emy's force in that territory, cutting
its way over field and brush to the left wing as it swung closer to
the river already mentioned several times. The cavalry developed a
strong resistance which lasted for over an hour; but in the end the
Filipinos were glad enough to fall back into the town proper.

Out on the main road leading to the principal bridge over the river
the sun was boiling hot, and many a soldier felt more like seeking
shelter and resting than like pushing forward with his heavy gun and
other equipments. But General Lawton was here and there, encouraging
every one, and they pushed on until a sharp fire between the enemy and
the advance guard told that a running fight, and perhaps a regular
battle, would soon be at hand.

"At them, my men!" cried the various commanders. "They'll run, no
doubt of it. They haven't stood up against us yet!" And away went the
long skirmishing line, and soon there was a steady crack and pop of
guns and pistols as the Americans pushed on, catching many a poor
Filipino who was too late in either running or throwing down his arms.
A number surrendered, and these were promptly sent to the rear.

Presently the river was gained, and here the Americans came to an
unexpected halt. There was a long bridge to cross, and beyond was a
barricade of stone and wood. Were the insurgents massed behind that
barricade? If they were, to cross the bridge in column of fours or
otherwise would mean a terrible slaughter.

"Here goes!" sang out one petty officer, and made a dash forward,
which was as reckless as it was daring. As he moved along the bridge
several held their breath, expecting to see him go down at any
instant. But then came a rush of first half a dozen, then a score, and
then whole companies, and it was speedily seen that the barricade was
practically deserted. The insurgents were hurrying into the town as
hard as they could, with Uncle Sam's men after them, both sides
keeping up a steady firing as they ran.

In the meantime, soaked to the skin and utterly miserable over their
capture, Larry and his Yankee friend had been thrust into the prison
cell and left to themselves. After the door was locked and the jailer
walked away, the youth uttered a long-drawn sigh.

"Luke, we're in a pickle, this trip," he groaned. "What do you suppose
they will do with us?"

"Heaven alone knows, my lad," responded the old tar. "Bein' as how
they ain't cannibals, I don't reckon they'll eat us up,