the pistols of these surly
fellows in case they evidenced a disposition to shoot. And the Army boy
did not intend to let this human bulwark get away from him.

"You have told them, Tomba?" queried Hal Overton, as soon as the
Filipino's voice ceased.

"Even so, senor."

"They understand?"

"If they do not, then they are idiots, Senor Sergente."

"Then tell them I am going to begin to count."

Again Tomba spoke, this time briefly.

The grip of young Overton's hand on the Filipino's shoulder tightened. A
slight shudder ran through the brown man's frame, but otherwise he
showed no fear.

"One!" began Hal.

From the surly ones beyond an angry babel of protest went up.

But Hal coolly disregarding the clamor, merely raised his own voice
enough to make it heard:

"Two!"

Sergeant Overton now let go of the Filipino's shoulder, but only to
throw his arm around the fellow's neck. Tomba's head was drawn back,
almost chokingly, against the boyish sergeant's shoulder.

"Three!"

Still no motion among the dark-skinned eight.

"Four!"

And then:

"Five! Tomba, your friends are cheerful about your fate, aren't they?
Six!"

Vicente Tomba spoke, sharply, hissingly. Now some stir was noticeable
among the wretches, though whether they meant to obey or to try to rush
the lone soldier was more than Overton could guess.

"Seven!"

Hal's voice, as steady as ever, must have carried conviction with it.
Certainly Tomba's shuddering had increased, though the little brown man,
no match in muscle for the white soldier, made not the least effort to
wrest himself away from that dangerous grip.

"Eight!" announced Hal Overton, his voice on the verge of absolute
cheeriness.

Again Tomba spoke, this time still more angrily.

There was a shuffling of feet, as the men moved further away. Then one
of the wretches stepped forward and threw open a door, just as Hal came
calmly out with:

"Nine!"

"Stop counting, senor," urged Vicente Tomba quite coolly. "These men
have yielded and are going. They will open the other door, pass through
it hurriedly, and leave the way open for you."

"Lucky for you, if they do, my Tagalo friend! I will suspend the count
for an instant only."

Another stone door was suddenly swung open, by one of the surly fellows,
revealing a passage beyond. Into this the eight fairly raced.

"Do not follow too quickly, senor, or one of the rascals may forget
himself and turn to fight," declared Tomba.