side of him. In half an hour they had left the last of the
huts of the reconcentrados behind them and struck boldly out into the
open country, the twelve men, at a command from O'Connor, falling into
marching order behind him.

In the dim distance lay their haven of safety: the dark, wooded
foothills of the mountain that towered in black, ragged outlines before
them, and the low-lying jungle at its base, within whose shelter
O'Connor knew nearly a thousand determined men lay, only waiting word
from him that his mission had failed, to move like a whirlwind on the
unsuspecting outposts entrenched between them and the town.

"We must be getting close to their lines," said O'Connor, looking at his
watch. Then he turned quickly and put his hand to his ear in a listening
attitude. At first the boys could not distinguish the sound that his
quick ear had caught, and then indistinctly a faint, hollow clatter came
over the plain from behind them. They strained their eyes but could see
nothing that might cause it.

"It's a horse--galloping hard," said O'Connor, and his mouth set into
that straight line that the boys knew so well. "Lie down."

O'Connor set the example and dropped on his stomach, with his ear to the
ground. After a moment he raised his head slightly, and said:

"I think there is only one, but it will be safer to get under cover.
Crawl to those bushes and lie low."

They all wriggled along the ground until they were partially concealed
from view by one of the clumps of low trees and shrubs that dotted the
plain.

"Do you think they have discovered our escape?" asked Bert.

"Can't tell yet," answered O'Connor, who was standing up behind a tree,
trying to catch a glimpse of the rider whose approach was heralded by
the vigorous pounding of his horse's hoofs. "I am satisfied that there
is but one horse and it hardly seems likely that one man would set out
in pursuit of a dozen, nor can I think it is a courier riding so hard at
this time of night."

The clatter of hoofs now became distinct, and away in the distance they
could see a speck that grew larger each minute, until it took the form
of a horse and rider. The course he was taking would bring him within an
eighth of a mile of the party. As he came nearer O'Connor strained his
eyes to make out the rider. The moon was getting low, but there was
still light enough on the plain to make it possible to distinguish faces
at some distance.

On came the horse, and