Another command and every man's sabre flashed in the air.
Raising his own sabre aloft, the captain was about to give another command, when there was the sound of a single shot from the rear and the captain's sabre went flying from his hand, struck by a rifle ball.
"Carramba!" he cried. "Emboscado!" meaning "an ambush," and putting spurs to his horse he turned and fled in the direction from which he had come, followed by the entire band, while the Americans fired a volley into the air.
"They'll never stop running," laughed the corporal, "until they reach home—wherever that is."
"And in the meantime we'll get out of here," said Mr. Black.
The men sprang to their feet and to their horses. At the same moment there came from the woods to the left the well-known whistle of the Broncho Rider Boys.
"It's Don!" cried Billie, as he gave the answering call, and an instant later Donald came into view through the trees, closely followed by half a score of Uncle Sam's troopers.
"Just too late," said Adrian.
"Too late for what?" queried Donald.
"To see a masterly retreat," and in a few words he told Donald what had occurred.