oldiers. In the rear was a stable
which just now seemed deserted. The several windows of the storeroom
were all barred, but here the bars were screwed fast to wood instead
of being set in stone.

"I think there is a chance here," said the boy, coming back to the
opening. "Here, give me your hand, and I'll help you up," and he bent
down; and soon Luke stood beside him.

"Think we can git out thet way, eh!" said the Yankee tar, surveying
the prospect in the rear. "Well, I reckon it's worth workin' for,
Larry. But the drop from the window, even if we pull away the bars--"

"Here is a rope--we can use that," answered the boy, pointing out the
article around several small boxes. While Luke pried away the bars of
one of the rear windows he possessed himself of the rope, and tied it
fast to a bar which was not disturbed. As soon as the opening was
sufficiently large to admit of the passage of each one's body, Luke
swung himself over the window-sill.

"Come on," he cried softly, and slipped from view. Never had he gone
down a ship's rope quicker, and never had Larry followed his friend
with such alacrity. Both felt that life or death depended upon the
rapidity of their movements.

The ground was hardly touched by Luke when a Filipino boy appeared at
the entrance to the stable. For an instant the youth stared in
opened-mouthed astonishment, then he uttered a yell that would have
done credit to an Indian on the war-path.

"The jig's up!" cried the Yankee tar. "Come, Larry, our legs have got
to save us, if we're to be saved at all."

He leaped across the yard and for the corner of the stable, where he
collided with a Tagal soldier, who was coming forward to learn what
the yelling meant. Down went both the sailor and the guard; but the
rebel got the worse of it, for he lay half stunned, while Luke was up
in a trice. As the soldier fell, his gun flew from his hands, and
Larry tarried just long enough to pick the weapon up.

Behind the stable was a narrow, winding street, lined on either side
with huts and other native dwellings, with here and there a barnlike
warehouse. Into this street darted our two friends, and there paused,
not knowing whether to move toward the wharves or in the opposite
direction.

"Look out!" suddenly yelled Larry, and dropped flat, followed by the
Yankee tar. A sharp report rang out, and a bullet whistled over their
heads, coming from the prison yard. On the instant Larry fired in
return, and the