"It will be bad for you if it happens!"

"It is of myself that I am thinking, senor!" returned the Filipino
dryly. Then, after a pause:

"Come, senor. Surely we can pass out safely now."

"Then we'll do so," agreed Sergeant Hal, "and your life be upon our
success! Don't try to go more quickly than I move, or I shall suspect
you, and with me to suspect is to----"

"Say no more, senor," interrupted the little Filipino. "I understand you
better than I did, and I am taking no chances."

Sergeant Overton still retained his left-handed hold on Tomba as the
pair passed out to what might mean safety.

Through this second doorway they passed, to find themselves ascending a
slope paved only with tightly packed dirt. Glancing up the slope
Sergeant Hal made out three or four stars low down in the sky beyond.

"Night time?" he queried in mild astonishment.

"Yes, senor, and you will even believe that it is the night of another
day," laughed Vicente Tomba, "for you must have lived ages in the last
few hours."

"It wasn't quite as bad as that," the Army boy returned graciously. "In
your way, Tomba, you helped excellently to pass the time for me."

At the top of this interior slope the pair passed out through a doorway
ordinarily closed by means of a stout wooden door. The pair found
themselves in the yard back of Cerverra's house. At one side was an
alley way leading to the street.

"I will leave you here, senor, with your gracious permission."

"Oh, no, no, Tomba! You will go with me, and still held by me, at least
as far as the middle of the street."

With sullen assent the Filipino consented to this. On their
way through the alley they encountered no one.

But, just as they reached the sidewalk, they were met with a sharp hail
of:

"Halt!"

CHAPTER VIII

THE RIGHT MAN IN THE GUARD HOUSE

That command, however, in a good, strong American voice, had very far
from the effect of startling Hal Overton.

Down the street, barely a hundred feet away, a squad of a dozen soldiers
of B Company had just halted in column of twos.

At the head of the squad stood Sergeant Terry and Corporal Hyman.

"Sergeant Terry," called the self-rescued Army boy briskly, "march your
men here and halt them again."

"Very good, Sergeant Overton," answered Noll's voice, precise and formal
as though on parade, but there was a note of joy, none the less, in
Terry's voice.

"I will go now, senor," suggested Vicente Tomba, str