It needed no more talking to show this. Already in this brief attack the men had sustained a heavier loss than in all the fighting of the day.
"Where's Young Glory?" was the cry.
There was a look of dismay on everyone's face as they glanced round and saw that he was missing.
"The boy gone!" cried Dan, frantically. "Arrah, then, it's meself's goin' too!"
And breaking away from those who tried to hold him, Dan fairly flew till he came to the spot beneath the fort where his comrades had just fallen.
"Not there!" he cried. "It's a prisoner he is! An' shure, how could they take him prisoner? It's not one of them Spaniards has ventured out. An', begorra, he wouldn't be afther takin' himself prisoner!"
Dismissing this last idea as unreasonable, Dan, who had miraculously escaped the enemy's bullets, ran back to his comrades.
"It's the last we've seen of him."
Now, where was Young Glory?
In the attack that had been made on the fort the boy had been at the extreme right—that is, the point of view nearest the sea. Whilst his comrades were aimlessly throwing themselves against the walls of the fort, Young Glory was otherwise engaged.