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"Forward, March": A Tale of the Spanish-American War

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Title: "Forward, March": A Tale of the Spanish-American War

Author: Kirk Munroe


        
Release date: July 7, 2005 [eBook #16231]
                Most recently updated: December 11, 2020

Language: English

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"FORWARD, MARCH"

A Tale of the Spanish-American War

by

KIRK MUNROE

Author of "The Painted Desert," "Rick Dale," The "Mate Series," etc.

Illustrated

New York and London
Harper & Brothers Publishers

1899







[Frontispiece: The Rough Riders fought without seeing
the enemy.]




CONTENTS

CHAPTER

      I.  A BOWL OF ROSES
     II.  WAR IS DECLARED
    III.  ROLLO THE TERROR
     IV.  THE ROUGH RIDERS AT SAN ANTONIO
      V.  RIDGE BECOMES A TROOPER
     VI.  OFF FOR THE WAR
    VII.  THE STORY OF HOBSON AND THE _MERRIMAC_
   VIII.  CHARGED WITH A SECRET MISSION
     IX.  HERMAN DODLEY INTERPOSES DIFFICULTIES
      X.  ON THE CUBAN BLOCKADE
     XI.  A LIVELY EXPERIENCE OF CUBAN HOSPITALITY
    XII.  DENOUNCED BY A FRIEND
   XIII.  TO BE SHOT AT SUNRISE
    XIV.  REFUGEES IN THE MOUNTAINS
     XV.  DIONYSIO CAPTURES A SPANIARD
    XVI.  ASLEEP WHILE ON GUARD
   XVII.  IN THE HANDS OF SPANISH GUERILLAS
  XVIII.  DEATH OF SEÑORITA
    XIX.  CALIXTO GARCIA THE CUBAN
     XX.  THE TWO ADMIRALS
    XXI.  A SPANIARD'S LOYALTY
   XXII.  ROLLO IN CUBA
  XXIII.  THE "TERRORS" IN BATTLE
   XXIV.  FACING SAN JUAN HEIGHTS
    XXV.  RIDGE WINS HIS SWORD
   XXVI.  MUTINY ON A TRANSPORT
  XXVII.  DESTRUCTION OF THE SPANISH SHIPS
 XXVIII.  LAST SHOT OF THE CAMPAIGN
   XXIX.  TWO INVALID HEROES
    XXX.  ROLLO MAKES PROPOSITIONS




ILLUSTRATIONS


   THE ROUGH RIDERS FOUGHT WITHOUT SEEING THE ENEMY . . . (Frontispiece)

   "SILAS PINE GAZED ABOUT HIM WITH THE AIR OF ONE WHO IS DAZED"

   "'HIM HOLGUIN SPANIARD.  NOW YOU SHOOT HIM,' SAID THE CUBAN"

   RIDGE ESCORTS A CUBAN FAMILY INTO SANTIAGO




"FORWARD, MARCH!"




CHAPTER I

A BOWL OF ROSES

In the morning-room of a large, old-fashioned country-house, situated a
few miles outside the city of New Orleans, sat a young man arranging a
bowl of roses.  Beside him stood a pretty girl, in riding costume, whose
face bore a trace of petulance.

"Do make haste, Cousin Ridge, and finish with those stupid flowers.  You
have wasted half an hour of this glorious morning over them already!" she
exclaimed.

"Wasted?" rejoined Ridge Norris, inquiringly, and looking up with a
smile.  "I thought you were too fond of flowers to speak of time spent in
showing them off to best advantage as 'wasted.'"

"Yes, of course I'm fond of them," answered Spence Cuthbert, who was from
Kentucky on a Mardi Gras visit to Dulce Norris, her school-chum and
cousin by several removes, "but not fond enough to break an engagement on
account of them."

"An engagement?"

"Certainly.  You promised to go riding with me this morning."

"And so I will in a minute, when I have finished with these roses."

"But I want you to come this instant."

"And leave a duty unperformed?" inquired Ridge, teasingly.

"Yes; now."

"In a minute."

"No.  I won't wait another second."

With this the girl flung herself from the room, wearing a very determined
expression on her flushed face.

Ridge rose to follow her, and then resumed his occupation as a clatter of
hoofs on the magnolia-bordered driveway announced the arrival of a
horseman.

"She won't go now that she has a caller to entertain," he said to himself.

But in this he was mistaken; for within a minute another clatter of
hoofs, mingled with the sound of laughing voices, gave notice of a
departure, and, glancing from an open window, Ridge saw Spence Cuthbert
ride gayly past in company with a young man whose face seemed familiar,
but whose name he could not recall.

As they swept by both looked up laughing, while the horseman lifted his
hat in a bow that was almost too sweeping to be polite.

"What did you say Ridge was doing?" he asked, as they passed beyond
earshot.

"Arranging a bowl of roses," answered Spence.

"Nice occupation for a man," sneered the other.  "And he preferred doing
that to riding with you?"

"So it seems."

"Well, I am not wholly surprised, for, as I remember him, he was a
soft-hearted, Miss Nancy sort of a boy, who was always coddling sick
kittens, or something of the kind, and never would go hunting because he
couldn't bear to kill things.  He apparently hadn't a drop of sporting
blood in him, and I recall having to thrash him on one occasion because
he objected to my shooting a bird.  I thought of course, though, that he
had outgrown all such nonsense by this time."

"There is no nonsense about him!" flashed out Spence, warmly; and then,
to her companion's amazement, the girl began a most spirited defence of
her absent cousin, during which she denounced in such bitter terms the
taking of innocent lives under the name of "sport" that the other was
finally thankful to change the conversation to a more congenial topic.

In the mean time Dulce Norris had entered the morning-room to find out
why Spence had gone to ride with Herman Dodley instead of with Ridge, as
had been arranged.

"Was that Herman Dodley?" asked the latter, without answering his
sister's question.

"Yes, of course, but why do you ask with such a tragic air?"

"Because," replied Ridge, "I have heard reports concerning him which, if
confirmed, should bar the doors of this house against him forever."

"What do you mean, Ridge Norris?  I'm sure Mr. Dodley bears as good a
reputation as the majority of young men one meets in society.  Of course
since he has got into politics his character has been assailed by the
other party; but then no one ever believes what politicians say of one
another."

"No matter now what I mean," rejoined the young man.  "Perhaps I will
tell you after I have spoken to father on the subject, which I mean to do
at once."

Ridge Norris, on his way to the library, where he hoped to find his
father, was somewhat of a disappointment to his family.  Born of a mother
in whose veins flowed French and Spanish blood, and who had taught him to
speak both languages, and of a New England father, who had spent his
entire business life in the far South, Ridge had been reared in an
atmosphere of luxury.  He had been educated in the North, sent on a grand
tour around the world, and had finally been given a position, secured
through his father's influence, in a Japanese-American banking house.
From Yokohama he had been transferred to the New York office, where, on
account of a slight misunderstanding with one of his superiors, he had
thrown up his position to return to his home only a few days before this
story opens.

Now his family did not know what to do with him.  He disliked business,
and would not study for a profession.  He was a dear, lovable fellow,
honest and manly in all his instincts; but indolent, fastidious in his
tastes, and apparently without ambition.  He was devoted to music and
flowers, extremely fond of horses, which he rode more than ordinarily
well, and had a liking for good books.  He had, furthermore, returned
from his travels filled with pride for his native land, and declaring
that the United States was the only country in the world worth fighting
and dying for.

Taking the morning's mail from the hand of a servant who had just brought
it, Ridge entered his father's presence.

"Here are your letters, sir," he said, "but before you read them I should
like a few moments' conversation with you."

"Certainly, son.  What is it?"

As Ridge told what he had heard concerning Herman Dodley, the elder man's
brows darkened; and, when the recital was finished, he said:

"I fear all this is true, and have little doubt that Dodley is no better
than he should be; but, unfortunately, I am so situated at present that I
cannot forbid him the house.  I will warn Dulce and her friend against
him; but just now I am not in a position to offend him."

"Why, father!" cried Ridge, amazed to hear his usually fearless and
self-assertive parent adopt this tone.  "I thought that you were--"

"Independent of all men," interrupted the other, finishing the sentence.
"So I believed myself to be.  But I am suddenly confronted by business
embarrassments that force me temporarily to adopt a different policy.
Truly, Ridge, we are threatened with such serious losses that I am making
every possible sacrifice to try and stem the tide.  I have even placed
our summer home on the Long Island coast in an agent's hands, and am
deeply grieved that you should have thrown up a position, promising at
least self-support, upon such slight provocation."

"But he ordered me about as though I were a servant, instead of
requesting me to do things in a gentlemanly way."

"And were you not a servant?"

"No, sir, I was not--at least, not in the sense of being amenable to
brutal commands.  I was not, nor will I ever be, anybody's slave."

"Oh well, my boy!" replied the elder, with a deep sigh, "I fear you will
live to discover by sad experience that pride is the most expensive of
earthly luxuries, and that one must consent to obey orders long before he
can hope to issue commands.  But we will discuss your affairs later, for
now I must look over my letters."

While Mr. Norris was thus engaged, Ridge opened the morning paper, and
glanced carelessly at its headlines.  Suddenly he sprang to his feet with
a shout, his dark face glowing and his eyes blazing with excitement.

"By heavens, father!" he cried, "the United States battle-ship _Maine_
has been blown up in Havana Harbor with a loss of two hundred and sixty
of her crew.  If that doesn't mean war, then nothing in the world's
history ever did.  You needn't worry about me any more, sir, for my duty
is clearly outlined."

"What do you propose to do?" asked the elder man, curiously.  "Will you
try to blow up a Spanish battle-ship in revenge?"

"No, sir.  But I shall enlist at the very first call to arms, and offer
my life towards the thrashing of the cowards who have perpetrated this
incredible crime."

Thrilled to the core by the momentous news he had just read, Ridge
hastened to impart it to his mother and sister.  At the same time he
ordered a horse on which he might ride to the city for further details of
the stupendous event.  As he was about to depart, Spence Cuthbert and her
escort, returning from their ride, dashed up to the doorway.

"Have you heard the news?" cried Ridge, barely nodding to Dodley.

"Yes," replied Spence.  "Isn't it dreadful?  Mr. Dodley told me all about
it, and after hearing it I couldn't bear to ride any farther, so we came
back."

"I wish he had told me before you started," said Ridge, "so that I might
have been in the city long ago."

"You were so busily and pleasantly engaged with your roses that I
hesitated to interrupt you," murmured Herman Dodley.  "Now, however, if I
can be of any assistance to you in the city, pray consider me at your
service."

"Can you assist me, sir, to obtain a commission in the army that will be
summoned to visit a terrible punishment upon Spain for her black
treachery?"

"Undoubtedly I could, and of course I would do so with pleasure if the
occasion should arise.  But there won't be any war.  The great Yankee
nation is too busy accumulating dollars to fight over a thing of this
kind.  We will demand a money indemnity, it will be promptly paid, and
the whole affair will quickly be forgotten."

"Sir!" cried Ridge, his face pale with passion.  "The man who utters such
words is at heart a traitor to his country."

"If it were not for the presence of ladies, I would call you to account
for that remark," muttered Dodley.  "As it is, I shall not forget it.
Ladies, I have the honor to wish you a very good-morning."

With this the speaker, who had not dismounted, turned his horse's head
and rode away.




CHAPTER II

WAR IS DECLARED

Never was the temper and patience of the American people more sorely
tried than by the two months of waiting and suspense that followed the
destruction of their splendid battle-ship.  The _Maine_ had entered
Havana Harbor on a friendly visit, been assigned to a mooring, which
was afterwards changed by the Spanish authorities, and three weeks
later, without a suspicion of danger having been aroused or a note of
warning sounded, she was destroyed as though by a thunder-bolt.  It was
nearly ten o'clock on the night of Tuesday, February 15th.  Taps had
sounded and the crew were asleep in their hammocks, when, by a terrific
explosion, two hundred and fifty-eight men and two officers were hurled
into eternity, sixty more were wounded, and the superb battle-ship was
reduced to a mass of shapeless wreckage.

