"My lads!" he said, "the odds against us are terrific. All the more reason why we should fight bravely. Let us show the Spaniards to-day what Americans can do."

"Hurrah! Hurrah!" answered the crew, and a ringing cheer went up.

The men knew no fear, and strong hearts count for much in a sea fight.

"Clear the decks for action!" was the order now.

Everything movable was instantly carried away. The decks were stripped bare.

"You have your wish now, Dan," said Young Glory.

"Yes, faith, it's all the fightin' I'll want. Begorra, but it's glad I am I came."

Dan went away and Young Glory was alone.

On the deck of the ship stood Young Glory, ready for the fight, with his eyes on the Spanish cruiser.

Proudly the American flag flew, and when the men saw the Stars and Stripes waving in the breeze, they realized that they had something to die for.

The Spaniard was coming slowly along now.

The gun-boat had slackened speed, but had not changed its position.

Captain Long was discussing the situation with his lieutenant, and the men at the guns were busily doing the same thing.

"It's a fine ship," said one of the men.

"Which?"

"Why, Dan, how in thunder can you ask such a question? The Spaniard, I mean, of course."

"An' it's a quare name it has."

"Cristobal Colon! Oh! that's named after Columbus."

"Ah! it's himself would be the sad man if he could see his own people now."

"Never mind about that, Dan, this is a fine ship, and don't you forget it."

Dan shrugged his shoulders scornfully, and put a plug of tobacco in his mouth.

"Arrah! it's the little boat for me."

"But think of their guns."

"What of them?"

"Why, they've two ten-inch breech-loading rifles, and she has between thirty and forty quick firing guns."

"An' faith, we have eight."

"That's so."

"An' enough," answered Dan, obstinately. "One American equals ten Spaniards. That's my way of looking at it, so, begorra, eight guns equal eighty. Shure, an' it's all in our favor."

Having made this wonderful calculation, Dan walked away with a satisfied expression on his face.

Captain Long had been speaking to Young Glory. It was an unusual thing for an officer to take advice from a seaman, but then Young Glory was a seaman of no common order. Everybody knew that his place was the quarter deck, and that time and again he had refused the promotion which had been offered him.

"There can be only one result," said Captain Long.

"True, sir."

"And the fight won't last long."

"You think not, sir?"

"No, one shot from one of their big guns will put us out of the way if it strikes."

"Then it mustn't strike."

"It can't be prevented. The Spaniards are poor gunners, that's our only chance."

Boom!

"Hulloa, she's opened fire!"

The Spanish cruiser began the attack by firing one of her great guns from the barbette in the bows.

The shot went very wide of the mark, and the Yankee sailors shouted with derision.

They were all at the guns waiting the order to commence. But Captain Long was in no hurry.

Boom!

Another gun from the Spaniard.

"You see, sir, they can't hit us," said Young Glory.

"There's a heavy swell on, and it's almost impossible to train those big guns on us."

"We'll see if we can't do better. Her armor is only three inches thick, steel it's true, but what of that. One good shot may smash through a barbette, anyway."

Then the fight really began.

Boom! Boom!

The rapid firing guns were at work now. Occasionally the deep boom of one of the great ten-inch rifles would be heard, but these latter guns can only be fired at long intervals. It takes time to clean them, load again and fire.