eek, to-morrow."

"What do they want to know that you can tell them?"

"Much, very much, about the insurgent arms."

"And you will tell them to-morrow?"

"Not to-morrow--not ever."

The voice was low and full of tears, but there was a ring of
determination that told of a strong heart despite her woman's weakness.

"Hooray," whispered Bert. "Good for you."

"And have you no friends who can aid you?"

"Yes, one, but he may even now be dead or dying in a Spanish dungeon. It
is for him I weep, not for myself. There is a price upon his head."

"What," said the boys in a breath.

"Is he Captain Dynamite of the _Mariella_?" asked Harry, excitedly.

"He is sometimes called so. His name is Michael O'Connor. What do you
know of him?"

The woman's voice trembled with excitement.

"Hoop la," whispered Harry, hardly able to refrain from shouting.
"Captain Dynamite is not in any dungeon cell, Miss Juanita, and if I am
not mistaken he is already devising some plan with Gomez to effect your
rescue."

"Who are you," whispered the girl in amazement, "who know O'Connor and
my name so well?"

"I told you, Miss Juanita, that we had one friend among the Cubans; that
is Captain Dynamite. We made the last trip with him on the _Mariella_,
though not willingly. We'll tell you that story some other time when you
are well out of this."

"He was well?" nervously whispered the girl.

"Yes, until he got the dispatch from Gomez telling him that you had been
captured. Then he was off to Cubitas like a shot in the middle of the
night. We were trying to join him when they nabbed us."

"But they have not learned from you where he is?"

"Miss Juanita, you wrong us. We do not betray our friends."

"Oh, and it is because you will not betray him that you are here. I kiss
your hands."

"Permit us to kiss yours--figuratively--Miss Juanita," said Harry,
gallantly, while Bert gulped down a lump in his throat when he thought
of his suggestion to tell the Spanish general the truth.

"But I wouldn't have done it, Hal, old man," he said, involuntarily.

"Wouldn't have done what?"

"Not when it came right down to bed rock."

"What are you talking about, Bert?"

"Oh, nothing. I was just thinking."

"Well, don't think so loud unless you are going to take me into your
confidence. Any chance of getting out of that dungeon cell of yours,
Miss Juanita?"

"None."

At this moment they heard the sound of regular footsteps outside.

"'Sh,