h volunteer, after counting up the
contents of his belt.

"I have twelve rounds, captain," came from Sorrel. "But I reckon you
know how I shoot, an' Jeming's jest as good, mebbe better."

"I think the supply is sufficient," said Ben, "so don't run any
chances. If you think that is an enemy give him a shot. But don't hit
one of our fellows by mistake," he added, by way of caution.

"It's a Tagal!" cried Jeming, while the young captain was yet beside
him. The gun was levelled like a flash, a report followed, and the
Filipino fell behind the bushes and was seen no more.

"Thet will teach 'em to keep their distance," was Sorrel's comment.
"Perhaps they'll clear out soon, bein' afeered some more o' our troops
will come this way."

But the natives were "game," as Ben expressed it; and instead of
withdrawing, they began to come closer, using every bush, tree, and
outbuilding to the best advantage. Some of their fellows had joined
them, so that the attacking party now numbered fifteen, and each well
armed. They had seen that Ben wore the uniform of a captain, and felt
that the capture of such an officer would be much to their credit.

Sergeant Kaser was now groaning so that he could be heard even outside
of the building, and as the rebels had fired through the windows
several times, they concluded that they had wounded one of the four
men they knew to be inside. If this was so, but three _Americanos_
were now left, and they felt that victory would soon be within their
grasp.

"Surrendor, or we kill eferyboddy!" cried one of the number, in
English that could scarcely be understood. "We haf dreety mens
outside."

"We ain't surrenderin', not by a jugful!" answered Sorrel. "What in
thunder does he mean by 'dreety mens'?" he added, to his companions.

"I think he means thirty," answered Ben. "But I don't believe there
are that many."

"Yes, but there are more than there was," announced Casey, quickly.
"I'm just afther seein' 'em pass yonder bushes." He had pointed his
gun, but the Filipinos had been too quick for him.

"Do you surrendor?" demanded the voice again. "We shall begin to shoot
if you no gif up."

"No surrender," answered Ben, firmly.

Hardly had he spoken when something came rolling toward the cottage
and stopped close to the porch. It was a rude ball made of sugar-cane
husks and over a foot in diameter. The ball was ablaze and burning
fiercely, as if covered with pitch.

CHAPTER XV

THE ESCAPE