Sydney turned sick at the sight of a human being tortured beyond endurance and a fear rose in his mind as he thought of poor Phil in Espinosa’s hands. As he watched, the native appeared to hesitate in answering a question, but a wave of Lukban’s hand, bringing the attending natives and the water cup nearer, caused him to answer the question immediately. Once the native refused to answer and then despite his cries of fear and struggles almost superhuman, he was forced back upon his back, and his jaws pried rudely open with a stick, while the bamboo cup was poised menacingly above his open mouth. The next moment the cup was sent spinning from the native’s hand and Sydney had jerked the captive to his feet, and stood flushed with anger and excitement between him and his torturer. “I shan’t stand by and see any more of this torture,” he exclaimed forcefully. “It’s a disgrace for us to allow it.” Captain Blynn shrugged his shoulders, while Lukban glared angrily at the indignant champion. “But, señor, I must have that question answered,” he declared. “It will not injure him, and it may save us many lives.” “What was the question?” Captain Blynn asked. “Whether there is a third trail from the stronghold and how it may be reached,” he answered. “You see, captain, if there is we must guard it, for otherwise all will escape us.” Captain Blynn nodded, glancing amusedly at Sydney’s excited face. “I am afraid, major, that question must remain unanswered,” he said in a level tone, turning and leading the way out. Sydney turned the half-drowned prisoner over to one of Captain Blynn’s soldiers with orders to guard him carefully and to allow no interference by their native allies. By nine o’clock two hundred men had been embarked on the gunboat and five hundred more had started under the command of Captain Blynn along the trail leading up the river; Garcia as leader was at their head. In the party on the gunboat were General Wilson, Major Marble and Major Lukban; the latter, still sullen and angry with Sydney for his unwarranted presumption in making him discontinue his torture, stood with his former victim on the bridge of the “Mindinao.” Sydney headed the vessel into the narrow channel, cautiously picking his way through the numerous shoals; one minute the gunboat clung closely to the steep river bank on one side and the next it was scraping the overhanging trees on the other side. From the masthead the lookout kept the soldiers on shore in sight, and Sydney regulated his speed to just keep pace with them. He thought often and with grave concern of Phil. What luck had he had? His heartbeats quickened as he vaguely wondered if he were alive! He realized the terrible cruelty of the Filipino leader, and Espinosa had reason to hate the young naval man!