you will earn my contempt."

Dan Daly was moving along like one in a dream.

By this time he had reached the door which still stood open.

"Pass through," cried the stranger in a commanding tone.

Instantly Dan did so.

"And me?" asked the officer.

"You will stay where you are."

"And yourself, senor, where shall I find you?" asked the officer, sarcastically.

"That you will know when you discover me!" answered the stranger, defiantly.

With these words he grasped the Spanish officer by the shoulders, and using all his strength to throw him backwards, sending him with such force to the ground that he rolled many yards.

Then like lightning he dashed through the doorway, closing the door behind him, instantly.

Bang! Bang!

A volley of bullets came, burying themselves in the wood.

They were too late to do any damage, for the door was closed before the soldiers fired.

"Now, Dan Daly," said the stranger, "if you value your life, follow me."

"Young Glory!" cried the Irishman, astounded.

"And who else did you think it was?" retorted Young Glory, as he led the way through the garden.

CHAPTER II.

FLYING FOR THEIR LIVES—A BOLD EXPEDIENT.

Behind, a furious rush was being made at the door.

Even if this did not give way, it was an easy matter to scale the wall. So Dan Daly and Young Glory had no time to lose.

"Friends of yours live here?" questioned Dan.

"No, no! Don't talk, but look about you!"

A narrow passage led to the side of the house, and as the fugitives reached it, a man stood in their way.

"You cannot pass," he said.

"But we do," retorted Young Glory, bounding forward, and giving the man a furious blow in the face with his fist. Down he went like a log.

"Shure, he's punished for not kapin' to the truth," laughed Dan.

"Now our troubles commence," said Young Glory. "Across this court-yard, or patis as they call it, Dan, and then we're in the street."

Several people, evidently servants belonging to the house rushed into the patis, but none of them attempted to interfere with the two Americans. They seemed completely scared, and stood with startled looks on their faces as the fugitives dashed past.

Now they were in the road.

This part of the village was deserted, for all the people had gone round to the rear of the house where the execution of Dan Daly was to have taken place. It was a sight they did not care to miss.

So Young Glory and Dan crossed the road and then entered a thick wood, which seemed to them to have no paths in it.

Through it they pushed their way, listening intently for sounds of their pursuers. Their progress was slow, but so would that be of the men who were after them. The only advantage the latter possessed was that they knew the country.

"Water!" cried Young Glory.

"It's a river, shure," said Dan.

"No, there's no river in these parts. I'm certain of that. It must be a creek—part of the sea, in fact."

"Faith, it's small use talkin' about it. It's there, an', begorra, our goose is cooked; we can niver get any further."

"It's a bad lookout."

"An' why shouldn't we swim, Young Glory?"

"And be shot down. How long would it take us to get to the other side? Why, if we escaped the bullets the Spaniards would send after us, we'd find the enemy waiting for us when we landed. That's so, Dan; take my word for it."

Dan turned slowly round. Young Glory regarded him with amazement.

"Where are you going?"

"It's savin' time I want to be. We can't escape. It's yourself said so, an' shure I'll jist go back an' meet the Spaniards."

"Pshaw! We are not captured yet, Dan! There are more ways than one of getting out of a difficulty. We'll keep along by the creek, close to the trees, ready to get amongst them if anybody shows up."

"It's in your hands, I am," said Dan Daly, resignedly.

Now, Young Glory knew the position was very serious. He had not the faintest notice how they were to escape.

It might have been possible for him to have got away, but not for Dan. The Irishman was wearing an American naval uniform. To desert Dan, of course, never entered Young Glory's head.

Dan put his hand on the boy's arm at this moment.

"It's back ye must be kapin'."

"Why?"

"Shure, there's a house."

"I see it."

Young Glory's face brightened instantly.

"By jingo, this may be our salvation!" he cried.

"It's puzzled I am!"

"I'm not. Stay where you are, Dan. That is to say, get amongst these trees till you hear from me."

"But where are ye goin'?"

