“But your boat has not returned,” Maria insisted. “You must sleep here to-night, then you can return in the morning.”
Phil knew that O’Neil would not return until he had reached a depth of water in the river too shallow for the gunboat to pass. How far would he have to go? Maybe to the cañon beneath the insurgent stronghold. In that case he could scarcely expect them before morning. A slight uneasiness filled his thoughts, but he tried to put it aside, for O’Neil’s ready resourcefulness could get them out of almost any difficulty.
“It is important, señorita,” Phil declared firmly, “that I should return to-night. I will leave a message for my men to follow down on their return. May I have a boat or a couple of horses?” he asked.
Maria spoke a few words to an attendant.
“Lopez will guide you,” she answered. “I am sorry you will not stay, but you, of course, know best.”
Señor Rodriguez, after he had been told of the miraculous escape of the explorers, shook the lads warmly by the hand, and thanked them for taking care of his two children.
“It was the other way around,” Sydney cried in admiration. “Your daughter really saved us and herself, too. If it had not been for her we should have blundered into a fight with the ladrones and been killed for our pains.”
The old man shook his head thoughtfully.
“Salas, eh? So he is with Espinosa. The two blackest rogues we have in the islands. You are lucky to be free of them.”
“How many men have you guarding your plantation?” Phil inquired, his mind bent upon the possibility of an attack.