"It may be that Sergeant Terry is having trouble in town," muttered Captain Cortland, wholly alert in a second. "In any case we must let these Moros see a show of military force. Freeman, detail thirty of your men and let Lieutenant Holmes march them into Bantoc in quick time. Each man to carry fifty rounds of ammunition." "Very good, sir. "Lieutenant Holmes, you will go first of all to Cerverra's shop, unless the firing seems to be in another direction. But remember that if trouble breaks loose we will take care of it from here, and that your essential orders are not changed until you receive them from me, or from your company commander." "Very good, sir," replied young Holmes, saluting. Freeman and his second lieutenant hurried away to execute the orders without loss of time. At the sound of the shots many of the men from barracks had run out into the street to see if they could find any explanation of the hostile sounds. "Second platoon, C Company, fall in!" rang the order, repeated three or four times. That caught several of the curious ones in the street, calling them to the parade ground. Acting First Sergeant Hal Overton, B Company, was among those in the street. And he was the first to catch sight of a horse coming up the road at a wavering gallop. "We'll soon know," the Army boy called to those nearest him. "This looks like a messenger coming." The man who was astride the horse, and who was attired in white duck blouse and trousers, was bending forward over the neck of the animal. "Second platoon, fall in!" rang Greg Holmes's command on the parade ground, showing how quickly military orders may be carried out. "The messenger is bleeding," cried Hal. "I can see the stains on his white clothing. And the horse has been hit, too!" "Trouble with a big 'T,'" muttered Private Kelly. Sergeant Hal said no more. He walked quickly down the road as horse and rider drew nearer. The mount was running more feebly now. Fifty feet away from the young sergeant the animal pitched suddenly, staggered, then fell. For an instant it looked as though the rider would also be stretched in the dust. Then he recovered, leaped painfully away from the horse--and just then Hal Overton reached and caught him. "Shall I carry you, friend?" demanded the Army boy, for the stranger was a white man, doubtless an American. At the stranger's belt hung a holster, the flap unbuttoned. He was wild-eyed and breathing hard, but there was no sign of cowardice in the man's sternly set face. Bloodstains showed over three wounds in the trunk of his body. The right shoulder, also, had been touched. "I can walk--but give me your arm," gasped the wounded man. "Take me to your commanding officer!" Hal started, but had not far to go, for Captain Cortland was coming forward on the run. "Take that man to the porch of barracks," called the captain, whose eye, practised in wounds, saw much. "Don't make him walk far."