CHAPTER V.--ABOARD THE YUCATAN.

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.