"
"Where we can loot her. Nice business for a respectable practitioner
like me to be engaged in! Doctor Bryce, of Havana, consorting with
Fenians from Canada, exiled German socialists, Cuban horse-thieves who
would be hung in a week if they went to Texas, and a long-legged sailor
man who calls himself a retired naval officer, but who looks like a
pirate; and all shouting for _Cuba Libre_! _Cuba Libre_! It's plunder
you want."
"But none of us ever manufactured dynamite," answered Boston, with a
grin. "How long did they have you in Moro Castle, Doc?"
"Eight months," snapped the doctor, his face clouding. "Eight months
in that rathole, with the loss of my property and practice--all for
devotion to science. I was on the brink of the most important and
beneficent discovery in explosives the world ever dreamed of. Yes,
sir, 'twould have made me famous and stopped all warfare."
"The captain told me this morning that he'd heard from Marti," said
Boston, after an interval. "Good news, he said, but that's all I
learned. Maybe it's from Gomez. If he'll only take hold again we can
chase the Spanish off the island now. Then we'll put some of your
stuff under Moro and lift it off the earth.
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