It was firmly believed throughout the United States that this appalling
disaster was caused by a submarine mine, deliberately placed near the
mooring buoy to which the _Maine_ had been moved, to be exploded at a
favorable opportunity by Spanish hands.

The Spaniards, on the other side, claimed and strenuously maintained
that the only explosion was that of the ship's own magazines, declaring
in support of this theory that discipline on all American men-of-war
was so lax as to invite such a catastrophe at any moment.

To investigate, and settle if possible, this vital question, a Court of
Inquiry, composed of four prominent naval officers, was appointed.
They proceeded to Havana, took volumes of testimony, and, after six
weeks of most searching investigation, made a report to the effect that
the _Maine_ was destroyed by two distinct explosions, the first of
which was that of a mine located beneath her, and causing a second
explosion--of her own magazines--by concussion.

During these six weeks the country was in a ferment.  For three years
war had raged in Cuba, where the natives were striving to throw off the
intolerable burden of Spanish oppression and cruelty.  In all that time
the sympathies of America were with the struggling Cubans; and from
every State of the Union demands for intervention in their behalf, even
to the extent of going to war with Spain, had grown louder and more
insistent, until it was evident that they must be heeded.  With the
destruction of the _Maine_ affairs reached such a crisis that the
people, through their representatives in Congress, demanded to have the
Spanish flag swept forever from the Western hemisphere.

In vain did President McKinley strive for a peaceful solution of the
problem; but with both nations bent on war, he could not stem the tide
of popular feeling.  So, on the 20th of April he was obliged to demand
from Spain that she should, before noon of the 23d, relinquish forever
her authority over Cuba, at the same time withdrawing her land and
naval forces from that island.  The Spanish Cortes treated this
proposition with contempt, and answered it by handing his passports to
the American Minister at Madrid, thereby declaring war against the
great American republic.

At this time Spain believed her navy to be more than a match for that
of the United States, and that, with nearly two hundred thousand
veteran, acclimated troops on the island of Cuba, she was in a position
to resist successfully what she termed the "insolent demands of the
Yankee pigs."

On this side of the Atlantic, Congress had appropriated fifty millions
of dollars for national defence, the navy was being strengthened by the
purchase of additional ships at home and abroad, fortifications were
being erected along the entire coast, harbors were mined, and a
powerful fleet of warships was gathered at Key West, the point of
American territory lying nearest the island of Cuba.

Then came the President's call for 125,000 volunteers, followed a few
weeks later by a second call for 75,000 more.  This was the summons for
which our young friend, Ridge Norris, had waited so impatiently ever
since that February morning when he had arranged a bowl of roses and
read the startling news of the _Maine's_ destruction.

No one in all the country had been more impatient of the long delay
than he; for it had seemed to him perfectly evident from the very first
that war must be declared, and he was determined to take an active part
in it at the earliest opportunity.  His father was willing that he
should go, his mother was bitterly opposed; Dulce begged him to give up
his design, and even Spence Cuthbert's laughing face became grave
whenever the subject was mentioned, but the young man was not to be
moved from his resolve.

Mardi Gras came and passed, but Ridge, though escorting his sister and
cousin to all the festivities, took only a slight interest in them.  He
was always slipping away to buy the latest papers or to read the
bulletins from Washington.

"Would you go as a private, son?" asked his father one evening when the
situation was being discussed in the family circle.

"No, no!  If he goes at all--which Heaven forbid--it must be as an
officer," interposed Mrs. Norris, who had overheard the question.

"Of course a gentleman would not think of going as anything else,"
remarked Dulce, conclusively.

"I believe there were gentlemen privates on both sides during the Civil
War," said Spence Cuthbert, quietly.

"Of course," admitted Dulce, "but that was different.  Then men fought
for principles, but now they are going to fight for--for--"

"The love of it, perhaps," suggested the girl from Kentucky.

"You know I don't mean that," cried Dulce.  "They are going to fight
because--"

"Because their country calls them," interrupted Ridge, with energy,
"and because every true American endorses Decatur's immortal toast of
'Our Country.  May she always be in the right; but, right or wrong, our
country.'  Also because in the present instance we believe it is as
much our right to save Cuba from further oppression at the hands of
Spain as it always is for the strong to interpose in behalf of the weak
and helpless.  For these reasons, and because I do not seem fit for
anything else, I am going into the city to-morrow to enlist in whatever
regiment I find forming."

"Oh, my boy! my boy!" cried Mrs. Norris, flinging her arms around her
son's neck, "do not go tomorrow.  Wait a little longer, but one week,
until we can see what will happen.  After that I will not seek further
to restrain you.  It is your mother who prays."

"All right, mother dear, I will wait a few days to please you, though I
cannot see what difference it will make."

So the young man waited as patiently as might be a week longer, and
before it was ended the whole country was ringing with the wonderful
news of Admiral George Dewey's swift descent upon the Philippine
Islands with the American Asiatic squadron.  With exulting heart every
American listened to the thrilling story of how this modern Farragut
stood on the bridge of the Olympia, and, with a fine contempt for the
Spanish mines known to be thickly planted in the channel, led his ships
into Manila Bay.  Almost before the startled Spaniards knew of his
coming he had safely passed their outer line of defences, and was
advancing upon their anchored fleet of iron-clad cruisers.  An hour
later he had completely destroyed it, silenced the shore batteries, and
held the proud city of Manila at his mercy.  All this he had done
without the loss of a man or material damage to his ships, an exploit
so incredible that at first the world refused to believe it.

To Ridge Norris, who had spent a week in the Philippines less than a
year before, the whole affair was of intense interest, and he bitterly
regretted not having remained in the Far East that he might have
participated in that glorious fight.

"I would gladly have shipped as a sailor on the _Olympia_ if I had only
known what was in store for her!" he exclaimed; "but a chance like
that, once thrown away, never seems to be offered again."

"But, my boy, it is better now," said Mrs. Norris, with a triumphant
smile.  "Then you would have been only a common seaman; one week ago
you would have enlisted as a common soldier.  Now you may go as an
officer--what you will call a lieutenant--with the chance soon to
become a captain, and perhaps a general.  Who can tell?"

"Whatever do you mean, mother?"

"What I say, and it is even so; for have I not the promise of the
Governor himself?  But your father will tell you better, for he knows
what has been done."

So Ridge went to his father, who confirmed what he had just heard,
saying:

"Yes, son; your mother has exerted her influence in your behalf, and
procured for you the promise of a second-lieutenant's commission,
provided I am willing to pay for the honor."

"How, father?"

"By using my influence to send Herman Dodley to the Legislature as soon
as he comes back from the war."

"Is Dodley going into the army?"

"Yes.  He is to be a major."

"And would you help to send such a man to the Legislature?"

"If you wanted to be a lieutenant badly enough to have me do so, I
would."

"Father, you know I wouldn't have you do such a thing even to make me
President of the United States!"

"Yes, son, I know it."

And the two, gazing into each other's eyes, understood each other
perfectly.

"I would rather go as a private, father."

"I would rather have you, son; though it would be a great
disappointment to your mother."

"She need not know, for I will go to some distant camp before
enlisting.  I wouldn't serve in the same regiment with Herman Dodley,
anyhow."

"Of course not, son."

"I suppose his appointment is political--as well as the one intended
for me?"

"Yes; and so it is with every other officer in the regiment."

"That settles it.  I would sooner join the Cubans than fight under the
leadership of mere politicians.  So, when I do enlist, it will be in
some regiment where the word politics is unknown, even if I have to go
into the regular army."

"Son, I am prouder of you than I ever was before.  What will you want
in the way of an outfit?"

"One hundred dollars, if you can spare so much."

"You shall have it, with my blessing."

So it happened that, a few days later, Ridge Norris started for the
war, though without an idea of where he should find it or in what
capacity he should serve his country.




CHAPTER III

ROLLO THE TERROR

On the evening when Ridge decided to take his departure for the seat of
war he was driven into the city by his father, who set him down near the
armory of the regiment in which he had been offered a lieutenant's
commission--for a consideration.

"I don't want you to tell me where you are going, son," said Mr. Norris,
"for I would rather be able to say, with a clear conscience, that I left
you at headquarters, and beyond that know nothing of your movements."

"All right, father," replied the young fellow.  "I won't tell you a thing
about it, for I don't know where I am going any more than you do."

"Then good-bye, my boy, and may Almighty God restore you to us safe and
well when the war is over.  Here is the money you asked for, and I only
wish I were able to give you ten times the sum.  Be careful of it, and
don't spend it recklessly, for you must remember that we are poor folk
now."

Thus saying, the elder man slipped a roll of crisp bills into his son's
hand, kissed him on the cheek, a thing he had not done before in a dozen
years, and, without trusting his voice for another word, drove rapidly
away.

For a minute Ridge stood in the shadow of the massive building, listening
with a full heart to the rattle of departing wheels.  Then he stooped to
pick up the hand-bag, which was all the luggage he proposed to take with
him.  As he did so, two men brushed past him, and he overheard one of
them say:

"Yes, old Norris was bought cheap.  A second-lieutenancy for his cub
fixed him.  The berth'll soon be vacant again though, for the boy hasn't
sand enough to--"

Here the voice of the speaker was lost as the two turned into the armory.

"Thanks for your opinion, Major Dodley," murmured Ridge; "that cheap
berth will be vacant sooner than you think."

Then, picking up his "grip," the young fellow walked rapidly away towards
the railway station.  He was clad in a blue flannel shirt, brown canvas
coat, trousers, and leggings, and wore a brown felt hat, the combination
making up a costume almost identical with that decided upon as a Cuban
campaign uniform for the United States army.  Ridge had provided himself
with it in order to save the carrying of useless luggage.  In his "grip"
he had an extra shirt, two changes of under-flannels, several pairs of
socks, a pair of stout walking-shoes, and a few toilet articles, all of
which could easily be stowed in an army haversack.

Our hero's vaguely formed plan, as he neared the station, was to take the
first east-bound train and make his way to one of the great camps of
mobilization, either at Chickamauga, Georgia, or Tampa, Florida, where he
hoped to find some regiment in which he could conscientiously enlist.  A
train from the North had just reached the station as he entered it; but,
to his disgust, he found that several hours must elapse before one would
be ready to bear him eastward.

He was too excited to wait patiently, but wandered restlessly up and down
the long platform.  All at once there came to his ears the sound of a
familiar voice, and, turning, he saw, advancing towards him, in the full
glare of an electric light, three men, all young and evidently in high
spirits.  One, thin, brown, and wiry, was dressed as a cowboy of the
Western plains.  Another, who was a giant in stature, wore a golf suit of
gray tweed; while the third, of boyish aspect, whom Ridge recognized as
the son of a well-known New York millionaire, was clad in brown canvas
much after his own style, though he also wore a prodigious revolver and a
belt full of cartridges.

He was Roland Van Kyp, called "Rollo" for short, one of the most
persistent and luxurious of globe-trotters, who generally travelled in
his own magnificent steam-yacht _Royal Flush_, on board of which he had
entertained princes and the cream of foreign nobility without number.
Everybody knew Van Kyp, and everybody liked him; he was such a genial
soul, ever ready to bother himself over some other fellow's trouble, but
never intimating that he had any of his own; reckless, generous,
happy-go-lucky, always getting into scrapes and out of them with equal
facility.  To his more intimate friends he had been variously known as
"Rollo Abroad," "Rollo in Love," "Rollo in Search of a Wife," or "Rollo
at Play," and when Ridge became acquainted with him in Yokohama he was
"Rollo in Japan."

He now recognized our hero at a glance, and sprang forward with
outstretched hand.

"Hello, Norris, my dear boy!" he cried.  "Whatever brings you here?
Thought you were still far away in the misty Orient, doing the grand
among the little brown Japs, while here you are in flannel and canvas as
though you were a major-general in the regular army.  What does it mean?
Are you one of us?  Have you too become a man of war, a fire-eater, a
target for Mausers?  Have you enlisted under the banner of the screaming
eagle?"

"Not yet," laughed Ridge, "but I am on my way East to do so in the first
regiment uncontaminated by politics that I can find."

