He would not be put off, and together Ben and he moved into the opening, Ben holding up a new handkerchief as he walked. The rebel at once halted, as if expecting them to come over to where he stood. "You come over here!" cried Gilbert, and waved his hand. There was a full minute's delay, and then of a sudden the rebel threw down his white flag and sped toward the house. At the same time three reports rang out, and Gilbert fell back, struck in the shoulder. "What did I tell you!" he gasped. "They are treacherous to the last degree!" And then the young Southerner fainted. As just mentioned, three reports had rung out, but only two had come from the house. The third came from Ralph Sorrel's weapon, and the man who had carried the pretended flag of truce fell dead in his tracks. The dastardly attack angered Ben beyond endurance, and leaving Gilbert resting comfortably on some cut cane, he leaped to the front. "Come, boys, we will root them out!" he cried, and ran on toward the house as fast as he could, firing as he went. Sorrel was at his heels, and the others fired, each "red-hot" as they afterward expressed it. The insurgents saw them coming and fired several shots, but nobody was struck, and in a trice the house was surrounded. Then Major Morris came bounding through a window, and it was Ben who cut his bonds with a pocket-knife. "I saw it all," exclaimed the major. "Go for them, men, every one of the rascals deserves death!" And stooping over the dead rebel, he took from his bosom a bolo and joined in the attack. "They are a pack of cowards--a mere set of camp followers." The major was right; the rebels in the house were no regularly organized body, and at the first sign of real peril they fled by the back way, over a ditch and straight for the nearest jungle. But our friends were determined that they should not escape thus easily, and pursued them for nearly half a mile, killing one more and wounding three others. Long afterward they learned that those who had thus forfeited their lives were bandits from the mountains back of San Isidro. They had joined the forces under General Aguinaldo, merely for the booty to be picked up in the towns through which the rebel army passed. As soon as the contest had come to an end, Ben hurried back to where he had left Gilbert. The wound from which the young Southerner was suffering was painful, but not dangerous. Yet it was likely to put Gilbert in the hospital for the best part of a month. "It's too bad--I thought I could see the thing through to the end," said Gilbert, shaking his head dolefully. "You'll have to take your dose as I did," answered Ben. "I am glad it is not serious. Our regiment couldn't afford to lose such a brave fellow as you." "Brave? Didn't I hang back until you proposed to go out alone, Ben? If anybody was brave, it was you," and then Gilbert turned his face away to conceal the pain that was coming on.