r the protecting
embankment, picked up the fallen flag, and, amid yells of approbation
from his comrades, restored it to its former position. Then,
half-turning and swinging his hat defiantly above his head, the daring
young trooper sprang back to his place of safety. As he did so,
something seemed to go wrong, and instead of landing on his feet he
pitched awkwardly, and then lay motionless in the bottom of the trench.

At the same moment trumpet and bugle along the whole line sounded the
order "cease firing," and once more the white flags of truce fluttered
in the sunlight. Santiago was again summoned to surrender; and this
time the summons was so seriously considered that, two days later, it
was obeyed. Although no one knew it at the time, the last shot of the
campaign had been fired and the war was virtually ended.

But the last shot had stricken down brave, generous, light-hearted
Rollo Van Kyp just as he had covered himself with glory and was within
a hair's-breadth of safety; for, as Lieutenant Norris knelt anxiously
beside his friend, the gallant young trooper lay as though dead, with
blood streaming over his face.

CHAPTER XXIX

TWO INVALID HEROES

Rollo Van Kyp, carefully lifted from the bloody trench in which he had
fought and suffered so cheerfully, was borne to the rear, and the
assistant surgeon of his regiment accompanied him to the hospital at
Siboney. Ridge Norris wanted to do this, but his duties would not
permit of his absence, for officers were becoming scarce, and as yet no
one knew but that the fighting might be resumed at any moment. So he
watched the departure of the ambulance with a heavy heart, and the
whole troop shared his sorrow at the loss of their well-loved comrade.

The next day the assistant surgeon returned and reported Rollo's wound
apparently so serious that there was little hope for him. "There was
just one chance," he added, in answer to Lieutenant Norris's anxious
inquiry for details, "and, by good luck, I secured it for him at the
last moment. He would surely have died in Siboney, but if he can get
home and into a Northern hospital he may pull through. By the greatest
good fortune a Red Cross ship was about to start for the States with a
number of the worst cases; and, just as she was sailing, I managed to
get Van Kyp aboard. She was so crowded that they weren't going to take
him, until her skipper--as big-hearted a Yankee sailorman as ever trod
a deck--said