"Then, old man, you don't want to go East.  You want to come West with
us.  There is but one regiment such as you have named, and it is mine;
for, behold!  I am now Rollo in the Army, Rollo the Rough Rider, Rollo
the Terror.  Perhaps it would be more becoming, though, to say 'Ours,'
for we are all in it."

"I should rather imagine that it would," growled he of the golf
stockings, now joining in the conversation.  "And, 'Rollo in Disguise,'
suppose you present us to your friend; for, if I am not mistaken, he is a
gentleman of whom I have heard and would like much to meet."

"Of course you would," responded Rollo, "and I beg your pardon for not
having introduced you at once; but in times of war, you know, one is apt
to neglect the amenities of a more peaceful existence.  Mr. Norris, allow
me to present my friend and pupil in the art of football-playing--"

"Oh, come off," laughed the big man.

"Pupil, as I was saying when rudely interrupted," continued Rollo, "Mr.
Mark Gridley."

"Not Gridley, the famous quarter-back!" exclaimed Ridge, holding out his
hand.

"That's him," replied Van Kyp.

"And aren't you Norris, the gentleman rider?" asked Gridley.

"I have ridden," acknowledged Ridge.

"So has this my other friend and fellow-soldier," cried Van Kyp.
"Norris, I want you to know Mr. Silas Pine, of Medora, North Dakota, a
bad man from the Bad Lands, a bronco-buster by profession, who has also
consented to become a terror to Spaniards in my company."

"Have you a company, then?" asked Ridge, after he had acknowledged this
introduction.

"I have--that is, I belong to one; but, in the sense you mean, you must
not use the word company.  That is a term common to 'doughboys,' who, as
you doubtless know, are merely uniformed pedestrians; but we of the
cavalry always speak of our immediate fighting coterie as a 'troop.'
Likewise the 'battalion' of the inconsequent doughboy has for our behoof
been supplanted by the more formidable word 'squadron,' to show that we
are _de jure_ as well as _de facto_ men of war.  Sabe?"

"Then you are really in the cavalry?" asked Ridge, while laughing at this
nonsense.

"Yes, I really am, or rather I really shall be when I get there; for
though enlisted and sworn in, we haven't yet joined or been sworn at."

"What is your regiment?"

"You mean our 'command.'  Why, didn't I tell you?  'Teddy's Terrors,'
Roosevelt's Rough Riders.  First Volunteer Cavalry, U.S.A., Colonel
Leonard Wood commanding."

"The very one!" cried Ridge.  "Why didn't I think of it before?  How I
wish I could join it."

"And why not?"

"I thought there were so many applications that the ranks were more than
full."

"So there may be, but, like lots of other full things, there's always
room for one more, if he's of the right sort."

"Do you imagine I would stand the slightest chance of getting in?"

"I should say you would.  With me ready to use my influence in your
behalf, and me and Teddy the chums we are, besides you being the rider
you are.  Why the first question Teddy asks of an applicant is 'Can you
ride a horse?'  And when you answer, 'Sir, I am the man who wrote--I mean
who won the silver hurdles at the last Yokohama gym.', he'll be so
anxious to have you in the regiment that he'd resign in your favor rather
than lose you.  Oh, if I only had your backing do you suppose I'd be a
mere private Terror?  No, siree, I'd be corporal or colonel or something
of that kind, sure as you're born.  But come on, let's get aboard, for
there's the tinkle-bell a-tinkling."

"I haven't bought my ticket yet," remonstrated Ridge.

"You won't need one, son.  We're travelling in my private car
'Terror'--used to be named 'Buster,' you know--and the lay-out is free to
all my friends."

Thus it happened that kindly Fate had interposed to guide our hero's
footsteps, but it was not until he found himself seated in the luxurious
smoking-room of Rollo Van Kyp's private railway carriage that it occurred
to him to inquire whither they were bound.

"To the plains of Texas, my boy, and the city of San Antonio de Bexar,
where Teddy and his Terrors are impatiently awaiting our advent," replied
Rollo.  At the same time he touched an electric bell and ordered a
supper, which, when it appeared, proved to be one of the daintiest meals
that Ridge Norris had ever eaten.




CHAPTER IV

THE ROUGH RIDERS AT SAN ANTONIO

During the remainder of that night and all the following day the train
to which the "Terror" was attached sped westward through the rich
lowlands of southern Louisiana and across the prairies of Texas.  It
crossed the tawny flood of the Mississippi on a huge railway ferry to
Algiers, and at New Iberia it passed a side-tracked train filled with
State troops bound for Baton Rouge.  Early the next morning at Houston,
Texas, it drew up beside another train-load of soldiers on their way to
Austin.  To the excited mind of our young would-be cavalryman it seemed
as though the whole country was under arms and hurrying towards the
scene of conflict.  Was he not going in the wrong direction, after all?
And would not those other fellows get to Cuba ahead of him in such
force that there would be no Spaniards left for the Riders to fight?
This feeling was so increased upon reaching the end of the journey,
where he saw two San Antonio companies starting for the East, that he
gave expression to his fears, whereupon Van Kip responded, promptly:

"Don't you fret, old man.  We'll get there in plenty of time.  Teddy's
gone into this thing for blood, and he's got the inside track on
information, too.  Fixed up a private ticker all of his own before he
left Washington, and when he gets ready to start he'll go straight to
the front without a side-track.  Oh, I know him and his ways! for, as
I've said before, we're great chums, me and Teddy.  I shouldn't wonder
if he'd be at the station to meet us."

To Rollo's disappointment, neither Lieutenant-Colonel Roosevelt nor any
one else was on hand to welcome the Riders' new recruits, but this was
philosophically explained by the young New-Yorker on the ground that he
had thoughtlessly neglected to telegraph their coming.  Being thus left
to their own devices, and anxious to join their regiment as quickly as
possible, the three who were already enlisted engaged a carriage to
convey them to the fair-grounds, just beyond the city limits, where the
Riders were encamped, leaving Ridge to occupy the car in solitary state
until morning.

"You just stay here and make yourself cozy," said Rollo, "while we go
and get our bearings.  I'll see Teddy and fix things all right for you,
so that you can come out and join us bright and early tomorrow.  So
long.  Robert, take good care of Mr. Norris, and see that he has
everything to make him comfortable."

This order was delivered to the colored steward of the car, and in
another minute the excited trio had rattled away, leaving Ridge to a
night of luxurious loneliness.

To occupy his time he took a brisk walk into the city, and reached the
Alamo Plaza before he knew where he was.  Then, suddenly, he realized;
for, half-hidden by a great ugly wooden building, used as a
grocery-store, he discovered an antiquated, half-ruinous little
structure of stone and stucco that he instantly recognized, from having
seen it pictured over and over again.  It was the world-renowned Alamo,
one of the most famous monuments to liberty in America; and, hastening
across the plaza, Ridge stood reverently before it, thrilled with the
memory of Crockett and Bowie, Travis and Bonham, who, more than half a
century before, together with their immediate band of heroes, here
yielded up their lives that Texas might be free.

Ridge was well read in the history of the Lone Star State, and now he
strove to picture to himself the glorious tragedy upon which those grim
walls had looked.  As he thus stood, oblivious to his surroundings, he
was recalled to them by a voice close at hand, saying, as though in
soliloquy:

"What a shame that so sacred a monument should be degraded by the
vulgarity of its environment!"

"Is it not?" replied Ridge, turning towards the speaker.  The latter
was a squarely built man, about forty years of age, with a face
expressive of intense determination, which at the moment was partially
hidden by a slouch hat pulled down over the forehead, and a pair of
spectacles.  He was clad in brown canvas, very much as was Ridge
himself; but except for facings of blue on collar and sleeve be wore no
distinctive mark of rank.  For a few minutes the two talked of the
Alamo and all that it represented.  Then the stranger asked, abruptly,

"Do you belong to the Rough Riders?"

"No," replied Ridge, "but I hope to.  I am going to make application to
join them to-morrow, or rather I believe a friend is making it for me
this evening.  Are you one of them, sir?"

"Yes, though I have not yet joined.  In fact, I have only just reached
San Antonio."

"So have I," said Ridge.  "I came in on the Eastern train less than an
hour ago."

"Strange that I did not see you," remarked the other.  "Were you in the
Pullman?"

"No, I was in a private car."

"I noticed that there was one, though I did not know to whom it
belonged.  Is it yours?"

"Oh no!" laughed Ridge.  "I am far too poor to own anything so
luxurious.  It belongs to my friend, Mr. Roland Van Kyp, of New York."

"Sometimes called Rollo?"

"Yes; do you know him?"

"I have met him.  Is he the one who is to use his influence in your
behalf?"

"Yes."

"Can you ride a horse?"

"I have ridden," rejoined Ridge, modestly.

"Where?"

"In many places.  The last was Japan, where I won the silver hurdles of
the Yokohama gymkana."

"Indeed!  And your name is--"

"Ridge Norris," replied the young man.

"I have heard the name, and am glad to know you, Mr. Norris.  Now I
must bid you good-evening.  Hope we shall meet again, and trust you may
be successful in joining our regiment."

With this the stranger walked rapidly away, leaving Ridge somewhat
puzzled by his manner, and wishing he had asked his name.

About eight o'clock the next morning, as Ridge, waited on by the
attentive Robert, was sitting down to the daintily appointed
breakfast-table of Rollo Van Kyp's car, the young owner himself burst
into the room.

"Hello, Norris!" he cried.  "Just going to have lunch?  Don't care if I
join you.  Had breakfast hours ago, you know, and a prime one it was.
Scouse, slumgullion, hushpuppy, dope without milk, and all sorts of
things.  I tell you life in camp is fine, and no mistake.  Slept in a
dog-tent last night with a full-blooded Indian--Choctaw or something of
that kind, one of the best fellows I ever met.  Couldn't catch on to
his name, but it doesn't make any difference, for all the boys call him
'Hully Gee'--'Hully' for short, you know.

"But such fun and such a rum crowd you never saw!  Why, there are
cowboys, ranchers, prospectors, coppers, ex-sheriffs, sailors,
mine-owners, men from every college in the country, tennis champions,
football-players, rowing-men, polo-players, planters, African
explorers, big-game hunters, ex-revenue-officers, and Indian-fighters,
besides any number of others who have led the wildest kinds of life,
all chock-full of stories, and ready to fire 'em off at a touch of the
trigger.  Teddy hasn't come yet, and so I haven't been able to do
anything for you; but you must trot right out, all the same, and join
our mess.  Besides, I want you to pick out a horse for me, something
nice and quiet, 'cause I'm not a dead game rider, you know.  Same time
he must be good to look at, sound, and fit in every respect.  I've
already bought one this morning, a devilish pretty little mare, on Sile
Pine's say-so that she was gentle, but after a slight though very
trying experience, I'm afraid a bronco-buster's ideas of gentleness and
mine don't exactly agree."

"Why?  Did she throw you?" asked Ridge.

"Well, she didn't exactly throw me.  I was merely projected about a
thousand yards as though from a dynamite-gun, and then the brute tried
to chew me up.  You see she's a Mexican--what Mark Twain would call a
'genuine Mexican plug'--and doesn't seem to sabe United States; for
when I began to reason with her she simply went wild.  I left her
tearing through the camp like a steam-cyclone, and if we find anything
at all to show where it was located, it is more than I hope for.  But
there's a new lot of prime-looking cattle just arrived, and they are
going like hot cakes; so come along quick and help me get something
rideable."

Half an hour later Ridge found himself in the first army camp he had
ever visited, amid a body of men the most heterogeneous but typically
American ever gathered together.  Millionaire dudes and clubmen from
the great Eastern cities fraternized with the wildest representatives
of far Western life.  Men of every calling and social position, all
wearing blue flannel shirts and slouch hats, were here mingled on terms
of perfect equality.  They were drilling, shooting, skylarking, playing
cards, performing incredible feats on horseback, cooking, eating,
singing, yelling, and behaving in every respect like a lot of
irrepressible schoolboys out for a holiday.  Here a red-headed Irish
corporal damned the awkwardness of a young Boston swell, fresh from
Harvard, who had been detailed as cook in a company kitchen; while,
close at hand, a New-Yorker of the bluest blood was washing dishes with
the deftness gained from long experience on a New Mexican sheep-ranch.

