“Guilty. To be shot to-morrow at sunrise,” the colonel replied grimly. Then turning toward the Americans, he surveyed them critically, a cunning gleam in his sharp black eyes. “You may speak,” he said condescendingly, dismissing the court with an eloquent gesture, and waving back peremptorily the awaiting guards. Phil endeavored to collect his scattered wits. He knew that his appeal would be their last chance for life. “Well,” the general demanded impatiently, “be quick, I have but little time.” Phil felt his body break into a cold perspiration. His heart sank within him. He saw his words must fall on barren soil. The whole attitude of this powerful, cruel leader was unfriendly. “General Ruiz,” he commenced, intense earnestness in his young face, “you must not do this terrible deed. We have not intentionally done you harm. Our mission in your camp is not one of war, but only diplomatic in character. I cannot tell you its nature. Believe me when I say we are innocent of crime against the laws of war. We are not your enemies.” “You are not my enemies!” exclaimed the leader savagely, his voice rising in anger. “Then why did you capture my machine guns? Explain that, if you can?” Phil was silent. He could not tell this man the reason; to do so would betray his country’s policy. “Ah, you see your arguments are not convincing,” he cried triumphantly. “Must I allow those who are not my enemies to capture my property, then spy on my military movements? Shall I be powerless to lay by the heels such fellows, and shoot them as they richly deserve?” Then a thought seemed to strike him; he led Phil away out of ear-shot of his companions. “I shall grant a reprieve under one condition.” “And that is?” exclaimed the boy, his hopes rising. “That you cause my guns to be delivered inside my lines,” he answered. The lad’s hopes vanished. That he could not do. He had rather die first. He shook his head determinedly. “I can’t do that,” he replied, “even if I would.” The general, misinterpreting the meaning implied in the boy’s words, hastily explained: “The arms are this minute in La Boca, but the government and your ship are so vigilant that I dare not risk attempting to bring them here by water, and by land is quite out of the question. If I release you, you could find a safe way to evade detection under the protection of your flag.” The price was tempting to the despairing American youth: three lives for a cargo of arms, but the vileness of the act which he must commit to obtain this reward was repulsively horrible. Phil tried hard to control his indignation. He felt that to show this man how much he despised him and his clemency would only hasten their end. Ruiz believed the lad was wavering. “If I release you now, by to-night you will be on board the ‘Connecticut’ and by to-morrow I shall receive the guns and enter the city at the head of my victorious army.”