Phil thought quickly. Here might be an opportunity to gain for America the gratitude of this insurgent leader. If Ruiz was to win the city and set himself up as dictator, this act could be used with great force to defeat the intrigues of Juarez and La Fitte and Company. But could he depend upon earning this man’s gratitude? Would he not forget and vent his venom on the Americans notwithstanding? The more he thought the more complex the situation appeared. What did he know of the strength of Ruiz’s enemies? Phil had heard rumors that they were negotiating for war vessels; with these against them, the insurgents could only hope to win by gaining the crews of the ships to their side by golden bribes; if they remained loyal to the government, Ruiz would not dare enter the city. The war-ships could train their guns on his army and force him to evacuate. “I shall give you until sunrise to-morrow,” the general added sternly, “then if you agree, I shall have you set free, but shall retain your companions as hostages for your good faith until the arms are in my hands. If not”--a sinister smile and an expressive shrug of his thin shoulders completed his meaning. The Americans were led back to their cell and as the door closed upon them again, Sydney turned anxiously to Phil. “What did he say?” he questioned. Phil told his eager companions the one chance of escape from the fate awaiting them. “We can’t accept it,” Phil concluded. “It will look as if we were afraid to die, and to do this we shall become Lazar’s accomplices, for I feel assured he has allowed the arms to be stolen from the legation.” “Mr. Perry,” O’Neil interrupted, “I know these dagos, having shipped with them both afloat and ashore. They ain’t going to shoot us. It’s a bluff--stage acting. You stand pat to-morrow morning. They may line us up against a wall and point their guns at us, but they ain’t a going to shoot. They know if they did the United States government would blow the whole blamed country out of existence.” The ring of truth in the sailor’s words forcibly impressed the two lads. Could this be true? Had they been tortured to make them betray themselves? But the cruel look in the face of Ruiz when he turned and left them only a short time before, surely did not bear out this interpretation of their position. “I hope you are right, O’Neil,” Phil said, looking gratefully at the cheerful sailorman, “but I fear these men are capable of carrying out their threat.” Escape was impossible--they were as secure in this prison as if they were in the old Bastile. The footfall of their guards told of their vigilance. The heavy oaken door was doubly barred and locked on the outside. Their midday meal lay upon the floor untasted by the two lads. Food would have choked them; but O’Neil ate as calmly as if he were aboard ship.