"Very good, Sergeant Overton," answered Noll's voice, precise and formal as though on parade, but there was a note of joy, none the less, in Terry's voice. "I will go now, senor," suggested Vicente Tomba, struggling slightly to free himself as the squad again halted close to the Army boy. "You will do nothing of the sort, Tomba," retorted Overton dryly. "You are going to Fort Franklin as a military prisoner." "This is ingratitude!" snarled the little brown man, looking decidedly crestfallen. "No; it is not. I owe you nothing for my freedom. Corporal Hyman, you will take charge of the prisoner. See that he does not escape." "Very good, Sergeant," replied Hyman, motioning to two of the men to place themselves on either side of the prisoner. "Now, Sergeant Terry, inform me how you came to be here with this detachment?" "I was sent into town, Sergeant Overton, under orders from Captain Cortland. You were missed from parade, and the captain knew that could not happen with you, unless there was something decidedly wrong. So, at seven this evening, the captain directed me to take this detachment and scour the town for you. If we did not find you by half-past nine I was to report back to the post by messenger, and a larger detachment, under an officer, was to be sent in." "What time is it now?" "About nine o'clock." "We shall be back, then," nodded Hal, "within the time mentioned in your orders. But I shall leave some of the detachment here until Captain Cortland has acted upon the report that I shall make." At that moment Sergeant Hal, glancing into Cerverra's store, caught sight of the bright, eager eyes of the proprietor. "Corporal Hyman, arrest that man, also," commanded young Overton sharply, pointing into the shop. "The fellow's name is Cerverra, and he had a part in the plot against me." With two other soldiers Hyman darted into the shop, from which they soon came out with Cerverra, who protested strongly. Meanwhile Vicente Tomba had discovered a cause of discomfort. "Senor Sergente," he complained, "during our struggle in the cellar you knocked my cigarettes from my hand. I beg that you let one of your soldiers take this piece of money into a shop and buy me more cigarettes." "Shall I do it, Sergeant?" inquired Hyman. "Tomba," laughed Hal, "after all the trouble that that last cigarette cost you I should think you'd feel like cutting out the habit forever. I know I would drop any habit that had gotten me into such a mess. Had you not wanted to smoke underground I would not have had such a fine chance to upset you. Very likely you would have won, instead of me." "But I want cigarettes, now," retorted Tomba almost fiercely. "It is ungenerous to deprive me of them." "Shall I let a man get them for him?" asked Hyman. "Yes; if he insists," nodded Hal. "What an idiot a man is to allow cigarettes to make such a slave of him that he can't pass an hour without one."