Hal, in the meantime, had restrained the others from firing.
“It would do little good at this range,” he explained, “and from what I have heard the Cubans are not so rich in ammunition that they can afford to waste any.”
All the time he kept his eyes on the squad below.
Their officer had decided upon an attack, for at a quick command from him the troopers spread out in skirmish line and advanced.
Instantly the pacificos began to take eager aim.
“Don’t fire yet,” ordered Hal.
“But senor,” pleaded one of the quartette, “it is so hard to see the Spaniards, and yet not fire!”
“The best fighters,” rejoined Hal, promptly, “are those who can keep cool and obey orders.”
“The senor is right, mi amigos,” ejaculated Ramirez. “Twice he has restrained my impatience, and in consequence we won both times.”
Bang! A line of fire ran along the skirmish line below, the reports sounding as one.