"Larry Russell, as sure as fate!" cried Grandon, pushing forward. "Well, this is the most wonderful thing I ever heard of. How on earth did you escape drowning and get here?"
And he, too, nearly wrung Larry's hand off. "It's a long story," was the boy's answer to both. "I and Luke Striker floated about until we struck an island, and—"
"Then Luke is safe, too!" broke in Captain Ponsberry. "The Lord be praised, as the parson would say. It's wonderful! simply wonderful! So ye got on an island, and some ship picked ye off, I calkeilate?"
"No, we found an old boat, and set sail in it. But the boat went to pieces, and we floundered around until the Asiatic Squadron came along and Commodore Dewey picked us up, and—"
"The fleet that set sail to fight the Spaniards?" interrupted Grandon.
"Yes."
"Then the fleet's come back here?"
"No, only the despatch boat. The warships are at Manila. I was with them up to a few days ago, and we sunk or burned every one of the Dons' vessels," added Larry, proudly.
