The second woman approached with water and bandages and soon bound up his wounds. Then the lad was escorted to another room, which looked out upon the road. The woman mounted guard over him with her revolver.
“Some of our troops will be here before long,” she told him. “Until then I shall guard you.”
All this time Chester retained his hold on the broken sword. Suddenly, down the road, came the sound of a galloping horse. Chester glanced through the window and in a moment he had made out the figure of Hal. Quickly he stepped to the window, and before his captor could prevent him, shattered the window pane with his broken sword.
“Hal!” he cried at the top of his voice. “Hal! Here I am, wounded and a prisoner!”
The woman hurled herself upon the lad and bore him back out of sight. In his weakened condition he was no match for her. She thrust him back into the chair. He turned his eyes to the window. Hal had passed on.
“Great Scott!” ejaculated Chester. “He didn’t hear me!”
But Hal had heard. He recognized the sound of his friend’s voice, and realized that he was in trouble of some kind. Likewise he surmised what the trouble was, for he knew that they were in the heart of a hostile country. Therefore, he did not check the speed of his horse at once, but rode some distance further before drawing rein. Then he dismounted and tied his horse to a sapling.
Springing in among the trees, he advanced cautiously toward the house. Both women, secure in the belief that he had passed on, turned to taunt Chester. The latter shut his lips grimly and refused to make a reply.
Suddenly, from the next room, came a tremendous clattering of pots and pans.
Both women jumped to their feet.