“What do you want?” called one of them.
“What shall we tell them?” Lieut. Sancho whispered to Jack.
“Tell them to let the teacher and her scholars out of there at once or we will dynamite the place,” replied Jack without hesitation.
“I’ll tell them that if they don’t, we shall drop a bomb from the aeroplane,” whispered the lieutenant.
“That’s a good idea. Let’s hope it will scare them into releasing the children and their teacher.”
Lieut. Sancho shouted his ultimatum at the men at the schoolhouse windows, at the same time leaning down as if to pick up some sort of weapon. Doubtless the unfamiliarity of such a war machine as an aeroplane had something to do with it; but at any rate, after some anxious deliberation, during which the aeroplane hovered at closer range, the door was opened and the teacher and her little flock emerged.
“Now run to the town. Run for your lives,” cried Jack as they came out, and the pretty girl and her pupils were not slow to obey the injunction.
In the meantime the Federals, withdrawn to a little distance, had viewed the operations with amazement. They had been too much excited by the chase to notice the aeroplane till it was at close range. Now they gazed at it with wonder and then broke into a cheer. At first Jack was astonished at this enthusiasm, but then he suddenly recollected that inscribed on the machine’s upper and lower planes were the arms of the Mexican Republic.
“Viva! Viva, Madero!” yelled the regulars, as the aeroplane swung above them.
“What are you going to do with those rascals in the schoolhouse?” yelled down Lieut. Sancho to the officer in charge of the Federals as the great winged machine sailed majestically by over their heads.