As Ridge and Rollo passed through one of the canvas-bordered streets of
this unique camp, the former suddenly leaped aside with an exclamation
of alarm.  An unknown beast, fortunately chained, had made a spring at
him, with sharp claws barely missing his leg.

"You mustn't mind a little thing like that," laughed Rollo, with the
air of one to whom such incidents were of every-day occurrence.  "It's
only 'Josephine,' a young mountain lion from Arizona, and our
regimental mascot.  She's very playful."

"So it seems," replied Ridge, "and I suppose I shall learn to like her
if I join the regiment; but the introduction was a little startling."

A short distance beyond the camp was gathered a confused group of
officers, troopers, men in citizen's dress, some of whom were
swart-faced Mexicans, and horses.  To this Rollo led the way; and, as
the new-comers drew near they saw that for a moment all eyes were
directed towards a man engaged in a fierce struggle with a horse.  The
animal was a beautiful chestnut mare with slender limbs, glossy coat,
and superb form.  Good as she was to look upon, she was just then
exhibiting the spirit of a wild-cat or anything else that is most
savage and untamable, and was attempting, with desperate struggles, to
throw and kill the man who rode her.  He was our recent acquaintance,
Silas Pine, bronco-buster from the Bad Lands, who, with clinched teeth
and rigid features, was in full practice of his chosen profession.

All at once, no one could tell how, but with a furious effort the mare
shook off her hated burden, and, with a snort of triumph, dashed madly
away.  The man was flung heavily to the ground, where he lay motionless.

"That's my horse," remarked Rollo, quietly, "and Sile undertook to
either break or kill her.  Nice, gentle beast, isn't she?  Hello,
you're in luck, for there's Roosevelt now.  Oh, Teddy!  I say, Teddy!"

Two officers on horseback were approaching the scene, and in one of
them Ridge recognized his chance acquaintance of the evening before.
Towards this individual Van Kyp was running.

All at once the second officer, who proved to be Colonel Leonard Wood
of the regular army, now commanding the Riders, turned to a sergeant
who stood near by, and said, sharply:

"Arrest that man and take him to the guard-house.  We have had enough
of this 'Teddy' business, and I want it distinctly understood that
hereafter Lieutenant-Colonel Roosevelt is to receive the title of his
rank from every man in this command."

In another moment Rollo Van Kyp had been seized by the brawny sergeant,
lately a mounted policeman of New York city, and was being marched
protestingly away, leaving Ridge bewildered, friendless, and uncertain
what to do.




CHAPTER V

RIDGE BECOMES A TROOPER

While our hero stood irresolute, he saw Silas Pine gain a sitting
posture, and gaze about him with the air of one who is dazed.

[Illustration: "Silas Pine gazed about him with the air of one who is
dazed."]

"Are you badly hurt?" inquired Ridge, as he reached the man's side.

"I don't know," replied Silas, moving his limbs cautiously, and feeling
of various portions of his body to ascertain if any bones were broken.
"Reckon not.  But will you kindly tell me what happened?"

"You were breaking in Mr. Van Kyp's horse, and got thrown," replied
Ridge, as gravely as possible, but with an irrepressible smile lurking
in the corners of his mouth.

The bronco-buster, noting this, became instantly filled with wrath.

"Got thrown, did I?  And you think it a thing to laugh at, do you?
Well, you wouldn't if you'd been in my place.  I claim to know
something about hosses, and I tell you that's not one at all.  She's a
'hoss devil,' that's what she is, for all she looks quiet as a sheep.
But I'll kill her yet or die trying to tame her; for such a brute's not
fit to live."

"Won't you let me try my hand at it first?" asked Ridge.

"You? you?" exclaimed the man in contemptuous amazement.  "Yes, I will,
for if you are fool enough to tackle her, you are only fit to be
killed, and might as well die now as later.  Oh yes, young feller, you
can try it; only leave us a lock of your hair to remember you by, and
we'll give you a first-class funeral."

By this time two Mexican riders, who had started in pursuit of the
runaway animal, had cornered it in an angle of the high fence
surrounding the camp-grounds, flung their ropes over its head, and were
dragging it back, choking and gasping for breath, to the scene of its
recent triumph.

"Hold on!" cried Ridge in Spanish, running towards them as he spoke,
and shouting commands in their own language.

Slipping the cruel ropes from the neck of the quivering mare, that
stared at him with wild eyes, Ridge petted and soothed her, at the same
time talking gently in Spanish, a tongue that she showed signs of
understanding by pricking forward her shapely ears.  After a little
Ridge led the animal to a watering-trough, where she drank greedily,
and then into camp, where he begged a handful of sugar from one of the
cooks.

Some ten minutes later, without having yet attempted to gain the
saddle, he led the mare back to the place from which they had started,
all the while talking to her and stroking her glossy neck.

"Why don't you ride?" growled Silas Pine, who still remained on the
scene of his recent discomfiture, and had watched Ridge's movements
curiously.  "Any fool can lead a hoss to water and back again."

For answer Ridge gathered up the bridle reins, and placing his hands on
pommel and cantle, sprang lightly into the saddle.

The mare laid her ears flat back and began to tremble with rage, but
her rider, bending low over the proud neck, talked to her as though she
were a human being, and in another moment they were off like the wind.
Twice they circled the entire grounds at a speed as yet unequalled in
the camp, and then drew up sharply where Silas Pine still stood
awaiting them.

"Mr. Norris," said that individual, stepping forward, "I owe you an
apology, and must say I never saw a finer--"

Just here the mare snapped viciously at the bronco-buster, from whose
spurs her flanks were still bleeding, and leaped sideways with so
sudden a movement that any but a most practiced rider would have been
flung to the ground.  Without appearing in the least disconcerted by
this performance, Ridge began to reply to Silas Pine, but was
interrupted by the approach of the two mounted officers, who had
watched the recent lesson in bronco-breaking with deep interest.

"Can you do that with any horse?" inquired Lieutenant-Colonel
Roosevelt, abruptly.

"I believe I can, sir," replied Ridge, lifting his hand in salute.

"I heard you talking in Spanish.  Do you speak it fluently?"

"As well as I do English, sir."

"I believe you wish to enlist in this regiment?"

"I do, sir."

"You are a friend of Private Van Kyp?"

"Yes, sir."

"The one in whose behalf he was about to make application."

Ridge again answered in the affirmative.

"Colonel, I believe we want this young man."

"I believe we do," replied Colonel Wood.  Then, to Ridge, he added: "If
you can pass a satisfactory physical examination, I know of no reason
why you should not be permitted to join this command.  I want you to
understand, though, that every man admitted to it is chosen solely for
personal merit, and not through friendship or any influence, political
or otherwise, that he may possess.  Now you may take that horse to the
picket-line, see that it is properly cared for, and report at my
quarters in half an hour."

Without uttering a word in reply, but again saluting, Ridge rode away
happier than he had ever been in his life, and prouder even than when
he had won the silver hurdles at Yokohama.

An hour later he had successfully passed his physical examination, and
was waiting, with a dozen other recruits, to be sworn into the military
service of the United States.  To these men came Lieutenant-Colonel
Roosevelt, who had just resigned the Assistant-Secretaryship of the
Navy in order to join the front rank of those who were to fight his
country's battles.  To them he said: "Gentlemen, you have reached the
last point.  If any one of you does not mean business, let him say so
now.  In a few minutes more it will be too late to back out.  Once in,
you must see the thing through, performing without flinching whatever
duty is assigned to you, regardless of its difficulty or danger.  If it
be garrison duty, you must attend to it; if meeting the fever, you must
be willing; if it is the hardest kind of fighting, you must be anxious
for it.  You must know how to ride, how to shoot, and how to live in
the open, lacking all the luxuries and often the necessities of life.
No matter what comes, you must not squeal.  Remember, above everything,
that absolute obedience to every command is your first lesson.  Now
think it over, and if any man wishes to withdraw, he will be gladly
excused, for hundreds stand ready to take his place."

Did any of those young men accept this chance to escape the dangers and
privations, the hardships and sufferings, awaiting them?  Not one, but
all joined in an eager rivalry to first take the oath of allegiance and
obedience, and sign the regimental roll.

As it happened, this honor fell to Ridge Norris, and a few minutes
later he passed out of the building an enlisted soldier of the United
States, a private in its first regiment of volunteer cavalry, and
ordered to report to the first sergeant of Troop "K"--Rollo Van Kyp's
troop, he remembered with pleasure.  "Poor old boy! how I wish I could
see him and tell him of my good luck!" he reflected.  "Wonder how long
he will be kept in that beastly guard-house?"

At the moment our young trooper was passing headquarters, and even as
this thought came into his mind, he was bidden by Colonel Wood to
deliver a written order to the corporal of the guard.  "It is for the
release from arrest of your friend Van Kyp," explained the colonel,
kindly, "and you may tell him that it was obtained through the
intercession of Lieutenant-Colonel Roosevelt."

With a light heart Ridge hastened to perform this first act of his
military service; and not long afterwards he and Rollo were happily
engaged, under the supervision of Sergeant Higgins, in erecting the
little dog-tent that they were to occupy in company, and settling their
scanty belongings within its narrow limits.  When this was finally
accomplished to their satisfaction, they went to the picket-line to
visit the pretty and high-spirited mare that had been the immediate
cause of Ridge's good fortune.

"Isn't she a beauty?" he exclaimed, walking directly up to the mare,
and throwing an arm about her neck, a caress to which the animal
submitted with evident pleasure.

"Yes," admitted Rollo, hesitatingly, as he stepped nimbly aside to
avoid a snap of white teeth.  "I suppose she is, but she seems awfully
vicious, and I can't say that she is exactly the style of horse that I
most admire.  Tell you what I'll do, Norris.  I'll give her to you,
seeing that you and she seem to hit it off so well.  You've won her by
rights, anyhow."

Ridge's face flushed.  He already loved the mare, and longed to own
her, but his pride forbade him to accept so valuable a gift from one
who was but little more than a stranger.  So he said;

"Oh no!  Thanks, awfully, old man, but I couldn't think of taking her
in that way.  If you don't mind, though, I'll buy the mare of you,
gladly paying whatever you gave for her."

"Very good," replied Rollo, who imagined Ridge to be quite well off,
and to whom any question of money was of slight consequence.  "I paid
an even hundred dollars for her with saddle and bridle thrown in, and
if you won't accept her as a gift, you may have her for that sum."

"Done," said Ridge, "and here's your money."  With this he pulled from
his pocket the roll of bills that his father, bidding him not to spend
them recklessly, had thrust into his hand on parting, and which until
now he had not found occasion to touch.

Although this left our young soldier penniless, he did not for a moment
regret the transaction by which he had gained possession of what he
considered the very best mount in the whole regiment.  He at once named
the beautiful mare "Señorita," and upon her he lavished a wealth of
affection that seemed to be fully reciprocated.  While no one else
could do anything with her, in Ridge's hands she gained a knowledge of
cavalry tactics as readily as did her young master, and by her quick
precision of movement when on drill or parade she was instrumental in
raising him first to the grade of corporal, and then to that of
sergeant, which was the rank he held three weeks later, on the eve of
the Rough Riders' departure for Tampa.

In the mean time the days spent at San Antonio were full of active
interest and hard work from morning reveille until the mellow
trumpet-notes of taps.  At the same time it was work mixed with a vast
amount of harmless skylarking, in which both Ridge and Rollo took such
active part as to win the liking of every member of their troop.

Each day heard the same anxious inquiry from a thousand tongues: "When
shall we go to the front?  Is the navy going to fight out this war
without the army getting a show?"

"Be patient," counselled the wiser men, "and our chance will come.  The
powerful Spanish fleet under Admiral Cervera must first be located and
rendered harmless, while the army must be licked into effective shape
before it is allowed to fight."

