est to have only ears and eyes," he
said, and all saw at once the aptness of the remark.

But though they remained on guard the larger part of the night, nobody
came to disturb them, and the only sound that broke the stillness was
that of the water as it tumbled over the rocks below.

Ben was much worried over Larry's ankle, which had begun to swell
again through having stood so long on it while being tied to the tree.
He brought a canteen of water up from the stream and bathed it with
this. This moistened the mashed-up leaves once more, and then the
injured member felt better, and Larry caught a nap.

"I reckon we had better be moving again," said Boxer, while it wanted
yet an hour to daylight. "Those rebs may be waiting for to see us, you
know."

"Well, my brother can't run, so perhaps it will be just as well if
you take a scout around and see if the coast is clear," said Ben.

"Certainly, cap'n." And Boxer made off without delay, moving through
the jungle and along the stream as silently as some wild animal in
search of its prey.

Fifteen minutes and more passed, and they began to wonder when the
scout would come back, when a low whistle reached their ears.

"It's all right," came from Boxer.

"Nobody in sight?" questioned Ben.

"Nary a reb, cap'n."

"I'm glad of it," put in Larry, with a sigh of relief. "I never want
to fall in with them again!" And he shuddered. He would never forget
how close he had been to death at their hands.

They came down the tree, and after a drink from the stream, set out
again, this time following the watercourse over the rocks until the
cliff was left behind. Here they struck a bit of marsh and had to make
a detour, finally coming out, much to their surprise, on what appeared
to be a regular highway through the forest.

"Now, if we only knew where this leads to," cried Ben.

"I reckon it leads to San Isidro," came from Boxer. "But we may be a
good number of mil--"

"Look! look!" ejaculated Striker, pointing up the road. "The rebels,
as sure as you air born! An' they air comin' about a thousand strong,
too. Boys, we air lost!"

CHAPTER XXXI

THE FALL OF SAN ISIDRO--CONCLUSION

Luke Striker was right; a large force of Filipinos were sweeping down
the road at a rapid rate, bringing with them two old field-pieces and
a rapid-firing gun. They were commanded by several officers on
horseback, and presented a formidable appearance to the worn-out
Americans.

"Out