“If that is so they can’t be far off,” I rejoined. “We must be more careful than ever.”
"If only we could catch up to them, get around them, and warn our fellows!" remarked Alano, his black eyes sparkling.
“It’s easy to see you’re a rebel,” I said, laughing.
“And why not—if my father is one? Come, what do you say?”
“I am with you, if it can be done. But we mustn’t run into needless danger, Alano.”
“We will take care, Mark.”
Luckily, the sun had gone under the clouds, so it was not so warm when we resumed our journey, after the negro women had supplied us with the best meal at their command. They smiled broadly when Alano told them he was a rebel sympathizer, and each declared her husband had joined General Garcia’s army several weeks previously.
The road now led along the southern edge of a deep ravine, bordered upon either side with wild plantains and cacao trees, with here and there an occasional palm. The highway was stony, and presently Alano called a halt.
“Hark!” he said, holding up his hand; and we listened, to discern the tramping of horses' hoofs some distance ahead.
“There are a good many horses,” I said. “Perhaps it is the Spanish detachment.”