Mabel looked up suddenly at the sharpness in her chum’s tone, but her tears soon were dried away. Shirley, in speaking as she had, had done the best thing possible. She had realized that it was time for sharp words and not for sympathy.
After a march of perhaps a half hour, President Garcia called another halt, and then summoned his officers into consultation.
The two girls stood close, but they could not make out what was being said. At length the general dismissed his officers with a gesture, and as they scattered to their respective posts, the general approached the two girls.
“We are going to make a sharp turn to the south here,” he said quietly, “and then we shall move back and engage the enemy. That will put you safely behind us. Now, if I were you, I would bear off slightly to the right, and then go straight ahead. In that way you will be out of danger. If the firing comes closer to you, make another wide detour, turn about and try to make your way back to the ship. But I would not do that until after the battle ceases.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Shirley. “We shall do as you suggest. We thank you for your thoughtfulness in keeping us from falling into the hands of the revolutionists. May you come through the battle unharmed, and may you be successful.”
She extended her hand, and the President bent over it gravely.
“I thank you for your good wishes,” he said quietly.
Mabel also now advanced and extended her hand, and the President bent over it.
“Good luck to you, Mr. President,” said Mabel.
“I thank you, too, young lady,” said the President simply. “Now heed my injunction and betake yourselves to a place of safety. We shall advance at once.”