“They do not speak Spanish?” he asked, shrugging his shoulder expressively as much as to answer the question himself in the negative. It was better so; one could play the game better than two and the lads now knew that Maria was an adept in diplomacy, and could be depended upon to make a better and intelligent fight for their lives. That their lives were in danger was but too evident to the lads. The native soldiers still covered them with their rifles, and Colonel Salas had moved to Maria’s side as they had talked, leaving the line of fire quite clear. A word from him and a score of bullets would be tearing through their bodies. Did the officer believe that they were English? Had he already seen through the deception, and made up his mind to maneuver so as to kill them at the least risk to himself and men? Phil gauged the distance between himself and the insolent face of this young colonel and resolved that the word of command to his men to fire should be a dear one for the smiling colonel. CHAPTER XIII UNWELCOME COMPANIONS The lads indeed found themselves in an awkward predicament. Just the faintest thread really bound them to life, for they saw in the cruel expression in the eyes of the Filipino officer that nothing would delight him so much as to have these white men shot. Phil very much feared that in spite of his cordial words this boyish native had before now guessed the truth. However there was nothing to do but remain silent and inactive. Phil had a great desire to speak to Sydney in English, but he feared this dapper little Filipino might have learned enough of that language to understand what he might say. With his cold eye on the midshipmen the native officer gave a gruff command to his men behind him on the porch. Phil’s hand moved a hair’s breadth, and the revolver muzzle on his hip pointed squarely at the body of Colonel Salas, while his finger pressed ever so slightly the trigger. For the fraction of a second their eyes met. Then the lad saw with relief that the soldiers had lowered their guns and were filing through the door into the house. With a deft motion he allowed his revolver to slip noiselessly back into its holster. Colonel Salas had already turned and was leading the way up the steps, Maria and her brother following, and the midshipmen bringing up the rear. “Do you think he suspects us?” Sydney whispered. “He must,” Phil answered hurriedly. “Be careful, Syd,” he added anxiously. “We’ve got to fight our way out. There seems no other way. There are twenty of them against us two.” At the top of the steps Salas turned and looked questioningly at the midshipmen. Phil dared not meet his eye for fear that the little native would see the anxiety which he strove to hide. On the floor of the big room a cloth had been spread and a repast set out.