They heard of the blockade by the navy of Havana and other Cuban ports,
of the apparently fruitless bombardment of San Juan in Porto Rico, and
of the great gathering of troops and transports at Tampa.  Finally came
the welcome news that the dreaded Spanish fleet was safely bottled by
Admiral Sampson in the narrow harbor of Santiago.

Then on the 29th of May, only a little more than one month after the
declaration of war, came the welcome order to move to Tampa and the
front.  Instantly the camp presented a scene of wildest bustle and
excitement.  One hundred railway cars, in six long trains, awaited the
Riders.  The regiment was drawn up as if for parade.

"Forward, march!" ordered Colonel Wood.

"On to Cuba!" sang the trumpets.

And the "Terrors" yelled themselves hoarse at the prospect of being let
loose.




CHAPTER VI

OFF FOR THE WAR

Of course Ridge had written home and informed his family of his
whereabouts as soon as he found himself regularly enlisted with the
Rough Riders.  The news afforded Mr. Norris immense satisfaction, while
Spence Cuthbert declared that if Ridge were her brother she should be
proud of him.

"If that is said for my benefit," remarked Dulce, "you may rest assured
that I am always proud of my brother.  I must confess, though, that I
should like it better if he were an officer; for, as I have never known
any private soldiers, I can't imagine what they are like.  It must be
very unpleasant, though, to have to associate with them all the time.
I wish Ridge had told us more about that Mr. Van Kyp who owns the car.
Of course, though, one of his wealth and position must be an officer, a
captain at the very least, and perhaps Ridge doesn't see much of him
now."

Mrs. Norris was greatly disappointed to find that all her efforts in
her son's behalf had been wasted That he should have deliberately
chosen to becoming a "common soldier," as she expressed it, instead of
accepting the commission offered him, was beyond her comprehension.
She mourned and puzzled over this until the arrival of Ridge's next
letter, which conveyed the gratifying intelligence that, having been
made a corporal, he was now an officer.  She did not know what a
corporal was, but that Ridge had risen above the ranks of "common
soldiers" was sufficient, and from that moment the fond mother began to
speak with pride of her son, who was an officer in the cavalry.

At length the quiet household was thrown into a flutter of excitement
by the receipt of a telegram, which read:

"Have again been promoted.  Regiment ordered to Tampa.  Leave to-day.
Meet us at Algiers, if possible."

Mr. Norris hurried into the city to consult railway officials
concerning the movements of the regiment, and found that the train
bearing his son's troop would pass through the city on the morrow.

Early the next morning, therefore, he escorted his wife and the girls
across the Mississippi, where, in the forlorn little town of Algiers,
they awaited as patiently as might be the coming of their soldier boy.
The mother's anxiety to meet her son was almost equalled by her desire
to see how handsome he would look in an officer's uniform.  Concerning
this she had formed a mental picture of epaulettes, gold lace, brass
buttons, plumes, and a sword; for had she not seen army officers in
Paris?

The two girls discussed as to whether or not Ridge was now travelling
in the same luxurious private car that had borne him to San Antonio.
Spence thought not, but Dulce believed he would be.  "Of course if
Ridge was still a private I don't suppose it would be good form for
_Captain_ Van Kyp to invite him," she said; "but now that he is an
officer, and perhaps even of equal rank, I can't imagine any reason why
they should not travel together as they did before."

There was no reason, and the joint proprietors of the little dog-tent,
of which, when in marching order, each carried one-half, were
travelling together on terms of perfect equality, as was discovered a
little later, when the long train, thickly coated with dust and
cinders, rumbled heavily into the station.  Heads protruded from every
window of the crowded coaches, and hundreds of eyes gazed approvingly
at the pretty girls who were anxiously looking for a private car, while
trying not to blush at the very audible compliments by which they were
greeted.

Suddenly they heard the familiar voice.  "Mother!  Father!  Girls!" it
called, and turning quickly in that direction, they discovered the
object of their search.  Sun-browned and dust-begrimed, his face
streaked by rivulets of perspiration, wearing a disreputable-looking
felt hat and a coarse blue flannel shirt, open at the throat, their
boy, beaming with delight, was eagerly beckoning to them.  Two other
cinder-hued faces were attempting to share the window with him, but
with only partial success.

The car doors were guarded, and no one was allowed to pass either in or
out until the train was safely on the great boat that was to transfer
it across the river.  There the turbulent stream of humanity was
permitted to burst forth, and in another moment a stalwart young
soldier, who seemed to have broadened by inches since she last saw him,
had flung his arms about Mrs. Norris's neck.  Then he shook hands with
his father and kissed both the girls, at which Spence Cuthbert blushed
more furiously than ever.

A score of young fellows, all as grimy as Ridge, and all wearing the
same uniform, watched this performance curiously, and now the latter
began to present them.

"This is First Sergeant Higgins, mother, of our troop, and Mr. Gridley,
and Mr. Pine of North Dakota.  Dulce, allow me to introduce my
tentmate, Mr. Van Kyp."

So he rattled off name after name, until the poor girls were thoroughly
bewildered, and could not tell which belonged to whom, especially, as
Dulce said, when they all looked exactly alike in those absurd hats,
horrid flannel shirts, and ridiculous leggings.

Rollo Van Kyp was the only one of whose name and personality she felt
certain, which is probably the reason she allowed that persuasive young
trooper to escort her to the forward deck of the boat, where they
remained until the river was almost crossed.  After a while Ridge and
Spence also strolled off together, ostensibly to find Dulce and Rollo,
though they did not succeed until the farther shore was nearly reached,
when all four came back together.

Rollo Van Kip had lost his hat, while Dulce held tightly in one
daintily gloved hand a curious-looking package done up in newspaper.
At the same time Spence Cuthbert blushed whenever something in the
pocket of her gown gave forth a metallic jingle, and glanced furtively
about to see if any one else had heard it.

A few days later Dulce appeared in a new riding-hat, which at once
attracted the admiration and envy of all her girl friends.  At the same
time it was a very common affair, exactly like those worn by Uncle
Sam's soldier boys, and on its front was rudely traced in lead pencil
the words, "Troop K, Roosevelt's Rough Riders."  In fact, it was one of
the very hats that Dulce herself had recently designated as "absurd."

About the same time that Miss Norris appeared wearing a trooper's hat
her friend Miss Cuthbert decorated the front of her riding-jacket with
brass buttons.  When Sergeant Norris sharply reprimanded Private Van
Kyp for losing his hat, Rollo answered that he considered himself
perfectly excusable for so doing, since in a breeze strong enough to
blow the buttons off a sergeant's blouse a hat stood no show to remain
on its owner's head, whereupon the other abruptly changed the subject.

In the mean time Mrs. Norris, who had recognized among the names of the
young men presented to her those of some of the best-known families of
the country, was surrounded by a group of Ridge's friends, who, as they
all wore the same uniform that he did, she imagined must also be
officers.  So she delighted their hearts and rose high in their
estimation by treating them with great cordiality, and calling them
indiscriminately major, captain, or whatever military title happened on
the end of her tongue.  This she did until her husband appeared on the
scene with Lieutenant-Colonel Roosevelt, whom he had known in
Washington.  The moment the fond mother discovered this gentleman to be
her son's superior officer, she neglected every one else to ply him
with questions.

"Did he think her boy would make a fine soldier?  Was Ridge really an
officer?  If so, what was his rank, and why did he not wear a more
distinctive uniform?  Did _General_ Roosevelt believe there would be
any fighting, and if there was, would he not order Ridge to remain in
the safest places?"

To all of these questions the Lieutenant-Colonel managed to return most
satisfactory answers.  He thought Ridge was in a fair way to make a
most excellent soldier, seeing that he had already gained the rank of
sergeant, which was very rapid promotion, considering the short time
the young man had been in the service.  As to his uniform, he now wore
that especially designed for active campaigning, which Mrs. Norris must
know was much less showy than one that would be donned for dress
parades in time of peace.  Yes, he fancied there might be a little
fighting, in which case he meditated giving Ridge a place behind
Sergeant Borrowe's dynamite gun, where he would be as safe as in any
other position on the whole firing line.

Not only was Mrs. Norris greatly comforted by these kindly assurances,
but she received further evidence that her boy was indeed an officer
entitled to command and be obeyed when the troopers were ordered to
re-enter the cars, for she heard him say:

"Come, boys, tumble in lively!  Now, Rollo, get a move on."

Certainly an officer to whom even _Captain_ Van Kyp yielded obedience
must be of exalted rank.

There was some delay in starting the train, which was taken advantage
of by Mr. Norris to disappear, only to return a few minutes later,
followed by a porter bearing a great basket of fruit.  This was given
to Ridge for distribution among his friends.  Spence Cuthbert also
shyly handed him a box of choice candies, which she had carried all
this time; but Dulce, seeing her brother thus well provided, gave her
box to Rollo Van Kyp--a proceeding that filled the young millionaire
with delight, and caused him to be furiously envied by every other man
in the car.

Finally the heavy train began slowly to pull out, its occupants raised
a mighty cheer, the trumpeters sounded their liveliest quickstep, and
those left behind, waving their handkerchiefs and shouting words of
farewell, felt their eyes fill with sudden tears.  Until this moment
the war had been merely a subject for careless discussion, a thing
remote from them and only affecting far-away people.  Now it was real
and terrible.  Their nearest and dearest was concerned in it.  They had
witnessed the going of those who might never return.  From that moment
it was their war.

On Thursday, June 2d, with their long, dusty journey ended, the last of
the Rough Riders reached Tampa, hot and weary, but in good spirits, and
eager to be sent at once to the front.  They found 25,000 troops,
cavalry, infantry, and artillery, most of them regulars, already
encamped in the sandy pine barrens surrounding the little city, and
took their place among them.

At Port Tampa, nine miles away, lay the fleet of transports provided to
carry them to Cuba.  Here they had lain for many days.  Here the army
had waited for weeks, sweltering in the pitiless heat, suffering the
discomforts of a campaign without its stimulant of excitement,
impatient of delay, and sick with repeated disappointments.  The
regulars were ready for service; the volunteers thought they were, but
knew better a few weeks later.  Time and again orders for embarkation
were received, only to be revoked upon rumors of ghostly warships
reported off some distant portion of the coast.  Spain was playing her
old game of _mañana_ at the expense of the Americans, and inducing her
powerful enemy to refrain from striking a blow by means of terrifying
rumors skilfully circulated through the so-called "yellow journals" of
the great American cities, which readily published any falsehood that
provided a sensation.  At length, however, the last bogie appeared to
be laid, and one week after the Riders reached Tampa a rumor of an
immediate departure, more definite than any that had preceded it,
flashed through the great camp: "Everything is ready, and to-morrow we
shall surely embark for Santiago."




CHAPTER VII

THE STORY OF HOBSON AND THE _MERRIMAC_

Only half the regiment was to go, and no horses could be taken, except
a few belonging to officers.  The capacity of the transports was
limited, and though troops were packed into them like sardines into a
can, there was only room for 15,000 men, together with a few horses, a
pack-train of mules, four light batteries, and two of siege-guns.  So,
thousands of soldiers, heartbroken by disappointment, and very many
things important to the success of a campaign, were to be left behind.

Two dismounted squadrons of the Rough Riders were chosen to accompany
the expedition, which, with the exception of themselves and two
regiments of volunteer infantry, was composed of regulars; and, to the
great joy of Ridge and his immediate friends, their troop was among
those thus selected.  But their joy was dimmed by being dismounted, and
Ridge almost wept when obliged to part with his beloved mare.

However, as Rollo philosophically remarked, "Everything goes in time of
war, or rather most everything does, and what can't go must be left
behind."

So five hundred of the horseless riders were piled into a train of
empty coal-cars, each man carrying on his person in blanket roll and
haversack whatever baggage he was allowed to take, and they were
rattled noisily away to Port Tampa, where, after much vexatious delay,
they finally boarded the transport _Yucatan_, and felt that they were
fairly off for Cuba.

