n bent down to slash at the Flag.

It was hard for some sixty of Uncle Sam's men to stand there, with guns
in their hands, and witness such desecration as that. Some of the
soldiers began to mutter.

"Silence!" hissed Lieutenant Prescott.

One soldier rested his rifle forward, as though bent on taking a shot,
but Sergeant Hal, like a flash, knocked up his arm.

"No man is to fire unless ordered," muttered Overton, and Lieutenant
Prescott nodded his approval.

Soon the Flag lay torn and trampled, all but covered in the dust of the
roadway before the school. Then one of the Moros again struck a match.
In a moment the flames began to crackle and the smoke to ascend.

Then, as if satisfied with their work, the brown rascals set out at a
steady trot in the direction of Seaforth's.

"Men," spoke Lieutenant Prescott, in a low voice, "it would have been
fine to have poured a volley into those wretches, but it would have told
their main body our exact location. We must sink all other feelings
until we have reached the plantation and rescued those imperiled there.
Corporal Cotter, lead your men to the left, through the woods and around
the schoolhouse. On the other side you will find a path that you will
follow."

As the detachment started Hal saluted.

"Sir, have I your permission to run out into the clearing, recover the
Flag and then rejoin you?"

Lieutenant Prescott shot a keen look at the Army boy, then answered
briefly:

"Yes, Sergeant."

Hal's task was quickly executed. In the open he encountered no one; when
he rejoined the column in the woods he reverently carried a Flag, torn,
slashed and dirt-stained.

"One of these days, sir," quivered the Army boy to his officer, "I hope
to be able to teach those Moros a lesson with this very Flag!"

CHAPTER XI

IN THE FIRST BRUSH WITH MOROS

At times, while the detachment in the woods covered that last mile the
firing ahead cropped up briskly. Then it died down into an occasional,
sputtering shot or two. But every discharge of a rifle ahead was now
distinctly audible to Uncle Sam's men marching to the relief.

At last the marching men came so close that the young lieutenant
whispered to the boyish sergeant:

"I'm going to join the 'point,' Overton. Bring the men on at the same
interval, but keep your eyes ahead for signals from me."

"Very good, sir."

Ahead the marching men could now see that the trees were thinning out.
Still further ahead they k