“There are over a thousand of these gugus here in the camp,” he exclaimed as Phil with difficulty arose and endeavored to stretch his cramped limbs. “I have been spying from the door there, and I see Lopez has encamped his men right at the top of the trail, and the men who were there have been sent somewhere else. The natives who are guarding us are our own men, and one of ’em tried to stick his bayonet in me when I asked him for some water to wash in. I wish they were not so careful of appearances,” he added with a grim smile. This was certainly cheering news. Lopez then had won his first point with the insurgent leader. Espinosa had believed his story. Lieutenant Tillotson still lay like a log, completely overcome from exhaustion, caused by his torture of yesterday. Phil looked with compassion on the weak, boyish face; he was breathing evenly, but his skin was of an unhealthy pallor. “He looks ill, sir,” O’Neil declared as Phil turned away with a sigh. “A few more days will do for him. He’s got too sensitive a nature for soldiering.” The doorway was darkened by the entrance of two natives. Phil regarded them coldly as they advanced, and led him not ungently by the arm out into the sunshine. There they cut his binding cords and gave both him and O’Neil a bucket of water to wash in. They had been on the point of arousing Tillotson by a cruel kick, but through Phil’s insistence, they left the shack without disturbing the sleeping man. After eating and enjoying a scanty breakfast, the two Americans surveyed with great interest the scenes about them. “Do you see that gun there, sir?” O’Neil exclaimed, suddenly nodding his head toward a Spanish howitzer mounted on the cliff just to the right of the trail. “It’s manned by Espinosa’s men!” “That’s bad,” Phil replied anxiously; “and you notice, it commands the river.” “Good-morning,” in Spanish from behind them caused Phil to swing about quickly and gaze into the amused but wicked eyes of Colonel Salas. “So we are to have the pleasure of your company as our guest, after all?” the Filipino continued tauntingly. “General Espinosa is making great preparations for your reception. It is needless for me to tell you how delighted he is that you have changed your mind. He was very angry at me for not insisting on your coming with me the other day.” Phil regarded the little native, a fine scorn in his eyes. He would have liked nothing better than to have answered him in the same ironical vein, but he realized that to do so and anger him would only make more difficult their position. “He will be here to pay his respects shortly,” Salas continued ironically. “Ah! here he comes now.”