But not yet.  Again came a rumor of strange war-ships hovering off the
coast, and with it a frightened but imperative order from Washington to
wait.  So they waited in the broiling heat, crowded almost to
suffocation in narrow spaces--men delicately reared and used to every
luxury, men who had never before breathed any but the pure air of
mountain or boundless plain--and their only growl was at the delay that
kept them from going to where conditions would be even worse.  They ate
their coarse food whenever and wherever they could get it, drank tepid
water from tin cups that were equally available for soup or coffee, and
laughed at their discomforts.  "But why don't they let us go?" was the
constant cry heard on all sides at all hours.

During this most tedious of all their waitings, only one thing of real
interest happened.  They had heard of the daring exploit of Naval
Lieutenant Richmond Pearson Hobson, who, on the night of June 3d, had
sunk the big coal-steamer _Merrimac_ in the narrowest part of Santiago
Harbor, in the hope of thus preventing the escape of Admiral Cervera's
bottled fleet, and they had exulted over this latest example of
dauntless American heroism, but none of the details had yet reached
them.

On one of their waiting days a swift steam-yacht, now an armed
government despatch-boat, dashed into Tampa Bay, and dropped anchor
near the _Yucatan_.  Rumor immediately had it that she was from the
blockading fleet of Santiago, and every eye was turned upon her with
interest.  A small boat carried her commanding officer ashore, and
while he was gone another brought one of her juniors, Ensign Dick
Comly, to visit his only brother, who was a Rough Rider.  The _Speedy_
had just come from Santiago, and of course Ensign Comly knew all about
Hobson.  Would he tell the story of the _Merrimac_?  Certainly he
would, and so a few minutes after his arrival the naval man was
relating the thrilling tale as follows:

"I don't suppose many of you fellows ever heard of Hobson before this,
but every one in the navy knew of him long ago.  He is from Alabama,
was the youngest man in the Naval Academy class of '89, graduated
number 2, was sent abroad to study naval architecture, and, upon
returning to this country, was given the rank of Assistant Naval
Constructor.  At the beginning of this war he was one of the
instructors at Annapolis, but immediately applied for active duty, and
was assigned to the _New York_.

"When Victor Blue, of the _Suwanee_, had proved beyond a doubt by going
ashore and counting them that all of Cervera's ships were in Santiago
Harbor, Hobson conceived the plan of keeping them there by taking in a
ship and sinking it across the channel.  Of course it was a perfectly
useless thing to do, for Sampson's fleet is powerful enough to lick the
stuffing out of the whole Spanish navy, if only it could get the
chance.  However, the notion took with the Admiral, and Hobson was told
to go ahead.

"He selected the collier _Merrimac_, a big iron steamer 300 feet long,
stripped her of all valuable movables, and fastened a lot of torpedoes
to her bottom.  Each one of these was sufficiently powerful to sink the
ship, and all were connected by wires with a button on the bridge.
Hobson's plan was to steam into the channel at full speed, regardless
of mines or batteries, and anchor his ship across the narrowest part of
the channel.  There he proposed to blow her up and sink her.  What was
to become of himself and the half dozen men who were to go with him I
don't know, and don't suppose he cared.

"At the same time there was some provision made for escape in case any
of them survived the blowing up of their ship.  They carried one small
dingy along, and an old life-raft was left on board.  A steam-launch
from the _New York_ was to follow them close in under the batteries,
and lie there so long as there was a chance of picking any of them up,
or until driven off.  Cadets Palmer and Powell, each eager to go on
this service, drew lots to see which should command the launch, and
luck favored the latter.

"When it was known that six men were wanted to accompany Hobson to
almost certain death, four thousand volunteered, and three thousand
nine hundred and ninety-four were mightily disappointed when the other
six were chosen."

"I should have felt just as they did if I had been left in camp," said
Ridge, who was following this story with eager interest.

"Me too," replied Rollo Van Kyp, to whom the remark was addressed.

"The worst of it was," continued the Ensign, "that those fellows didn't
get to go, after all, for when they had put in twenty-four hours of
hard work on the _Merrimac_, with no sleep and but little to eat, only
kept up by the keenest kind of excitement, it was decided to postpone
the attempt until the following night.  At the same time the Admiral,
fearing the nerve of the men would be shaken by so long a strain,
ordered them back to their ships, with thanks for their devotion to the
service, and selected six others to take their places.  The poor
fellows were so broken up by this that some of them cried like babies."

"It was as bad as though we should be ordered to remain behind now,"
said Ridge.

"Yes," answered Rollo.  "But that would be more than I could bear.  I'd
mutiny and refuse to go ashore.  Wouldn't you?"

"I should certainly feel like it," laughed the former.  "But orders are
orders, and we have sworn to obey them, you know.  At the same time
there's no cause for worry.  We are certain to go if any one does."

"Yes, me and Teddy--" began Rollo, but Ridge silenced him that they
might hear the continuation of the Ensign's story.

"At three o'clock on Friday morning, the 3d," resumed Comly, "the
_Merrimac_ left the fleet and steamed in towards Santiago entrance.  On
board, besides Hobson and his six chosen men, was one other, a coxswain
of the _New York_, who had helped prepare the collier for her fate, and
at the last moment stowed himself away in her hold for the sake of
sharing it.

"With Hobson on the bridge, two men at the wheel, two in the
engine-room, two stoking, and one forward ready to cut away the anchor,
the doomed ship entered the narrow water-way and passed the outer line
of mines in safety.  Then the Spaniards discovered her, and from the
way they let loose they must have thought the whole American fleet was
trying to force the passage.  In an instant she was the focus for a
perfect cyclone of shot and shell from every gun that could be brought
to bear, on both sides of the channel.

"It was like rushing into the very jaws of hell, with mines exploding
all about her, solid shot and bursting shells tearing at her vitals,
and a cloud of Mauser bullets buzzing like hornets across her deck.
How she lived to get where she was wanted is a mystery; but she did,
and they sunk her just inside the Estrella battery.  At the last they
could not steer her, because her rudder was knocked away.  So they
anchored, waited as cool as cucumbers for the tide to swing her into
position, opened all their sea-valves, touched off their torpedoes, and
blew her up.

"So far everything had worked to perfection.  The seven men, still
unhurt, were well aft, where Hobson joined them the moment he had
pressed the button; but now their troubles began.  The dingy in which
they had hoped to escape had been shot to pieces, and they dared not
try to get their raft overboard, for the growing light would have
revealed their movements, and they would have been a target for every
gunner and rifleman within range.  So they could only lie flat on deck
and wait for something to happen.  A little after daybreak the ship
sank so low and with such a list that the raft slipped into the water
and floated of its own accord.  On this all of them, including two had
been wounded by flying splinters, rolled overboard after it, caught
hold of the clumsy old float, and tried to swim it out to where Powell
could pick them up.  They had only gained a few yards when a
steam-launch coming from the harbor bore down on them.  Some marines in
the bow were about to open fire, when Hobson sang out, 'Is there any
officer on board that launch entitled to receive the surrender of
prisoners of war?'

"'Yes, señor, there is,' answered a voice, which also ordered the
marines not to fire, and I'll be blowed if Admiral Cervera himself
didn't stick his head out from under the awning.  The old fellow was as
nice as pie to Hobson and his men, told them they had done a fine
thing, took them back to his ship, fed them, fitted them out with dry
clothing, and then sent Captain Oviedo, his chief of staff, out to the
_New York_, under a flag of truce, to report that the _Merrimac's_
crew, though prisoners, were alive and well.  He also offered to carry
back any message or supplies the American Admiral might choose to send
them.  Didn't every soul in that fleet yell when the signal of Hobson's
safety was made?  Well, I should rather say we did.  I only hope old
Cervera will fall into our hands some day, so that we can show him how
we appreciate his decency."

"Three cheers for the Spanish Admiral right now!" shouted Ridge, and
the yell that instantly rose from the deck of the _Yucatan_ in reply
was heard on shore for a mile inland.

The noise had barely subsided when a voice called for Sergeant Norris.

"Here I am.  Who wants me?" replied Ridge, inquiringly.

"Take your belongings ashore, sir, and report back at camp
immediately," was the startling response, delivered in the form of an
order by Major Herman Dodley, who was now on the staff of the
commanding general.  "I have a boat in waiting.  If you are ready
within two minutes I will set you ashore.  Otherwise you will suffer
the consequences of your own delay," added the Major, who, while on
duty at Port Tampa, had received by telegraph the orders he was now
carrying out.




CHAPTER VIII

CHARGED WITH A SECRET MISSION

Having ascertained from the captain of his troop that the order brought
by Major Dodley was one that must be obeyed, Ridge went below with a
very heavy heart to collect his scanty possessions.  As he did so his
thoughts were full of bitterness.  Why should any one be sent back to
that hateful camp, and for what reason had he been singled out from all
his fellows?  It looked as though he were being disgraced, or at least
chosen for some duty that would keep him from going to Cuba, which
would be almost as bad.  At the same time he could not imagine what he
had done to incur the displeasure of his superiors.  It was all a
mystery, and a decidedly unpleasant one.  That the order should come
through Dodley, too, whom he particularly disliked, was adding insult
to injury.

"I'd rather swim ashore than go with that man!" he exclaimed to Rollo
Van Kyp, who, full of sympathy, and genuinely distressed at the
prospect of their separation, had gone below with him.  Ridge had told
his chum all about Dodley, whom they had discovered lounging on a
breezy veranda of the great Tampa Bay hotel a few days before, so that
now the latter fully comprehended his feelings.

"It's a beastly shame!" cried Rollo; "or rather it's two beastly
shames, and if you say so, old man, we'll just quietly chuck that Major
fellow overboard, so that you can have his boat all to yourself.  Then,
instead of going ashore, you head down the bay for some place where you
can hide until we come along and pick you up."

"That's a great scheme," replied Ridge, with a sorrowful little smile,
"but I am afraid it wouldn't work, and so there is nothing left for me
but submission to the inevitable.  I do hate to go with Dodley, though."

Just here Ensign Comly appeared on the scene with his brother, whom he
was bidding farewell.

"I say, Comly!" cried Rollo, who knew him, "why can't you set my friend
Norris here ashore?  It wouldn't be much out of your way, would it?"

"Not at all," answered the ensign, courteously.  "And I should be
pleased to accommodate any friend of yours.  I must go at once, though;
so, if Mr. Norris will come on deck--"

"Oh, but that won't do," interrupted Van Kyp.  "He must get off the
ship without any one on deck seeing him."  With this he explained the
situation to the ensign, who readily grasped it, and said:

"All right.  I'll run my boat in under this sideport, and he can drop
out of it if the sentry will let him pass."

Of course the guard at the wide freight port left open for a better
circulation of air between decks would allow Ridge to pass, for he was
one of their own troop, and knew that the sergeant had been ordered
ashore.  To give him further assurance that everything was all right,
Ridge said:

"It is my duty, you know, to go in the first boat that offers, since
Major Dodley undoubtedly left some time since.  He said he would only
wait two minutes, and as that was fully five minutes ago, he ought to
be ashore by now."

Thus it happened that while the messenger who had been ordered to fetch
Sergeant Norris of the Rough Riders was still fuming over the
unpardonable delay of the trooper, and threatening all sorts of
unpleasant things for him when he did appear, Ridge gained the railroad
wharf without being observed from the deck of the transport.  There,
finding an empty train just starting for Tampa, he was able to present
himself in camp half an hour later.  From it he was sent to
headquarters, with orders to report to Lieutenant-Colonel Roosevelt,
who had come ashore early that morning.  This Ridge hastened to do,
without waiting to answer any of the eager questions showered upon him
by his recent comrades of the camp.

At the hotel occupied as headquarters an orderly conducted him to the
office of the commanding general, where, upon admittance, he found
himself not only in the presence of his own superior officer, but of a
group of distinguished looking men in uniform, who, as he afterwards
discovered, were Generals Miles, Shafter, Lee, and Lawton, and
Lieutenant Boldwood of the navy, now in command of the despatch boat
_Speedy_, recently arrived.

"General," said Lieutenant-Colonel Roosevelt, addressing the
commander-in-chief, "this is Sergeant Norris of my regiment, the man
whom I recommended for your purpose, and for whom you sent less than an
hour ago."

"Where were you when ordered to report here?" asked General Miles,
turning abruptly to Ridge.

"On board the transport _Yucatan_, lying off Port Tampa, sir."

