“Cantor afterwards secured my permission to go ashore in civilian garb, on the plea that he had urgent private business.  As the landing had been made, I permitted him to go.  I have since discovered that Cantor had word of the Denmans being in Vera Cruz.  Cosetta found the family for him, and Cantor made one last, desperate plea for Miss Denman’s hand.  He was obliged to urge his suit through the open window of the house.  Then, when Mr. Denman sternly refused to listen to him, Cosetta tried to kill Mr. Denman and his son, intending to abduct Miss Denman and to force her to marry Cantor.

“Cosetta died this morning.  He had hoped to become at least a colonel in Huerta’s army.  Cantor did not know Cosetta until that chance meeting took place in the gambling house.”

A week later, Dave Darrin, his wound now almost healed, stood on the bridge of the “Long Island,” Danny Grin at his side.

They had just watched the landing of the last boatloads of General Funston’s regulars.

“I believe that winds up the Navy’s chapter at Vera Cruz, Danny,” said Ensign Darrin.  “The rest of it, if there is going to be any ‘rest,’ will belong to the Army.”

“We had an interesting time while it lasted,” declared Dalzell, with a broad grin.

“There is a world full of interesting times ahead of us.  We’ll find time in every quarter of the globe.  Isn’t that so, Gunner’s Mate Riley?” he demanded of the former coxswain, who, promoted that day, now stepped upon the bridge saluting, to show proudly on his sleeve the badge of his new rating.

Whether Darrin’s prediction was realized will be discovered in the pages of the next volume of this series, which will be published shortly under the title, “Dave Darrin on Mediterranean Service; Or, With Dan Dalzell on European Duty.”

In this forthcoming volume we shall encounter an amazing tale of an American naval officer’s life and duties abroad, and we are likely, too, to hear from Lieutenant Trent and other good fellows from the ward-rooms and from the forecastles of our splendid Navy.