Part 24 (1/2)

”Yes, it is monotonous, lad,” said Leroy, who was resting at Larry's feet. ”But, as I've said a hundred times afore, we can't help ourselves, consequently, make the best on it. Ain't that sound argyment, lad?”

”I reckon so, Leroy, but--but--”

”When ye git as old as I am you'll see things in a different light. We can't complain o' the treatment here, lad.”

”But I would like to know how the war is going, and if my brother knows I am alive.”

”Reckon the war is goin' agin the Tagals, or they wouldn't be a-pus.h.i.+ng back into the mountains like this.”

”It's a wonder they don't try to exchange us.”

At this Dan Leroy smiled grimly. ”Might be as how they consider us too vallyble,” he suggested. He was a short, stout fellow, much given to joking, and rarely out of good humor.

It was about the middle of the afternoon, and from a long distance came the sounds of firing. But the booming came from big field-pieces, so Larry knew it must be far away, and so it gave him small hope.

The rebels had just brought in some fresh meat, procured from the town at the foot of the long hill, and they speedily proceeded to make a beef stew with rice and yams. The smell was appetizing, and as n.o.body had had a square meal that day, Larry brightened over the prospect.

The cave in the hillside was irregular in shape, running back to a series of openings which n.o.body had ever yet explored. In this cave the insurgents kept some of their supplies, brought up from San Fernando, San Isidro, and other places. It was a fact that Aguinaldo hardly knew where to ”jump” next.

Before nightfall the dinner was ready, and the chief of the rebels had the prisoners supplied with bowls of the stew. ”Eat all of eet,” he said, with a grin. ”For maybe no geet such t'ings to-morrow.”

”Thanks, we'll fill up then,” responded Larry, and set to with a will, as did all the other prisoners.

The captives were unarmed, and though the rebels watched them, they were allowed more or less of the freedom of the camp. Finis.h.i.+ng his bowl of stew, Larry leaned over to where Leroy sat.

”Leroy, if we can manage to get a kettle of that stew, I'll be for trying to get away to-night,” he whispered.

”And how are ye going to get it, lad?” asked the sailor.

”Wait and you will see,” was the answer, and Larry arose and sauntered over toward the fire.

”I spilt some of the stew on the ground,” he said, which was true, although the amount had not been large. ”Can I have more?”

”Yes, take what you will,” returned the insurgent chief, who felt in good humor, through having obtained a leave of absence, to start on the morning following. ”And give some to your friends. We'll fill up for once.”

”Thank you,” answered Larry, and hurried to the other prisoners with the big pot from over the fire. The prisoners had a large tin kettle for water, fitted with a cover so that bugs might be kept out, and this he filled to the brim, and also gave the others all they wished.

”Going to eat all of that?” queried one of the men, with a short laugh.

”Sometime--not now,” answered Larry. Then he took the pot back to the fire and carried his bowl and the kettle into the cave. At once Leroy followed him.

”And now, what's this nonsense you're talkin' about running away?”

demanded the _Yorktown_ sailor, as soon as they were alone.

”I'm going to try my luck to-night, Leroy. If you don't want to go, you can stay with the others.”

”But how are you going? There's a guard around the foot of the hill, and they will shoot you on sight.”

”I'm not going to try the foot of the hill--at least, not this side of it.”

”Well, you can't get to the other, for that cliff over this cave is in the way.”