“When I give the word, you jump for those rifles and belts,” Phil said in a low, intense voice, glancing covertly at the terrified girl at his side. “I am going to jam the steering quadrant. When you get the guns,” he continued, “take cover behind the boats. It may cost us our lives, but anything is better than imprisonment among these people.”
O’Neil and Sydney breathed a gasping assent to the bold plan. Phil watched carefully the quadrant; he saw it move slowly over until it was hard astarboard. He reached down, grasping the boy’s block of wood under his foot, then slid it slowly, amid the terrific noise of a passing shell, toward the quadrant. He knew the wedge would hold the rudder over and the “Negros,” unable to steer, would ground on the edge of the channel, thus leaving her helpless to be captured by the cruiser. He opened his mouth to give the signal for his companions to act, when a shrill warning cry sounded in his ears and he was roughly drawn back into his chair and the wedge dropped from his hands a foot from its goal.
CHAPTER III
A LEAK OF MILITARY INFORMATION
Brigadier-General Wilson sat at his desk in the headquarters building at Palilo. In the spacious corridors outside orderlies hurried to and fro, carrying messages from the several officers of the staff whose offices joined that of the general.
Before him was a chart of his military district, and while he pondered he juggled a score or more of different colored pins with little tags attached to them. Those pins with blue heads represented soldiers of his command in the field against the enemy while the ones with the green heads were the ladrones or insurrectos, whom he had been fighting without success for nearly six months.
“They jump about as if they were mounted in balloons,” he exclaimed testily as he drew out several green-headed pins and replaced them in accordance with recent information in other localities on the map. The big headquarters clock ticked away in silence, while the gray-haired veteran again lapsed into thought over his problem.
“Here are two regiments in the field,” he complained querulously; “Gordon with two companies at San Juan, Baker with a company at Binalbagan, Anderson and a battalion at Barotoc, Huse and a company at Estancia, Pollard with two companies at Kapiz, Shanks with three companies at Carles, Stewart with his rough-riders at Dumangas and Bane with his two battalions as a flying column. That ought to give us some results, and yet what have we to show for it?”
The general raised his thoughtful eyes, as his orderly’s step sounded on the soft matting at his side.
“A telegram,” he exclaimed with a show of interest. “Tell Major Marble I wish to see him,” he added, tearing open the yellow envelope.
“Whew!” he whistled in sudden consternation as he read the unwelcome message. “They not only avoided Gordon but attacked San Juan in his absence, cutting up ten of his men left to guard the town. This thing has got to be stopped. There is a leak somewhere and I am going to put my hand on it before I send out another expedition.”