arry be true?"

There was a little water in the stateroom, and as his hands had been
released, Ben bathed his wounds and bound them up as best he could. He
heard the steamer move away from the shore, and soon the steady pounding
of the engines proved that she was forging ahead at her best rate of
speed.

He was a prisoner of the enemy, and what they were going to do with him
was a question still to be answered.

CHAPTER XXIV

THE DEFENSE OF THE POWDER TRAIN

After firing on the Chinese brigands as already described, Gilbert
plunged into the brushwood which was not over half a dozen yards
distant. He heard the shots discharged at him in return, but fortunately
every one went wide of its mark.

Once in the brushwood he did not stop, but continued on his way for
several rods. Then he paused, wondering if Ben was anywhere in the
vicinity.

"I hope they didn't kill him," he murmured. "What a trap that was, and
how easily we walked into it!"

He waited and listened, but nobody came near him. Then, with caution, he
pushed ahead, until he gained once more the road leading back to the
temporary camp occupied by the powder train and the detachment guarding
it. Following this, he ran on at full speed until the welcome camp-fires
greeted him.

"Major Okopa, we have been attacked by Chunchuses!" he exclaimed, as he
rushed up to the officer's quarters. And in a brief manner he explained
the situation so far as he knew it.

The Japanese major had taken a strong liking to Gilbert and Ben, and he
lost no time in ordering out a company to round up the Chinese brigands
if they could be located. It was Gilbert's own command and he was given
permission to remain out the whole night and the next day if necessary.

The young Southerner went at the task with vigor, for he realized that
every moment was precious. He explained the situation to his men, and
they set off at double-quick to where the attack had been made.

As was to be expected, the spot was deserted. By torchlight they saw the
evidences of the struggle which had taken place. In one spot was a pool
of blood, left by the brigand whom Gilbert had shot in the shoulder.

"They went off in this direction," said one of the soldiers, who was
good at tracing footsteps. He pointed to a side road, and along this
they ran, keeping eyes and ears on the alert, so as to avoid anything in
the nature of a surprise.

Two hours later the company found itself on the seashore