"Going to call on some friends of mine who live in that house."

Before Dan could say a word, Young Glory was gone, and the Irishman, mindful of his safety, hid himself amid the bushes, still keeping a watch on the house to which his comrade was going.

Young Glory walked boldly up to the hut, for it was no more, and hammered sharply on the door.

He had no cause for fear. He was dressed in the native costume, and spoke the language perfectly.

It was some few minutes before any one answered his summons, and then the door was opened by as villainous-looking a man as Young Glory thought he had ever set eyes on.

The man was apparently about forty years old, not tall, but broad-shouldered and strong.

"Good-day, comrade," said Young Glory, gayly.

The man growled forth a reply.

"Come, come, that's not very civil. A drink and a rest is what I should expect you to invite me to have."

"Go on expecting," answered the man, savagely, showing his teeth as he spoke. "It's all you'll get out of me, senor."

"You're not polite. Caramba! it's living alone has made you like this."

"If I want to live alone," answered the man, adopting a threatening attitude as he spoke, "is it anybody's business but mine?"

"Certainly not," said Young Glory, aloud.

Then to himself he said: "Now, I know there's no one else in the house. Good, that decides me."

"Well, comrade," said Young Glory, smilingly, "people tell me that I've a way with me there's no resisting."

"It has no effect on me."

"Are you sure?"

Quick as a flash, just as the words came from his lips, Young Glory drew his six-shooter from his belt, and held it at the man's head.

"Ha! Ha!" laughed Young Glory, "you change color. You see I was right. Don't you think so?"

"What's your game?" asked the man, sullenly. "I've done you no harm, never seen you in my life before, so you can't want to kill me. And as for robbing me, well, try it. If you get enough to buy yourself a drink I'll be surprised."

"Get into the house," said Young Glory. "Back with you. Hi! Hi!"

The last two cries were meant for Dan, who heard them, and was in time to see Young Glory entering the hut. Dan noticed that his comrade had signed to him, and he immediately ran towards the place.

In a moment he was in the hut.

"A friend of mine, Dan Daly," said Young Glory.

"The top of the mornin' to ye, senor," cried Dan, taking off his cap, gravely. "It's meself's plased to meet you."

"You're an American?"

"Yes."

"Curse you!"

"Our friend's not polite, Dan," said Young Glory. "I've found that out already. But, to business."

"Business!"

"Yes, Dan. We've much to do. Take this man, gag him, and tie him up securely."

Dan rushed at the fellow without another word.

"Quiet! or I'll shoot you," said Young Glory, seeing the man about to resist.

The sight of the pistol effectually settled the matter, and Dan did his work so expeditiously that the man was lying at the rear of the hut hidden under a heap of rubbish in a very few minutes.

"Now, you must skip, Dan."

"Me?"

"I said so."

"But you?"

"Oh! I stay here," answered Young Glory, carelessly. "You see, the men in pursuit of you will come up very soon, and I must be here to receive them."

"Begorra, it's murther!"

"I think not."

"Young Glory, it's throwin' your life away ye'll be; they'll know you at once."

"We shall see."

"But where shall I hide?" cried Dan.

"Rush to the woods and stay there."

"They will search the woods."

"Not after they've heard my story. I'll put them off the trail. Quick! Get away!"

Young Glory ran to the door of the hut. Then he came back with a look of dismay on his face.

"Too late!" he cried.

"What!"

"Too late, I said. The Spaniards are coming up by the creek. You can't get away from this house now without being seen."

It was Dan's turn to look scared now.

"It's your own fault," answered Young Glory, impatiently. "You would waste the precious moments by arguing the point, so see what you've brought us to. There's only one thing for you to do now. Under with you."

"Where?"

"Get alongside our friend. Keep him company. Lie still, Dan. It's your only chance."

Young Glory assisted in covering Dan up, and this done, he threw off the hat and cloak he was wearing, and secreted them. Then he hastily assumed some old garments he found in the hut, rubbed some dirt over his face, pulled his hat over his eyes, and with a cigarette between his lips took his station at the door to wait for the soldiers.

