Chapter 2 FLYING FOR THEIR LIVES-A BOLD EXPEDIENT.

Behind, a furious rush was being made at the door.

Even if this did not give way, it was an easy matter to scale the wall. So Dan Daly and Young Glory had no time to lose.

"Friends of yours live here?" questioned Dan.

"No, no! Don't talk, but look about you!"

A narrow passage led to the side of the house, and as the fugitives reached it, a man stood in their way.

"You cannot pass," he said.

"But we do," retorted Young Glory, bounding forward, and giving the man a furious blow in the face with his fist. Down he went like a log.

"Shure, he's punished for not kapin' to the truth," laughed Dan.

"Now our troubles commence," said Young Glory. "Across this court-yard, or patis as they call it, Dan, and then we're in the street."

Several people, evidently servants belonging to the house rushed into the patis, but none of them attempted to interfere with the two Americans. They seemed completely scared, and stood with startled looks on their faces as the fugitives dashed past.

Now they were in the road.

This part of the village was deserted, for all the people had gone round to the rear of the house where the execution of Dan Daly was to have taken place. It was a sight they did not care to miss.

So Young Glory and Dan crossed the road and then entered a thick wood, which seemed to them to have no paths in it.

Through it they pushed their way, listening intently for sounds of their pursuers. Their progress was slow, but so would that be of the men who were after them. The only advantage the latter possessed was that they knew the country.

"Water!" cried Young Glory.

"It's a river, shure," said Dan.

"No, there's no river in these parts. I'm certain of that. It must be a creek-part of the sea, in fact."

"Faith, it's small use talkin' about it. It's there, an', begorra, our goose is cooked; we can niver get any further."

"It's a bad lookout."

"An' why shouldn't we swim, Young Glory?"

"And be shot down. How long would it take us to get to the other side? Why, if we escaped the bullets the Spaniards would send after us, we'd find the enemy waiting for us when we landed. That's so, Dan; take my word for it."

Dan turned slowly round. Young Glory regarded him with amazement.

"Where are you going?"

"It's savin' time I want to be. We can't escape. It's yourself said so, an' shure I'll jist go back an' meet the Spaniards."

"Pshaw! We are not captured yet, Dan! There are more ways than one of getting out of a difficulty. We'll keep along by the creek, close to the trees, ready to get amongst them if anybody shows up."

"It's in your hands, I am," said Dan Daly, resignedly.

Now, Young Glory knew the position was very serious. He had not the faintest notice how they were to escape.

It might have been possible for him to have got away, but not for Dan. The Irishman was wearing an American naval uniform. To desert Dan, of course, never entered Young Glory's head.

Dan put his hand on the boy's arm at this moment.

"It's back ye must be kapin'."

"Why?"

"Shure, there's a house."

"I see it."

Young Glory's face brightened instantly.

"By jingo, this may be our salvation!" he cried.

"It's puzzled I am!"

"I'm not. Stay where you are, Dan. That is to say, get amongst these trees till you hear from me."

"But where are ye goin'?"

"Going to call on some friends of mine who live in that house."

Before Dan could say a word, Young Glory was gone, and the Irishman, mindful of his safety, hid himself amid the bushes, still keeping a watch on the house to which his comrade was going.

Young Glory walked boldly up to the hut, for it was no more, and hammered sharply on the door.

He had no cause for fear. He was dressed in the native costume, and spoke the language perfectly.

It was some few minutes before any one answered his summons, and then the door was opened by as villainous-looking a man as Young Glory thought he had ever set eyes on.

The man was apparently about forty years old, not tall, but broad-shouldered and strong.

"Good-day, comrade," said Young Glory, gayly.

The man growled forth a reply.

"Come, come, that's not very civil. A drink and a rest is what I should expect you to invite me to have."

"Go on expecting," answered the man, savagely, showing his teeth as he spoke. "It's all you'll get out of me, senor."

"You're not polite. Caramba! it's living alone has made you like this."

"If I want to live alone," answered the man, adopting a threatening attitude as he spoke, "is it anybody's business but mine?"

"Certainly not," said Young Glory, aloud.

Then to himself he said: "Now, I know there's no one else in the house. Good, that decides me."

"Well, comrade," said Young Glory, smilingly, "people tell me that I've a way with me there's no resisting."

