He remounted and dashed back at full speed, ordering his horsemen when he met them to halt and be on the alert. Colonel Zegarra agreed to move out with all his troops, and if he found the enemy on the road, marching towards the defile, to hang on their rear. Then Tim set off again. He commanded his horsemen to await Colonel Zegarra; it seemed more important for the moment that the colonel should have his full number than that the party should press on to reinforce Mr. O'Hagan.
The head of the flanking column was only half a mile from the road when Tim dashed by. To some extent screened by trees and bushes, he became the target for the enemy's fire as he passed patches of open country. But he escaped unhurt, thanks to his speed and to the windings of the road, which caused his direction to alter frequently, and baffled the riflemen's aim. In a few minutes he was out of range, in a few more out of sight.
On approaching the defile, Tim heard sounds of heavy firing. The Prefect's attack was evidently being hotly pressed. He found the Mollendist force some distance farther east than he had expected. They occupied the rocks on either side of the road, and were firing along the defile. Just as Tim arrived he heard the distant roar of a gun, and a shell crashed high up among the rocks at his right hand. He slipped off his bicycle, and hurried to find his father.
Mr. O'Hagan greeted the boy with especial warmth.
"Pardo gave me a terrible scare when he told me he had got you," he said. "What happened?"
Tim related how he had been dealt with at the house.
"He had the cheek to come to you, then," he said. "Why didn't he go to the Prefect?"
"I suspect he did. He wanted to make sure of his price."
"The wretch said my price had gone up. What did he ask?"
"The hacienda!"