Spanish soldiers are not very ceremonious in their treatment of civilians. So Young Glory found himself roughly addressed by the officer in charge of the detachment.

"You live here?" said the officer.

"Yes, senor capitan," answered Young Glory, "this is my poor house."

"Very well. You're the man I want. Have you seen anybody pass this way?"

"No."

"Have you been standing here long?"

"Yes, for an hour."

"And you saw no one pass?"

"I said no, senor capitan."

"They must have passed this way," said the officer, in a low voice, to his sergeant. "The fellow's deceiving us."

"Pardon, senor capitan," said Young Glory. "I have something to say. Just now I saw two men."

"Two men!" cried the captain, excitedly. "It must be they. Where! Where!"

"They came out of the wood about two hundred yards below, and seeing me standing at the door they darted back again into the trees."

"Ask him what they were like," whispered the sergeant. "That will test his story."

The officer, pleased with the suggestion, put the question.

"Like! well, now, it wasn't as if I had many minutes to examine them, and, besides it was too far off for me to tell the color of their hair or eyes."

"Fool!" exclaimed the captain, savagely. "Their dress! that's the point."

"One of them seemed to be a civilian, a Cuban I should say, capitan. The other, was certainly a sailor, a navy man, the——"

The captain waited for no more.

"Our men," he cried enthusiastically. "They cannot escape us now."

Young Glory threw away his cigarette and smiled as he looked after them.

CHAPTER III.

MORE VISITORS TO THE HUT—DAN DALY ROWS DOWN THE CREEK.

"You can crawl out of your shell, Dan, now," said Young Glory, when the last soldier had disappeared.

"Faith, that's a comfort. An' what did them sogers want?"

"They were looking for you, Dan. They found me, but didn't know me."

"It's great ye are, Young Glory. There's nobody but yourself could decave them. It's time we have for talkin' now, an' it's mesilf 'd like to know how ye stopped them spalpeens from shootin' me."

"When I saw you taken prisoner, Dan, I determined to save you. The boats went back to the cruiser, but I didn't."

"Ye stayed on shore?"

"Yes. By good luck I managed to get into a house while everyone was away, and get a change of clothes. Then I came to look after you. Why, I was present when they tried you."

"No!"

"But I was. It's not Young Glory's way to desert a comrade, Dan."

The Irishman pressed his hand warmly.

"It's the lucky man who has yourself for a friend, Young Glory."

Dan began foraging about the hut now.

"It's food an' drink I'm afther," he explained, "an' partic'larly the last. Ha! what's this? Wine! Well, it can't be helped."

"What did you expect to find?"

"A drop of the craythur, shure. It's much I'd give for three fingers of whisky."

The two seamen made a good meal of some cold fish and bread and the bottle of wine, most of which latter going down Dan's throat.

Then Dan lit his pipe.

"Hurroo! but it's great. It's happy as a king I'm feelin'."

"For how long? We can't stay here, Dan; we must get out of this."

"But not till it's dark."

"Perhaps not."

"It's Captain Miles won't go away, Young Glory. He'll be afther kapin' the cruiser near."

"Yes, I feel certain he will. I've no doubt he's doing his best to rescue you, Dan."

And so the two talked on, Dan smoking and Young Glory thinking how they might make their escape.

It seemed as if night would come and find them chatting.

An interruption took place.

Young Glory from time to time went to the door of the hut and glanced up and down the road. Now he came back quickly.

"Your hiding-place again, Dan."

"Why?"

"There are more soldiers coming."

"Murther!"

"There will be if you don't hurry."

The warning was enough. Dan was out of sight in a moment.

This second visit to the hut alarmed Young Glory greatly.

He saw that things were in a very critical position.

In the event of a thorough search it was absolutely certain that Dan would be discovered.

As the soldiers approached the hut, Young Glory tried hard to maintain his calm. He saw with surprise that all these men were officers. So much he could tell from their uniforms.