In times of great physical risk the mind sometimes remains almost dormant during the most dangerous part of the performance. So it was that, almost without knowing it, the Dreadnought Boys crossed the dip in the road and emerged unscratched in the government lines. They were rudely recalled to themselves, however, by a sharp voice almost in their ears. Looking up, they saw a dark-skinned soldier, in a shabby uniform standing over them. His bayonet was fixed, and he looked formidable. “What did he say?” whispered Herc. “Something like ‘Speak, or I’ll shoot,’” rejoined Ned, holding up one hand in token that it was empty. “Americanos,” he said. The soldier seemed to comprehend, and nodded. Beckoning, he led the Dreadnought Boys through a thick grove to where a group of officers stood chatting. “You’d think they were going to play tennis to look at them!” exclaimed Herc. “Yes, if Colonel Lazard is worrying, they are not,” agreed Ned. Fortunately the leader of the halted government infantry and artillery spoke English, so that Ned was able to explain to him his errand. Many and loud were the congratulations the Americans received on their bravery in daring to cross the road. Such a deed was, in fact, beyond the comprehension of the Costavezans, brave enough though some of them were. Ned noted with satisfaction that fully twenty machine guns and a good-sized body of infantry were scattered about under the trees. Their commanding officer explained coolly enough that he had ordered a halt till he heard from Colonel Lazard. “But suppose he could not have communicated with you?” asked Ned. “Then,” said the officer, with a shrug, “we should have had to remain here.” “Nice sort of soldiers,” thought Ned. But now that they had definite orders to advance on the hill, the troops became animated enough. In five minutes the guns were ready to be rushed into position, and the infantry was so arranged as to surround the precious implements of warfare and protect them. Ned’s blood thrilled as the advance was sounded. That what was to come would be real warfare he had no doubt. As the government troops advanced up the road, the expected happened. From the insurgent guns to the north a raking fire opened. The infantry surrounding the guns replied, but their fire was half-hearted. In fact, there was no object in wasting time and ammunition in retaliating. To gain the hill in the speediest possible time was the object of the dash. “This is warm work, Herc!” exclaimed Ned, as they stumbled forward with the troops. Beside the Dreadnought Boy one of the infantrymen had just fallen, badly wounded. Ned picked him up and placed him on a gun carriage.