But the Filipinos were not going to let them escape thus easily, and coming up on the double-quick, a detachment began to search the bushes, at the same time calling on the Americans to surrender if they wanted to save their lives.
With Larry limping painfully, and both Luke and Boxer groaning in spite of their efforts to keep silent, the Americans looked about for some spot which might prove a safe hiding-place. But the ground here was level and the jungle rather spare, and for those who were wounded to climb trees was out of the question.
“We’ll have to make a stand, I’m afraid,” said 307 Ben, looking to his pistol to see if it was fully loaded. “They are coming— Hark!”
The young captain broke off short, as a loud shouting from the road interrupted him. Then came a volley of musketry, followed by a steady stream of shots.
“We’ve got them this time, boys!” came in a ringing, English-speaking voice. “Forward, and don’t let a man of them escape. On to San Isidro!”
“Our troops!” cried Larry. “Oh, God be praised that they are coming this way!”
“Yes, yes, our troops!” ejaculated Ben. “And what is more, my regiment!” The revulsion of feeling was so great that he felt like dancing a jig.
The shouting and firing now increased, until it was almost upon them. Then followed a rush into the woods, and the little party found itself face to face with a score of Filipinos.
At first our friends were greatly alarmed, and Ben and Larry did their best to defend themselves by firing as rapidly as possible at the Tagals as they appeared. But the enemy was retreating, and gave the little party scant attention. Then 308 came a yell close at hand, and in a few seconds a squad of American soldiers burst through the thicket.
“Dan Casey!” cried Ben, as he recognized the Irish volunteer.