of the auxiliary cruiser, and the others to another pen below, which was even worse.
"This is certainly hard luck," said Larry, as he threw his bundle into a corner and sat down on an iron bench, while Grandon and Luke did the same. "And after we had almost reached Nagasaki, too!"
"Well, there ain't no use to cry over spilt milk," came from Luke. "We're prisoners o' war, an' I reckon as how we have got to make the best o' it. Ain't the first time we've been in sech a fix."
"That is true, Luke, but it doesn't help the matter any. I guess we have seen the last of the old Columbia."
"I was afraid of this sort of thing happening ever since we left Manila," came from Grandon. "I told the old man to be careful, that"
"Hush!" whispered Larry. "They may be listening—to make sure that they have caught the right parties."
"True for you, Larry; I won't say another word about that. But it looks dismal, no two ways on't," and the first mate drew a mountainous sigh.
The prison pen into which they had been placed was an iron structure, reaching from floor to ceiling, and was not over ten feet square. It had a solid back and the remaining three sides were built up of stout iron bars, only a couple of inches apart
