A third reason was that Ridge might procure a saddle and bridle, besides a few other necessary articles of outfit for his proposed trip.
He had already been furnished with his bogus despatches to Spanish commanders, every word of which he had carefully read, to see that they contained no compromising errors, and with a supply of money.

Now he provided himself with a repeating-rifle in a water-proof case, a revolver, fifty rounds of ammunition for each, an India-rubber poncho, a small quantity of quinine, a phial of powerful cholera mixture, a stout sheath-knife, and a tin cup.
Within an hour the _Speedy_ was again off, running out of the south channel, past the grim walls of old Fort Taylor, and a few miles farther on passing Sand Key light, which rises from a bit of coral reef barely lifted above the wash of a tranquil sea.

At that time this was the most southerly point of United States territory.

In the deep water just beyond Sand Key lay a great battle-ship, tugging sullenly at her pondrous anchors, and looking like some vast sea monster, uncouth and relentless.
From here it was eighty-five miles in a straight line to Havana, and within five hours Ridge was thrilled by the sight of a cloud-like speck that he knew marked the highlands of Cuba.

Gradually the coast was revealed, then came the low-trailing smoke of ships on blockade as they patrolled wearily before the entrance to Havana Harbor, and after awhile the outlined cathedral spires of the city itself.