While these events had been transpiring in the Spanish town, Captain Dynamite had not been idle. As the last man of the little Cuban army filed down the mountain-side, he rose from his chair, and tightening his belt stretched his big body as was his custom when any action was imminent.
"Well, my lad, I must be off. There is no time to spare if we hope to be of use. You will remain at Cubitas and when it is all over I will send Washington and a squad to pick you up."
"Oh, no you won't, Cap. When it's all over I shall be right where you are."
O'Connor could not repress a laugh. Mason bristled with indignation at the thought of being left behind.
"There may be a good bit of fighting, my lad," said O'Connor.
"Well, I'm not spoiling for a scrap, but I can't stay behind when I may be of some use to the fellows. Better let me go along with you, Cap, for I shall be close on your trail if you don't."
"Suppose I have you locked up for safe keeping?"
"Now you wouldn't do that, Cap, would you? You can't expect a fellow to sit still and chew his thumbs in safety while his chums are in danger. You wouldn't do it, would you?"
"All right, youngster, come along. I don't blame you for wanting to have a hand in it. And you may be of some use after all."
"I hope you will give me a try, Cap," said the Midget, straightening up his small form boldly.