“I don’t understand,” exclaimed the aide incredulously; “how can you expect to hold this hill with but a company of soldiers? You have just said that General Ruiz will concentrate his entire force here to obtain these guns. We must retreat carrying these guns with us.” He opened his mouth to give the order, but Phil raised his hand desperately to be heard. “That would be unwise,” he cried earnestly. “My companion and I can mount these guns. We have ammunition here in abundance. These thirty guns can hold La Mesa against the rebel army.” The aide’s face was a study. He knew nothing about machine guns; and like all ignorant men he believed the Americans were deceiving him. Phil thought quickly. If they retreated carrying the guns with them, the government forces would be reënforced by their addition but the rebel army was a match for them even with this powerful acquisition. If they could mount the guns and allow the rebel army to assault La Mesa in ignorance of what was awaiting them on the top, the rebel forces would receive a check which would be a terrible blow to their cause; the murderous stream of lead would strike terror to the simple unsuspecting hearts of their soldiers. If he could but show the aide how important it was to his cause to retain these men and hold the hill! Motioning Sydney, Phil bent over a gun, raising it quickly to its tripod; adjusted the firing mechanism deftly and wiped off the heavy coating of preservative grease from its intricate working parts. Sydney was busy at a second gun. Phil stripped the cover from a box of ammunition. His heart beat joyfully. It was already loaded in the belts ready to be run through the automatic mechanism of the Colt gun’s breech. He held up a long string of cartridges closely laid within the “feed-tape.” He took the end and with skilful fingers fed the first cartridge to the steel maw of the gun; a string of others trailed away along the tape to the box beneath the breech of the gun. “This gun is ready for action,” he cried, turning anxiously to the surprised and delighted aide. “This is worth a whole company of soldiers and there are thirty more waiting to be made ready.” “Stay with these guns,” the aide ordered as he precipitously dashed away. “I shall send reënforcements.” The lads worked with trembling fingers. Their anxiety nearly stifled them. The attack might begin at any moment. They knew that their soldier allies could not be depended upon if the attack began before the guns were ready. They had just raised the last gun to its tripod when the silence was disturbed by a sullen boom of warning from Tortuga Hill: the rebels were advancing. CHAPTER XVI THE ASSAULT