At these words Larry could not help but shiver. He knew what the officer up at the cave prison had said,—that any prisoner trying to escape would be shot at the first opportunity which presented itself.
“Surely, you would not kill me for trying to get away?” he cried quickly.
The under-officer shrugged his shoulders. “It is not for me to change our regulations of war, boy. Your words prove that you knew beforehand the risk you were running.”
“Yes, yes—but— You would try to get away too, if our soldiers caught you.”
“Possibly—I understand you treat your prisoners very badly.”
“Our prisoners are treated as well as yours. And we would not kill a Filipino for having tried to escape,—unless, of course, he was shot in the attempt.”
“It is you who say that—I have heard vastly different stories; how our men were starved and shot down without mercy,—not one man, but hundreds of them. I have it from friends in Manila that your General Otis is a monster who would rather kill than save at any time.”
“Your friends have told you that which is not true!” exclaimed Larry, warmly. “If anything, General Otis is too kind-hearted, especially with those who have done their best to put the city in a state of rebellion and those who have tried to burn it to the ground. I suppose your friends had a purpose in telling you what was not true.”
“I take my friends’ words in preference to yours, boy,” was the angry answer. “Who are you that come to take our country away from us—the country that we tried so hard to liberate from the iron grasp of Spain? The land is ours, and no Americans shall govern us. We will fight to the 290 last,—from the cities to the towns, and from the towns to the villages, and then to the mountains, from one island to another,—and you shall never conquer us, no matter how large an army you send from across the ocean. But, bah, I am talking to a mere boy, when I might have better sense.” And turning on his heel the under-officer strode away, out of humor with himself as well as with Larry.