"Then you are one of the few men whom I have discovered among our
volunteers who have learned the lesson of _prompt_ obedience," remarked
the general, with a slight scowl on his still handsome though deeply
lined face.

"Umph!" snorted General Shafter, who was a big man, weighing about
three hundred pounds, and whose hair was sadly rumpled, as though by
much perplexity.

General Lee, also a large, fine-looking man, smiled approvingly at the
prompt young trooper, while General "Iron" Lawton, spare of figure and
with a reputation as a fighter, gave him a penetrating glance, that
Ridge knew had indelibly fixed his face upon the soldier's memory.  The
naval man also regarded him with interest, and our hero, greatly
confused at being thus observed, was relieved to have General Miles
proceed, to question him further.

"I understand that you speak Spanish like a native."

"I do, sir."

"Have you ever been in Cuba?"

"No, sir."

"Or travelled in Spain?"

"Yes, sir."

"Acquainted with its principal cities?"

"I am, sir," replied Ridge, wondering in what direction these questions
were tending.

"Are you willing to encounter great risks and undergo great hardships
in your country's service?"

"Certainly I am, sir," answered the young trooper, with flushed face,
for he began to suspect that some more important duty was to be
required of him than simply remaining in camp.

"In that case I am going to offer you the chance of winning your
country's gratitude, and possibly with it an ignominious death.  It is
deemed imperative that some one intrusted with grave secrets should
immediately set forth on an important mission to Cuba.  If his identity
is discovered before the task is completed, his fate will undoubtedly
be that of a spy.  Knowing this fact, are you ready to undertake it?"

"I am, sir," was the decisive reply.

"Good!  A commissioned officer was selected for this duty, but he is
prevented by illness from performing it.  You have been chosen to take
his place on the recommendation of Colonel Roosevelt because of your
knowledge of Spanish, your military record, and because you are a
native-born American.  I could have found plenty of Cubans to undertake
the mission, and possibly one of them would have carried it to a
satisfactory ending, but I wanted an American."

"Plain North American Yankee," growled General Shafter.

"As you know," continued General Miles, "a powerful expedition is about
to leave this place for Cuba.  Very few persons have any idea where it
is to land; but you must know that in about ten days from now it will
appear off Daiquiri, some twelve miles east of Santiago, in which city
I want you to be at that time.  You will sail to-night in the
despatch-boat _Speedy_, of which this gentleman, Lieutenant Boldwood,
is the commander.  Within three days he will land you on the northern
coast of the province of Santiago.  During the following week I want
you to visit the Spanish commanders at Holguin, Jiguani, and Santiago,
to all of whom you will bear what purport to be important despatches
from Señor Carranza, chief of the Spanish secret service in North
America, whose headquarters are in Montreal.

"You will represent yourself to be José Remelio, one of the clerks
attached to the recent Spanish Legation at Washington.  You will
estimate the strength and condition of the Spanish forces in the
province.  Also, you will meet as many of the insurgent leaders as
possible, inform them of the coming of our expedition, and impress upon
them the necessity of intercepting supplies or re-inforcements for
Santiago.  For the sake of appearances, I authorize you to assume any
military rank up to that of Captain you may deem advisable.  You will
also be given the secret countersign of the Cuban Junta, which will
secure for you good treatment among all Cubans of intelligence."

"His best safeguard among Cubans should be that he is an American
soldier," suggested General Lawton.

"You will perceive," continued General Miles, "that I have laid out a
vast amount of work for you to perform in a very short time; but you
will be provided with plenty of money, and by procuring a good horse as
soon as possible after landing I believe you can accomplish it.  I hope
you will be able to reach Santiago and gain a knowledge of its
defences; but no matter where you are, when you hear that our army has
landed, make your way to it with all speed, and report immediately to
the commanding general.  Is all this clear? and have you anything to
suggest?"

"Your instructions are perfectly clear, sir," replied Ridge, his voice
trembling with excitement, "and I only want to suggest that instead of
depending upon Cuban horses for transportation across the island, I be
allowed to take my own from here."

"Are you sure that your horse is enough better than those of the island
to warrant carrying it to such a distance?"

"I can vouch for that, General," interposed Lieutenant-Colonel
Roosevelt.  "Sergeant Norris has one of the very best horses in our
regiment, and one that has developed almost human intelligence under
his training."

"No one realizes the value of a reliable horse in times of danger
better than I," rejoined General Miles.  "I wonder, though, if it will
be possible to carry one on the _Speedy_?"

"I believe we can manage it, General," said Lieutenant Boldwood.

"Very, well, then, you may take your own horse.  How will you get it to
the port?"

"I think the simplest and probably the quickest way will be to ride
her, sir."

"Then do so with all haste, for I want the _Speedy_ to sail this very
evening, and within two hours, if possible.  You will receive your
despatches, funds, and promised countersign after you get on board.
Good-bye.  Good luck to you, and remember that your proposed movements
must be kept absolutely secret outside of this room."

Ridge had barely taken his departure after shaking hands with the
several generals, who rose to bid him farewell, when a telegraph
message was handed to General Shafter.  He read it with perplexity,
studied it for a few moments, and then burst into a roar of laughter.
It was from his aide, Major Dodley, had been sent from Port Tampa, and
read as follows:

"I charge Sergeant Norris of Rough Riders with contempt, disobedience
of orders, and desertion.  Saw him aboard transport, and delivered your
order, whereupon he disappeared.  Have searched ship without
discovering trace of him.  He has undoubtedly deserted."

"Some persons are fools occasionally," remarked the big General, "while
others are never anything else.  I don't think Dodley belongs to the
former class."




CHAPTER IX

HERMAN DODLEY INTERPOSES DIFFICULTIES

After leaving headquarters, and while making his way back to camp, our
hero was in a state of hardly-to-be-repressed excitement.  Was one of
his age and limited experience ever intrusted with so important a
mission?  He did not believe it possible, and was so filled with pride
that it seemed as though every person he passed ought to regard him
with respectful interest.  As one after another only glanced at him
carelessly or failed to notice him at all, he wondered at their
stupidity, and felt like compelling their attention by proclaiming his
great secret.

At camp the situation was even more aggravating, for every one was so
intent on his own affairs or so unhappy at being left behind that Ridge
found himself barely noticed.  Several questioned him concerning his
return, and one asked if the whole regiment was ordered back.

"Not that I know of," answered Ridge.  "I believe I am the only one
thus far."

"Well, I'm glad you have been sent to the rear, and only wish all the
others were as well, for it's a beastly outrage that some should be
taken and others left.  Just as if we weren't as good as any of them!"
was the bitter comment.

"Without reply, Ridge turned towards the place where he had left his
blanket roll, only to encounter another shock to his recent pride.  An
officer met him.

"Hello!  What troop do you belong to?" he asked, suspiciously.

"Troop K, sir," answered Ridge, saluting.

"I thought so.  What are you doing here?"

"I was ordered ashore."

"Humph!  Without any reason at all, I suppose."

Ridge remained silent.

"Oh, well, if you don't choose to tell why you are in disgrace you
needn't, but you may report to the cook of the officers' mess, who is
in need of an assistant."

Here was a dilemma.  Ridge could not, of course, obey this order, since
every moment was precious.  To disobey would cause his arrest and
detention in the guard-house.  Nor could he inform even this officer of
the secret mission on which he was engaged.  At that moment evening
stable-call was sounded, and a happy inspiration came to his relief.

"Very well, sir," he answered, turning as if to obey the order.  Then
he added, "May I look after my horse first?"

"I suppose so," replied the officer.  "Only be quick about it, for the
cook is badly in need of some one to help him."

So, without making a further attempt to recover his personal
belongings, Ridge hastened to the picket-line, where Señorita
manifested most extravagant joy at again seeing her young master.

"Is that your horse?" inquired the non-commissioned officer in charge
of the stable guard.

Upon Ridge acknowledging that the mare was his, the other continued;

"Well, I'm mighty glad you've come to look after her, for she has
nearly killed two men already, and we were just wondering whether we
should kill her or turn her loose.  Now you'd better take her to water."

"May I put on a saddle and bridle?" inquired Ridge.

"Of course not.  Who ever heard of riding a cavalry horse to water any
way but bareback?"

So the young trooper was obliged to set forth on| his great undertaking
without equipment of any kind.  In his joy at finding himself once more
in possession of his beloved "Rita," this did not trouble him; and
untying the mare's halter, he leaped to her back.  In an instant they
were dashing off at full speed, followed by jeers from all who
witnessed the proceeding, and who imagined the mare to be running away
with her present rider, as she had with every other who had attempted
to take her to water during her master's absence.

The camp was quickly left behind, and knowing his general direction,
Ridge soon found himself on the road to Port Tampa.  It was a hard ride
to make without saddle or bridle, and long before the welcome lights
marking the mile-long pier of the port came into view the young soldier
was aching in every bone.  The dim road through the solemn pines was so
heavy with sand that it took even fleet-footed Rita more than an hour
to cover the distance, and night had closed in before their destination
was reached.

It was with many misgivings that Ridge rode out on the long pier,
which, never intended for the use of horses or wagons, carried only a
sidewalk for pedestrians beside its railway-track, for Rita regarded
locomotives with the utmost terror.  Still, he believed he must go to
the extreme outer end, where the big steamers lay, and where he hoped
to find either the _Speedy_ herself or some one from her to direct his
movements.  Half-way out he discovered a train coming directly towards
them, and, to avoid it, turned his mare on to the platform that served
as front yard to the pretty little inn that was here built over the
water.

At this moment a figure in white duck approached him.  It was Ensign
Comly of the _Speedy_.

"You are the very man I was sent to look for!" he cried.  "I thought
you might be coming out here, and so was on my way to head you off and
turn you back.  You see, the end of the pier is so crowded that our
craft can't lie alongside.  So Captain Boldwood got hold of a small
scow, which he has sent in to shore, towed by one of our boats, to take
you off.  We'll just about meet it if we hurry."

By this time the unusual sight of a horse in that place had aroused
much curiosity among the guests of the inn, who came out to see what
was going on.  Among them was an army officer, who uttered an
exclamation the moment his eyes rested on Ridge standing in the glow of
an electric light.  Stepping quickly up to him, he placed a heavy hand
on the young trooper's shoulder, and said, in a harsh voice:

"I arrest you, sir, and order you to come at once with me to my camp on
shore, where a guard-house awaits you."

"On what charge am I arrested?" asked Ridge, calmly, turning, and
looking Major Herman Dodley full in the face.

"On the several charges of contempt for an officer, disobedience of
orders, and desertion," was the startling reply.

"Very well, sir, I'll go with you," said Ridge, "seeing that I was
going in that direction anyhow."

"But--" remonstrated Ensign Comly.

"Who are you, sir?  And what have you to say regarding this business?"
demanded the Major, fiercely, at the same time drawing and cocking his
revolver.

"Only a United States officer."

"Then, in the name of the United States, I call upon you to assist me
in carrying this deserter to a place of security," shouted the Major,
in theatrical tones.

"Pretend to agree," said Ridge, in a low voice, heard only by Comly.

"All right, Major, I'll see the thing through," agreed the navy man;
"though I must protest that it is wholly out of my line of business."

With this the three set forth, Ridge leading Rita, and the officers
walking on either side of him.  For some distance they proceeded in a
silence that was finally broken by the sound of oars, apparently close
to the pier, which touched land but a short distance ahead.  At the
same time a train of cars came thundering over the hollow structure
behind them, causing the mare to plunge violently in a terrified effort
to escape.

"Now is your chance!" whispered Comly.

Quick to take the hint, Ridge flung himself on the animal's back and
dashed away, followed by a harmless bullet from Herman Dodley's
revolver.

Ere he could fire another shot the naval man snatched away the weapon,
flung it into the sea, and started on a run after the disappearing
horseman.  As he ran he shouted: "Look out for that horse, you in the
boat, and get it aboard lively!  Do you understand?"

"Ay, ay, sir," came a cheery answer from out of the darkness.

Behind the Ensign ran Major Dodley, swearing, and also shouting:

"Corporal of the guard!  Turn out the guard!  Quick!  This way!"

