had struck the top of the building,
tearing away fully a quarter of the roof and sending the bricks and
timbers flying in all directions.

"Now is my chance!" he muttered, and without stopping to think twice he
rammed the window bars as hard as he could with the bench. A second and
third blow followed, and down went the irons, carrying a portion of the
window frame with them. Then through the opening leaped the young
captain. As he landed in the courtyard, he picked up a small log of wood
lying handy.

A glance around told him that the guard was nowhere in sight, the
Russian having run to the other side of the building to note the damage
done by the shell. Log in hand, Ben leaped quickly across the courtyard
and placed the bit of wood up against the wall. This gave him a footing,
and in a twinkling he was on top of the wall.

But though he acted quickly a guard from the prison building saw him and
ran forth gun in hand.

"Halt!" came the command, in Russian, and then, raising his weapon, the
guard fired at Ben.

The bullet whistled over the young captain's head, and without looking
back to see who had fired it, he dropped on the other side of the wall.
Then he sprinted up the street and around a corner.

Ben knew not where to go, but his one thought was to put distance
between himself and the prison, and he hurried on and on, until he came
to a barn which stood open. Into this he darted, to find the building
empty of occupants.

The Japanese had begun a general bombardment of Port Arthur and shot and
shells were flying in all directions. This being the case, the majority
of the troops and the inhabitants were out of sight,--hid away in
cellars and dugouts. Nobody paid any attention to him and he was thus
given ample time in which to think matters over and decide upon his next
movement.

From the barn Ben moved to the building next door--which was a sort of
dwelling and storehouse combined. Here, from the wide open doorway, he
gazed at the scene of destruction before him. It was full of horror and
made him shiver.

"War is certainly a terrible thing," he thought. He saw some people
running for their lives, and beheld one man go down struck in the back
by a shell. Then he turned away to shut out the sight.

In one room of the warehouse he found an old overcoat and a slouch hat,
and lost no time in donning these, both as a disguise and to keep
himself warm. Then he hunted around for something to eat, but coul