The lads were stunned. But a half hour ago, they were free men, enjoying their precious liberty in the bright world outside; full of boyish enthusiasm for their discoveries. Now they were held captive by a cruel tyrant who hated their race and to whom they had given good cause. He might, without a qualm of feeling, have them shot as spies. Their country was powerless to help them. In undertaking this duty they had relinquished their claim upon the protection of the United States. O’Neil was the first to recover from these despondent thoughts. He glanced about their narrow prison, but his gaze failed to discover aught encouraging, so it returned and rested compassionately on the two lads. They had thrown themselves full length on the rude benches that lined the walls of their cell and had given themselves up to melancholy reflections. “It won’t do, sir,” O’Neil said, appealingly, to Phil, as the young man looked up with an expression of utter dejection; “you mustn’t give in, Mr. Perry; we ain’t dead yet, and what’s more, sir, we ain’t a going to be, either. Mrs. O’Neil’s son John has been in as tight places before and has come out with a whole hide---- Which is more than he is going to do this time,” he added with a grin, showing a deep cut in his thigh. “That little dago that I knocked down poked his bayonet in there.” In a moment the boys were all interest, forgetting their own troubles in their anxiety for their wounded companion. Phil pulled a first-aid bandage from his pocket and held it up in triumph. “They took everything else from me,” he exclaimed; “your new revolver, too, Syd.” “Yes, and the first time we carried them,” Sydney answered ruefully, as they made the boatswain’s mate bare his wound, which they washed and dressed carefully. They had hardly finished their solicitous attentions when the door of the cell was unlocked and flung open: Colonel Juarez appeared. He stood in the doorway, his arms folded, a cruel smile curling his weak mouth. “You defeated me once,” he jeered, “but I shall see that you will never get a chance again.” The crestfallen lads only stared. They could find no voice to answer. The hatred in his eyes appalled them. “No doubt you believed yourselves very clever,” he continued, irritated at the silence of his hearers, “but if it will make you feel any better, I can tell you that your brilliant work has but delayed us. We shall possess the arms soon enough.” Both lads were startled at this intelligence. Could it be true? Phil could not conceive how Lazar would have the audacity to deliberately allow the arms to be taken. Where were Marshall and Morrison? Then he realized that they were in ignorance of the true character of their superior officer. They would suspect nothing. Why had he not put them on their guard?