In the next second Espinosa leaped toward him. Phil was stunned by a stinging blow; but before it could be repeated O’Neil interposed and Espinosa had measured his length on the ground.
“Where did Colonel Martinez go?” Phil asked quietly.
“I didn’t see,” O’Neil answered, his face as solemn as that of a judge.
Phil smiled and put out his hand. The two men exchanged clasps. “I believe he would have done as much for us,” Phil said.
Before the sun had risen above the sea to the eastward, the fight was over. But few of the enemy had escaped. Asking no quarter, fighting to the last man, they had died as they had lived. Two hundred rifles were the spoils of the fight.
Captain Blynn and the midshipmen were seated after their victory on the bloody battle-field, while the lads gave a hurried account of their capture.
Suddenly from the grass a horribly disfigured face confronted them. It was Espinosa. His cunning gave him counsel that he must control his ungovernable temper. He could gain nothing by accusing these Americans of wilfully aiding Martinez in his escape. “I am sorry to inform you, señor captain, that Colonel Martinez escaped. These gentlemen can tell you the details. I was about to kill him. They doubtless had good reasons for permitting him to escape.”
Captain Blynn turned quickly to the midshipmen, a surprised look on his face at the words of his guide.
“Is this true?” he asked angrily.
Phil felt as he had before the court-martial that had tried him for disobeying orders.