he boy on to renewed exertions.

The good woman of the house was soon pointing at the trap, and Rod
quickly had it open. As he clambered out on the roof he saw to his
satisfaction that it was situated on the side away from the village
street. In this fashion he believed he might be able to accomplish what
he had determined to attempt, at least without being interrupted by any
passing Uhlan lancers.

One look in the direction of the hillside gave him cause for further
delight, since he found that he could easily see the camp of the tired
zouaves, who had marched many miles since sun-up in hopes of
participating in the day's battle, only to arrive when the action was
all over.

Rod immediately began to wave his handkerchief wildly, though carrying
out a certain program, and hoping to thus attract the attention of some
sentry who may have been posted on that side of the camp.

Almost immediately he realized that this was just what had been
accomplished, for he saw men running, and then a signal flag was waved
in reply to his frantic appeals.

"What do you want to communicate?" was what he made out to be fashioned
through the regular wigwag work of the flag.

"Village at mercy of Uhlans--come and help us at once!"

That was the message which Rod sent waving back. How glad he was at that
minute he had picked up his knowledge of Signal Corps work, and could
both send and receive so accurately.

That the man in the zouave camp had grasped the meaning of his dispatch
Rod quickly understood, for almost immediately there was waved back an
answer calculated to reassure him:

"Hold on! Relief coming! O. K."

All this of course took a little time in transmission. Seconds had
passed into minutes, and about the time he was through Rod realized that
things were getting pretty warm close by. In fact some of the raiders
had discovered that the most pretentious house in the entire little
village was barred against them. They had leaned from their saddles and
pounded heavily on the door. When no one opened up they had given vent
to their anger and even threatened to smash their way in, doubtless
promising all sorts of terrible things for the inmates if forced to go
to this trouble.

Still there had been no response. Josh, who was in charge below, did not
mean to risk the loss of the precious motorcycles, as well as take
chances of being shot as a spy, just because those lordly Uhlan
cavalrymen demanded that he unbar the heavy