"She is Francisco's mother," whispered Ronie, anxiously.
"Ay, lad; and he is Rhoades, the insurgent leader."
"Must we let him butcher her in cold blood and remain inactive?" asked Ronie, whose hot nature was aroused by this unwarranted treatment of a helpless captive.
"Hist!" warned Jack. "We are watched by an enemy in yon coppice."
Ronie saw nothing in the direction indicated by his companion, but under the circumstances he felt certain he was right, and he grasped his firearm more firmly, feeling that it would not be long before he would be obliged to use it. The voices of the speakers ahead had become silent, so that not a sound broke the stillness of the scene.
"What can we do, Jack?"
"I have been thinking lad, that it may be well for us to do a little scouting, in order to get a better idea of the situation. That fellow in the thicket has got to be disposed of before we can do much else. If you will lie here and not let any of them spring a surprise on you, I will see what I can do in the way of Indian warfare. I do not believe I have lost the little cunning I picked up in fighting the Igorrotos of Luzon."
Without waiting for Ronie's reply, Jack began to creep to their rear, moving so silently that our hero was not aware of his retreat until he had fairly left his side. The voice of the insurgent chief again fell on his ear, followed by the reply of the woman, which was spoken too low for him to distinguish. Jack had now disappeared, and he knew he was alone in the midst of enemies.
Five minutes dragged themselves slowly away without bringing any material change in the situation. Ronie had not discovered any sign of Jack, but twice he had seen a man's head thrust cautiously above the matted undergrowth where he knew one of their enemies lurked. Evidently the scout, for such he judged him to be, was getting uneasy and anxious to end the suspense. During the time he had heard a small body of horsemen ride up to where the insurgent leader and his prisoner were stopping.
"Jack told me at the end of five minutes to lift my cap on the muzzle above the rim of bushes," he mused. "The time must be up now. I think I will try it."