The mystery of the unexploded shell.

Mingled with evident fright and alarm there was upon the face of each a look of incredulity at rashness of the cadet.  Had his adventures and narrow escapes turned his brain, and were they now at the mercy of a maniac? was in the minds of all.

They had not long to wait.  The fuse burned rapidly and spluttered to the end, and as they all involuntarily ducked their heads at the impending explosion, a peculiar thing happened.

When the fire from the fuse reached the shell there was a sharp clicking sound, and those who were looking at the shell saw it suddenly open like a book, and from its hollow interior fell a roll of paper upon the table.

This Clif seized and waved over his head in triumph.

“Hurrah!” he cried.  “It is as I suspected.  Secret dispatches from the enemy that are worth all they have cost!”

The officers were struck dumb with amazement, and stood and stared at the smiling young man as though they could not believe their eyes.  But after a time they crowded around him and examined the shell curiously, and then the papers that Clif held in his hand.

The papers were evidently written in Spanish, and though the American officers could not read them, they now had conceived sufficient confidence in Clif to believe that they were indeed of importance.

The shell, whose quest had caused Clif so much peril and danger, was a curious affair.  It had been cunningly contrived for the purpose it had so admirably fulfilled.  Though very much in appearance like the old-fashioned round shells, it was in two parts, ingeniously hinged so that when closed it required very close scrutiny to detect the seam.

It was hollow, and consequently light in weight.  This fact had first arrested Clif’s attention and had set his thoughts to work upon the mystery that was connected with it.  In the opening where the fuse was inserted there was a concealed mechanism so arranged that it might not be detected or opened with the finger, but would readily give way to the force of a slight explosion in that small cavity.  If it should fall into strange hands, unfamiliar with its design, it was meant to defy all efforts at opening it.

Clif was the recipient of many expressions of praise from the American officers upon his ingenuity in fathoming the secret that was so cunningly devised, and they questioned him at length.

“That is indeed wonderful,” said the superior officer.  “But how did you ever guess the purpose for which it was intended or the method of opening it?”

Clif then explained the circumstances connected with its appearance at his feet among the trees where he was awaiting the Cuban courier.

“I thought it was strange that a ship being pursued should fire a shell at the land instead of at its enemy,” he said, “and when I picked it up I was struck with its peculiarities, but my examination was interrupted by the arrival of the Spanish soldiers.  We were kept busy for a while pursuing them, and did not have much time to pursue this mystery.”

The officer smiled knowingly at this, for he had gathered enough from Clif’s previous narrative to know that the little band of sailors had done great feats that night.

“The shell not exploding,” continued Clif, “led me to think that perhaps it was not intended to explode just then and when I saw that the Spanish soldiers seemed to be hunting for something there, I jumped to the conclusion that it was this identical piece of steel they were after.  That explained their presence there and their peculiar behavior.  And what could the Spaniards want with that shell if it did not contain something of value to them and of greater value to the American cause?”

“You reasoned well,” exclaimed the officer, “and so you decided to risk going back for it, and your ideas have come out triumphant through the test.  But, young man, don’t try any more experiments like that when I’m around.”

They all laughed heartily at this sally, at which Clif joined in.

“But it was decidedly a peculiar way to send dispatches,” continued the officer, “and it would seem as though it was uncertain and unnecessary as well.”

“There seemed to me to be a good reason for it, sir,” said Clif.  “I figured that that boat had been sent to deliver the dispatches, with instructions that if they were pursued to fire the shell at a point agreed upon, and then make their escape.  They were pursued, and did fire toward shore, and the soldiers in waiting evidently saw the flash, and knew about where to hunt for it.  I think, sir, that when these papers are examined it will be found that they contain information that the Spanish army ashore wants the worst way.”

This proved to be the case.  Clif was given custody of the peculiar shell and the papers it had contained, and after a little delay was taken in the boat to the Wilmington.

Signals were exchanged between this vessel and the flagship, and in due time Clif was rowed to the latter and ordered to report to the rear admiral.

He turned the shell and its contents over to that officer with an explanation of all that had taken place.

“I see that you had good cause for desiring to go back to find this shell,” said the rear admiral when Clif had finished.  “We have learned from the prisoner whom you secured after a struggle in your boat, that they had stolen your boat to facilitate the transfer of some papers.  They were late and missed seeing the boat that fired this shell.  Now that you have secured these papers I will call your knowledge of Spanish into requisition and allow you to transcribe these for me.”

And this Clif did; and when he had completed the task it was found that the most important work he had done that night, was in securing that shell and unraveling its mystery.

As he issued from the admiral’s room Cadet Wells, one of Clif’s best friends, approached him.

“Faraday, old fellow,” he said, “I’ve got news that will interest you.”

“I’m listening.”

“It’s about that exception among Spaniards, the lieutenant who helped you and Miss Stuart escape.”

“Ah! what of him?” asked Clif, eagerly.

“You know he left us on a Spanish boat that brought you over under a flag of truce.  Well, we couldn’t touch that boat then, of course, but yesterday she ventured too far out, and the New York sunk her.  We saved all her crew and from one of them I learned what became of Hernandez.  It seems he sought a lonely part of the boat while she was on the way from us to the shore, and knelt to pray.  An officer of the boat saw him thus and withdrew.  A moment later all hands were startled by a pistol shot.  Hurrying below they found Lieutenant Hernandez prone on the deck, a calm smile on his face, a bullet in his brain.”

Faraday was deeply affected.

“And thus,” he said gravely, “perished one of Spain’s real heroes.”