"Oh! don't bother about that—yet!" said Rob quietly. "If there happens to be a lot of men struck, why we'll show them how scouts learn to bandage wounds and render first aid to the injured. I'd do that for a Federal just as quick as for a rebel, because we're supposed to be neutrals in this Mexican mix-up, you understand. So we'll try and imagine ourselves Red Cross workers for the time being."
"Well, the fun's going to begin right away, I reckon!" Andy called out, as there came the sharp crack of a gun from up on the side of the hill which, before this, had been entirely free from the enemy.
"Whee! Hear that bullet let out a yell as it jumped by over our heads, did you?" gasped Tubby, trying to make himself as small as possible and not meeting with very much success, for reasons that all of his chums could easily understand.
There was an immediate scurrying around of the rebels, each man trying to find some place where he could be safe from the rain of lead that would soon be falling.
A number stuck to the cars, believing they could manage to lie low and escape damage; while others, like the four boys, preferred to trust to the outlying rocks that in places offered little harbors of refuge.
In five minutes there was quite an exchange of shots going on, so that things began to seem "pretty lively," as Andy called it.
Acting on the advice of Rob, all of them had spread out what linen bandages they carried in their packs, as well as other things calculated to be of use in case of wounds.
"If I had dreamed that we should have to play the part of field hospital," Rob remarked, "I would have made sure to bring an extra supply along. But in case we run short of bandages, why there's that big night-shirt Tubby fetched, under the foolish impression he was going to sleep like he does at home. And when that's gone we'll begin on his day shirt. Like enough it will fill the bill!"
Tubby hardly knew whether to take this in the light of a joke or not.
"Now, I don't mind giving up the useless sack in my pack, because several times I've been tempted to throw it away before some of you fellers began to josh me about it; but I do draw the line about handing over my spotted flannel shirt that I'm wearing right now to be torn into bandages, and wrapped about the arms of these dirty—er, I mean, brave señors who are fighting so hard."