t
to be met and worsted in that furious conflict.

At last it was over. The Moro men had broken and fled, their yells dying
out in the distance.

Fully two dozen of the soldiers started to pursue. Prescott turned,
bawling an order to the bugler over the din. The notes of the bugle
recalled the soldiers.

"Men," shouted Lieutenant Prescott, "the first duty is to get the
wounded behind the trench and then into the house. Every man badly hurt
must have prompt attention."

Then, indeed, came the time to take account of what had happened.

Three of the soldiers already lay dead, their heads and bodies
frightfully gashed. Another, Bender, was dying from two knife thrusts
through his lungs.

Four more men were too badly hurt to help themselves. A dozen others had
wounds of varying degrees of seriousness but were able to reach shelter
unaided.

Uncle Sam had won the victory for the moment, but he had paid dearly for
it.

"I'm glad you gave me that word when you did, Sergeant," murmured
Private Hunter. "It steadied me. If it hadn't been for that I guess I'd
have been a goner by this time."

It was after three o'clock in the morning when Sergeant Overton felt
that he finally had a moment for free breathing.

"Sergeant," said the lieutenant, "your watch tour is long past. Lie down
and get some sleep."

"You're sure that I can be spared, sir?"

"Certainly; you can be called if you're needed."

To one not accustomed to war it might seem strange, but thirty seconds
after Hal had wrapped himself in his blanket he was deep in dreamless
slumber. He slept until the sun was fairly high. Then Prescott awoke
him.

"Kelly--Slosson--are they back, sir?" were Hal's first words, as he
threw aside his blanket.

"Back nearly three hours ago, Sergeant," smiled the officer. "It's
half-past eight. I've been occupied, and have missed my breakfast. Come
into the house and breakfast with me, Sergeant Overton. Sergeant
Dinsmore will look after things outdoors."

"Did--have you buried the Moros who fell?" questioned Hal, looking out
beyond the trench.

"The rascals sent over men with two lanterns, and asked permission to
carry off their casualties," explained the officer. "I let them do it."

"It must have given them a lot of work to do," muttered Hal.

"It did. I estimate their dead at thirty, and their badly hurt at forty
or more. We made it an expensive night for them."

"We paid a big price on our own part, sir," returned