"It has no effect on me."

"Are you sure?"

Quick as a flash, just as the words came from his lips, Young Glory drew his six-shooter from his belt, and held it at the man's head.

"Ha! Ha!" laughed Young Glory, "you change color. You see I was right. Don't you think so?"

"What's your game?" asked the man, sullenly. "I've done you no harm, never seen you in my life before, so you can't want to kill me. And as for robbing me, well, try it. If you get enough to buy yourself a drink I'll be surprised."

"Get into the house," said Young Glory. "Back with you. Hi! Hi!"

The last two cries were meant for Dan, who heard them, and was in time to see Young Glory entering the hut. Dan noticed that his comrade had signed to him, and he immediately ran towards the place.

In a moment he was in the hut.

"A friend of mine, Dan Daly," said Young Glory.

"The top of the mornin' to ye, senor," cried Dan, taking off his cap, gravely. "It's meself's plased to meet you."

"You're an American?"

"Yes."

"Curse you!"

"Our friend's not polite, Dan," said Young Glory. "I've found that out already. But, to business."

"Business!"

"Yes, Dan. We've much to do. Take this man, gag him, and tie him up securely."

Dan rushed at the fellow without another word.

"Quiet! or I'll shoot you," said Young Glory, seeing the man about to resist.

The sight of the pistol effectually settled the matter, and Dan did his work so expeditiously that the man was lying at the rear of the hut hidden under a heap of rubbish in a very few minutes.

"Now, you must skip, Dan."

"Me?"

"I said so."

"But you?"

"Oh! I stay here," answered Young Glory, carelessly. "You see, the men in pursuit of you will come up very soon, and I must be here to receive them."

"Begorra, it's murther!"

"I think not."

"Young Glory, it's throwin' your life away ye'll be; they'll know you at once."

"We shall see."

"But where shall I hide?" cried Dan.

"Rush to the woods and stay there."

"They will search the woods."

"Not after they've heard my story. I'll put them off the trail. Quick! Get away!"

Young Glory ran to the door of the hut. Then he came back with a look of dismay on his face.

"Too late!" he cried.

"What!"

"Too late, I said. The Spaniards are coming up by the creek. You can't get away from this house now without being seen."

It was Dan's turn to look scared now.

"It's your own fault," answered Young Glory, impatiently. "You would waste the precious moments by arguing the point, so see what you've brought us to. There's only one thing for you to do now. Under with you."

"Where?"

"Get alongside our friend. Keep him company. Lie still, Dan. It's your only chance."

Young Glory assisted in covering Dan up, and this done, he threw off the hat and cloak he was wearing, and secreted them. Then he hastily assumed some old garments he found in the hut, rubbed some dirt over his face, pulled his hat over his eyes, and with a cigarette between his lips took his station at the door to wait for the soldiers.

Spanish soldiers are not very ceremonious in their treatment of civilians. So Young Glory found himself roughly addressed by the officer in charge of the detachment.

"You live here?" said the officer.

"Yes, senor capitan," answered Young Glory, "this is my poor house."

"Very well. You're the man I want. Have you seen anybody pass this way?"

"No."

"Have you been standing here long?"

"Yes, for an hour."

"And you saw no one pass?"

"I said no, senor capitan."

"They must have passed this way," said the officer, in a low voice, to his sergeant. "The fellow's deceiving us."

"Pardon, senor capitan," said Young Glory. "I have something to say. Just now I saw two men."

"Two men!" cried the captain, excitedly. "It must be they. Where! Where!"

"They came out of the wood about two hundred yards below, and seeing me standing at the door they darted back again into the trees."

"Ask him what they were like," whispered the sergeant. "That will test his story."

The officer, pleased with the suggestion, put the question.

"Like! well, now, it wasn't as if I had many minutes to examine them, and, besides it was too far off for me to tell the color of their hair or eyes."

"Fool!" exclaimed the captain, savagely. "Their dress! that's the point."

"One of them seemed to be a civilian, a Cuban I should say, capitan. The other, was certainly a sailor, a navy man, the--"

The captain waited for no more.

"Our men," he cried enthusiastically. "They cannot escape us now."

Young Glory threw away his cigarette and smiled as he looked after them.

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