For a week the truce continued, and while the Spaniards strengthened their defences, the Americans lengthened their lines, built roads over which to bring up their artillery, provided their camps with bomb-proof shelters, and received reinforcements. Knowing all this, General Toral still refused to surrender, and during the afternoon of Sunday, July 10th, the white flags were taken down and a bombardment of the city was begun. For two hours, or until the coming of darkness, a heavy cannonade with brisk rifle-fire was kept up by both sides, but with little damage to either. With sunrise of the following morning it was resumed. "I wonder what it is all for?" asked Rollo Van Kyp, as he crouched in the hot trench, industriously firing his carbine at the flashes from the Spanish rifle-pits. "We don't seem to hit them, and they certainly don't hit us. Now if Teddy would only order a charge, it would be something sensible. But this play-fighting is disgusting!" Just then a Spanish shell burst close above the heads of this particular group of Rough Riders, and a fragment from it cut the staff of the troop guidon, planted in the soft earth, so that the silken flag fell outward. In an instant Rollo had leaped over the protecting embankment, picked up the fallen flag, and, amid yells of approbation from his comrades, restored it to its former position. Then, half-turning and swinging his hat defiantly above his head, the daring young trooper sprang back to his place of safety. As he did so, something seemed to go wrong, and instead of landing on his feet he pitched awkwardly, and then lay motionless in the bottom of the trench. At the same moment trumpet and bugle along the whole line sounded the order "cease firing," and once more the white flags of truce fluttered in the sunlight. Santiago was again summoned to surrender; and this time the summons was so seriously considered that, two days later, it was obeyed. Although no one knew it at the time, the last shot of the campaign had been fired and the war was virtually ended. But the last shot had stricken down brave, generous, light-hearted Rollo Van Kyp just as he had covered himself with glory and was within a hair's-breadth of safety; for, as Lieutenant Norris knelt anxiously beside his friend, the gallant young trooper lay as though dead, with blood streaming over his face. CHAPTER XXIX TWO INVALID HEROES Rollo Van Kyp, carefully lifted from the bloody trench in which he had fought and suffered so cheerfully, was borne to the rear, and the assistant surgeon of his regiment accompanied him to the hospital at Siboney. Ridge Norris wanted to do this, but his duties would not permit of his absence, for officers were becoming scarce, and as yet no one knew but that the fighting might be resumed at any moment. So he watched the departure of the ambulance with a heavy heart, and the whole troop shared his sorrow at the loss of their well-loved comrade.