Phil had composed his ruffled feelings and listened eagerly while Major Marble was talking. His heart sank within him as there flashed through his mind thoughts as to whom Martinez might be. Maybe no less a personage than Aguinaldo himself, or General Rios, had been within his grasp. Small wonder that Captain Blynn was put out at his escape. Yet he could not have done otherwise with the girl’s beseeching, pleading eyes upon him. After leaving Major Marble’s quarters the lads took a turn around the small Spanish town, loitering before the many shops and gazing admiringly up at the great churches, gray with age. They finally hired a carramata, the native cab, and drove through the city and out on the military road, begun by the Spaniards years before but, as was the custom of the country, never finished. As they drove into the Plaza on their return they came face to face with Señor Espinosa, riding a blooded horse which was prancing and pawing the earth, and making vain attempts to unseat its rider. Espinosa drew rein and bowed pointedly and courteously to the Americans. “Señores,” he called eagerly, “may I have a word with you?” Phil ordered his cochero to stop, while Espinosa dismounted, throwing his reins to a small native gamin near by. The native advanced to the carriage hat in hand and with as much ceremony as if he were about to speak to some exalted personage. “I am extremely mortified at my actions of yesterday,” he exclaimed in his fluent and grandiloquent Spanish. “I have just seen the general. I abjectly apologize for my rudeness. May I count upon the friendship of the señores?” he asked in a suave, appealing voice. Phil flinched unconsciously. He felt as if some reptile was drawing him toward him against his will. Espinosa’s eyes were mild and his smile was urbane; yet he felt that treachery was hidden behind this mask of friendliness. Espinosa read the struggle in the lad’s eyes and for an instant the mildness died in his own and a savage gleam took its place, but Phil’s gaze had wandered, and this vision of the true man was lost. “I don’t bear you any ill will for that,” Phil replied, his voice unconsciously accenting the last word. “I suppose you felt you had been cheated of your victory over Colonel Martinez.” Then the lad stopped suddenly, a question trembling on his lips. Why should he not ask it? Wherein was the harm? “Who was the girl with him?” Phil suddenly questioned. Espinosa’s face paled and in his eyes fear crept. “The girl,” he gasped, “was there a girl?” Phil nodded. “Yes, and her small brother; they came on the steamer with us.” “And escaped with Martinez,” Espinosa exclaimed excitedly. “I didn’t see her; it was too dark. While I was struggling I thought I heard a woman’s scream, but afterward I saw only Martinez.” Phil saw the native was unduly agitated. What did it mean? How and why had the presence of this woman so greatly excited him?