It was about the middle of the afternoon, and from a long distance came the sounds of firing. But the booming came from big field-pieces, so Larry knew it must be far away, and so it gave him small hope.
The rebels had just brought in some fresh meat, procured from the town at the foot of the long hill, and they speedily proceeded to make a beef stew with rice and yams. The smell was appetizing, and as nobody had had a square meal that day, Larry brightened over the prospect.
The cave in the hillside was irregular in shape, running back to a series of openings which nobody had ever yet explored. In this cave the insurgents kept some of their supplies, brought up from San Fernando, San Isidro, and other places. It was a fact that Aguinaldo hardly knew where to “jump” next.
Before nightfall the dinner was ready, and the chief of the rebels had the prisoners supplied with bowls of the stew. “Eat all of eet,” he said, with a grin. “For maybe no geet such t’ings to-morrow.”
“Thanks, we’ll fill up then,” responded Larry, and set to with a will, as did all the other prisoners.
The captives were unarmed, and though the rebels watched them, they were allowed more or less of the freedom of the camp. Finishing his bowl of stew, Larry leaned over to where Leroy sat.
“Leroy, if we can manage to get a kettle of that stew, I’ll be for trying to get away to-night,” he whispered.
“And how are ye going to get it, lad?” asked the sailor.
“Wait and you will see,” was the answer, and Larry arose and sauntered over toward the fire.