Phil glared at his tormentor, a bitter hatred in his eyes. How cleverly had this half-breed played upon the credulity of the Americans! For months this despicable native had ruled over both the warring parties; on one hand controlling the native bands of insurgents, telling them how, when and where to attack their enemy and then by his plausible words and treacherous cunning had exerted sufficient influence over General Wilson and his aides to enable him to so dispose the scattered American troops as to make them impotent, helpless against the insurgent ambushes and attacks. The lad noticed with a certain satisfaction that the native wore his left arm in a sling. Was that then the effect of his shot the night of the meeting of the Katipunan society? How he blamed himself for not having taken a more careful aim; he remembered with disappointment that when he had pulled the trigger of his revolver, his aim had been to the left of Espinosa’s body. Phil’s gaze was not lost on the half-breed. With a snarl he glanced down at his almost helpless arm. “For this I took Rodriguez’s life with my own hands, although Garcia had been chosen for the deed,” he exclaimed darkly, “and for this I shall force his daughter to become the wife of Manuel Espinosa.” Phil gasped, a flood of angry blood mounting to his temples. “It was I who fired the shot,” the lad cried exultantly, “and the next time you won’t get off so easily.” Espinosa in sullen rage regarded the angry midshipman through his slit-like eyes. “You?” he cried in unfeigned surprise. “How did you get there?” “I was there,” Phil replied quickly, a keen satisfaction entering his thoughts at being able to beard the lion in his den, “and afterward exposed you to the general--but,” he asked suddenly, “why did you desert? If you hadn’t we would have had a pleasant little hanging party in the Plaza the next morning.” Espinosa was evidently enraged at the lad’s daring words. “You are brave,” he said suddenly, a spark of suspicion coming into his mind, “to speak this way before me knowing that I can have you hung, or tortured, by simply giving the order.” “I know your yellow soul too well,” Phil declared in answer, “to believe that anything I might say now would influence the plan for revenge which you have already made. But I am curious to know why you left Palilo so suddenly. Did you believe that Rodriguez would betray you?” The outlaw glared at the midshipman, his hands twitching longingly to take forcible hold on his tormentor. “Because of that shot,” Espinosa answered finally, “I feared there might have been an enemy at the meeting and I feared Captain Blynn’s hand,--I would give a box of old Rodriguez’s gold to have him here a prisoner,” he added, a flash of terror in his eyes. “He may be here any moment now,” Phil said quietly. Then he would have bitten off his tongue as he saw the sudden gleam of suspicion in his enemy’s eyes.