"Yes, in the right leg," answered the plucky boy, with a smile. "It knocked me down. Doesn’t hurt much, but I can’t seem to use my leg." "I’ll fix you all right," said Dick cheerily, though he felt far from happy, and bending while Henry sat up, he easily picked up his companion in the way he had been taught to use in carrying wounded men off the field. He took Henry’s left leg under his own left arm, and made the injured boy bend over his left shoulder. Then, grasping Henry’s left wrist with his right hand, Dick was up and again running towards the hut. The shooting kept up while Dick was bending over his chum, but when the natives saw him carrying away the fallen boy they redoubled their fire and their yells increased in proportion. Fortunately they were poor marksmen, and Dick reached the shack without further mishap. Here he deposited Henry on the dirt floor and reaching in his hunting-bag he brought forth a first-aid package. The wound was bleeding freely, and without hesitation Dick ripped the right trousers’ leg from the knee downward with his knife (the same one he had taken from Gonzales at Sanchez) and then with an expert hand he bound the wound up firmly. "I feel O.K. now, old chap, and you’d better squint outside and see what those rapscallions are up to." "They’ve quit shooting and there is no one in sight," said Dick, who crawled to the empty doorway and looked out across the flats towards the bend. [Illustration: Map Showing Position of Hut in Which Boys Took Refuge] "Do you reckon they’ve decided to let us alone?" "I don’t know, Henry, but I’ll know in a minute. I’m going out after our shotguns. We’re pretty poor soldiers to leave our weapons lying all around the country," and Dick’s grin was meant to convey the idea that the task he was about to undertake was not of much importance nor danger. "Don’t try it, Dick. Perhaps they are only waiting for us to show ourselves and then when we do they hope to pot us." But Dick had rushed out of the doorway before Henry finished speaking. He zigzagged his way across the open space to about fifty yards, the point where he had rescued Henry, and with his reappearance another fusillade began. As Dick reached the spot he saw the two guns lying within a few feet of each other, and between them and the enemy was a small clump of green bush.