Then all other sounds were drowned in the roar of the passing train.
When it subsided a confused struggle between a dark mass and a number
of dimly seen white forms was going on in the shallow water.  Several
sailors were lifting Señorita bodily into a little flat-bottomed boat,
and two young men in soaked uniforms were aiding them.  Then, as two
boats, one in tow of the other, began to move away, a squad of soldiers
with muskets in their hands came running down to the beach.

"Fire!" commanded Herman Dodley, beside himself with rage.  "Fire at
that boat.  A deserter is escaping in it."

"Don't you dare fire!" came back in a stern tone from the darkness.
"This is a boat from a United States man-of-war, commanded by an
officer in the discharge of his duty."

The bewildered soldiers hesitated, and then, in compliance with
repeated orders, coupled with threats, from their Major, fired a few
harmless shots in the air, after which they returned to camp.  There
Herman Dodley prepared another telegraphic report for General Shafter,
that aroused that irascible warrior to profanity, and resulted in the
speedy transference of his offending aide to New Orleans on recruiting
service.

So our hero was at length fairly started on his momentous mission, with
its secret yet undivulged.  As the _Speedy_, with the bewildered
Señorita and her young master safely on board, slipped swiftly past the
great transport _Yucatan_, Ridge, shivering in his wet clothing, said
to Ensign Comly, who also shivered, "How I wish I could call out and
tell Rollo all about it!"

"Yes, wouldn't it make him open his eyes?  But you can't, so let's go
below for something dry."




CHAPTER X

ON THE CUBAN BLOCKADE

Twelve hours after leaving Tampa Bay the swift despatch-boat on which
Ridge Norris was a passenger entered the northwest passage of Key West
Harbor, and was headed towards the quaint island city that had been
brought into such sudden prominence by the war.  The port was filled
with United States cruisers, gun-boats, yachts converted into
torpedo-boat destroyers, Government hospital-ships, and others flying
the flag of the Red Cross Society, transports, colliers, supply-ships,
water-boats, and a huddle of prizes--steamers and sailing-vessels
captured off the Cuban coast.  Amid these the _Speedy_ slowly threaded
her devious way to the Government dock.

The hot tropical-looking city, with palm-trees towering above its
low-roofed houses, was filled to overflowing with soldiers, sailors,
newspaper correspondents, refugees from Cuba, and a multitude of other
persons, all attracted by its proximity to the seat of war.  From every
mast-head and prominent building the stars and stripes were flung to
the breeze that swept in from the sea; while from more humble
positions, but in even greater numbers, fluttered the flag of free
Cuba.  On every point commanding the harbor mouth batteries were being
erected and great guns mounted.  Bands played national airs, and one
man-of-war enveloped in a cloud of white smoke was engaged in
target-practice with her secondary battery.  Every Government vessel in
the harbor had on war paint of invisible lead color, not pretty, but
most business-like in appearance.  All were also in fighting-trim, with
topmasts lowered and every superfluity removed from their decks.  The
whole scene was of exciting interest, and Ridge gazed eagerly upon it
as Ensign Comly pointed out its various features, with explanatory
remarks.

There were several reasons why the _Speedy_ should stop at Key West.
One was that she might receive mail and despatches for the blockading
fleet.  Another was to procure a bale of hay and some corn for
Señorita, since, in their hurried departure from Tampa, these had been
forgotten, and thus far she had been fed on sea-biscuit.  A third
reason was that Ridge might procure a saddle and bridle, besides a few
other necessary articles of outfit for his proposed trip.

He had already been furnished with his bogus despatches to Spanish
commanders, every word of which he had carefully read, to see that they
contained no compromising errors, and with a supply of money.  Now he
provided himself with a repeating-rifle in a water-proof case, a
revolver, fifty rounds of ammunition for each, an India-rubber poncho,
a small quantity of quinine, a phial of powerful cholera mixture, a
stout sheath-knife, and a tin cup.

Within an hour the _Speedy_ was again off, running out of the south
channel, past the grim walls of old Fort Taylor, and a few miles
farther on passing Sand Key light, which rises from a bit of coral reef
barely lifted above the wash of a tranquil sea.  At that time this was
the most southerly point of United States territory.  In the deep water
just beyond Sand Key lay a great battle-ship, tugging sullenly at her
pondrous anchors, and looking like some vast sea monster, uncouth and
relentless.

From here it was eighty-five miles in a straight line to Havana, and
within five hours Ridge was thrilled by the sight of a cloud-like speck
that he knew marked the highlands of Cuba.  Gradually the coast was
revealed, then came the low-trailing smoke of ships on blockade as they
patrolled wearily before the entrance to Havana Harbor, and after
awhile the outlined cathedral spires of the city itself.  There lay the
wreck of the _Maine_, and there waited the Spanish army that
Captain-General Blanco had sworn should yield its last drop of blood in
resisting an invasion by the hated Yankees.  There also the guns of
time-blackened Morro sullenly faced the floating fortresses that only
awaited a signal to engage them in deadly conflict.

Running close to Commodore Watson's flag-ship, the _San Francisco_, the
_Speedy_ broke the tedious monotony of blockade by delivering an
eagerly welcomed mail, with its wealth of news from the outside world.
Then the saucy craft was off again, headed to the eastward.  Matanzas
and Cardenas, both under blockade, were passed during the night, and
while off the latter place Dick Comly told Ridge the story of his
classmate, Ensign Worth Bagley, who lost his life on board the
torpedo-boat _Winslow_, in Cardenas Bay, on May 11th, or less than one
month before, and who was the first American officer killed in the war.

"They only went in to find out who was there," began Comly, "the
_Wilmington_, _Hudson_, and _Winslow_.  The last, being of least
draught, ran ahead, and got within range of some hidden batteries
before she discovered them.  She was turning to go out when they opened
fire.  In a minute the little ship was riddled by shot and shell.  Her
commander was wounded, her steering-gear had gone wrong, her engines
were crippled, and she lay helpless.  The _Hudson_ ran up to tow her
out of range, and poor old Bagley had just sung out for them to heave
him a line, as the situation was getting rather too warm for comfort,
when a bursting shell instantly killed him, together with four of the
crew.  In spite of the hot fire, the _Hudson_ ran a line and brought
out what was left of the _Winslow_ and her company; but you'd better
believe the little craft was a mighty sad-looking wreck.  Hello!
What's that?"

A string of colored signal-lights had flashed out for a moment directly
ahead of the _Speedy_, and then disappeared.  The strangest thing about
them was that they had been shown just above the surface of the water,
instead of from a masthead, as would usually be the case on a war-ship.
The _Speedy_ had been slipping quietly along, showing her regular side
lights, which, as she was of low freeboard, must also have appeared
close to the water from a short distance, and might have been mistaken
for a signal.  Now she quickly displayed the night-signal of the
American blockading fleet, as well as her own private number, but no
answer came to either.  By the time the _Speedy's_ crew were at
quarters it was evident, from muffled sounds borne down the wind, that
the stranger was a steamer in full retreat.

"Give her a blank shot," ordered Captain Boldwood, and the words had
barely left his mouth before the forward six-pounder gun had roared out
its summons to halt; but the stranger paid no heed.

A solid shot, well elevated, had as little effect.  By this time the
despatch-boat was rushing ahead at full speed in the direction the
unknown steamer was supposed to have taken.  Suddenly her search-light,
sweeping the black waters with a broad arc of silver, disclosed a
shadowy bulk moving swiftly at right angles to the course they were
taking, and heading for a beacon blaze that had sprung up on the
starboard or in-shore hand.

"Port your helm!" cried Captain Boldwood.  "Mr. Comly, try to disable
her.  Make every shot tell if possible."

Again and again the six-pounder hurled its messenger of destruction,
but apparently without effect.

"Looks as though I couldn't hit the side of a barn at a hundred feet,"
muttered the Ensign to Ridge, who stood beside him, thrilled by the
novel experience.  Then he sighted his gun for a third shot, sprang
back, and jerked the lanyard.  A flash, a roar, a choking cloud of
smoke, and then a yell from the _Speedy's_ crew.  In the glare of the
search-light the fugitive steamer was seen to take a sudden sheer, that
a minute later was followed by a crash, and then she remained
motionless.

Instantly the _Speedy_ was slowed down and moved cautiously towards the
wreck, with busy lead marking soundings every few seconds.  The beacon
for which the chase had steered no longer blazed; but in a few minutes
the search-light disclosed a wooded shore.

"Have a boat ready, Mr. Comly, and prepare to go on board with half a
dozen men."

"Ay, ay, sir."

"May I go with you?" asked Ridge, eagerly.

"Certainly, if the Captain says so."

But, to the young trooper's disappointment, Captain Boldwood refused
permission.  "Your business is of too important a nature for you to
assume any needless risks outside of it," he said.

So Ridge could only watch enviously the departure of the boat with its
crew of armed men.  It had not been gone two minutes when a bright
flame shot from the steamer's deck.

"They have set her on fire and abandoned her!" exclaimed the Captain.
"I pray to God, Comly may be cautious.  Quartermaster, show the recall."

The words were hardly spoken when there came a great blinding flash, an
awful roar, and the _Speedy_ listed to her beam ends.  A vast pillar of
flame leaped a hundred feet into the air, a huge foam-crested wave
rolled out to sea, and then all space seemed full of flying fragments.
The wreck had been destroyed by an explosion of her own cargo.

"Lower away the yawl!  Quick, men!  There may be some left to pick up.
Yes, Mr. Norris, you may go now."

They rescued Comly, bleeding from a wound in the head, and three of his
crew, all more or less injured, but the others had gone down with their
boat, crushed beneath a hurtling deck beam.

The _Speedy_ stood off and on until daylight enabled her commander to
locate the scene of catastrophe and examine what was left of the
shattered steamer.  He found that she had been run ashore on one of the
small outlying cays that are numerous off Cardenas Bay, and with other
floating wreckage he picked up a life-preserver on which was painted,
"_Manuel Ros_, Barcelona."

"How strangely and unexpectedly things turn out," he said to Ridge as
he turned from examining this telltale relic.  "Our Government learned
some time ago that the _Manuel Ros_ was taking on board at Cadiz a
cargo of improved mines, submarine torpedoes, and high explosives for
use in Puerto-Rican harbors.  It was positively stated that she would
not attempt to run the Cuban blockade.  Nevertheless, we were all
notified to keep a sharp lookout for her, especially around Santiago
and Cienfuegos.  She was reported to be very fast, and I can well
credit it, for there are few ships in these waters can show their heels
as she did to the _Speedy_.  As it is, I am afraid she would have
gained Cardenas Harbor in safety if it had not been for Mr. Comly's
last lucky shot, which must have crippled her steering-gear.  And to
think that a ship which would have been considered a handsome prize by
any cruiser should be destroyed by the little _Speedy_.  I wonder,
though, where the _Wilmington_ that generally patrols this vicinity
could have been?"

This mystery was explained a little later when the cruiser in question
hove in sight, having been lured from her station by a small Spanish
gunboat the evening before.

After making his report of what happened, the commander of the _Speedy_
again headed his craft to the eastward, and ran all that day, together
with most of the following night, within sight of the Cuban coast.

It wanted but an hour of daylight, when Ridge, who was sleeping on
deck, was aroused and told that the place of his landing was at hand.
A pot of coffee together with a substantial lunch had been prepared for
him, and Ensign Comly, whose wound had proved to be slight, was waiting
in a boat manned by four sailors.

Señorita was hoisted in a sling and dropped overboard to swim ashore in
tow of the boat, and at the very last the _Speedy's_ commander
whispered the countersign of the Junta that was to open a way through
the Cuban lines.

Then the boat was noiselessly shoved off, and slipped away through the
chill darkness towards the denser shadow of the land that waited with
manifold perils to test the courage of our young trooper.




CHAPTER XI

A LIVELY EXPERIENCE OF CUBAN HOSPITALITY

"Good-bye, old man!  Good luck, and hope we shall meet again soon."

With these words, accompanied by a warm hand-clasp, Ensign Dick Comly
stepped into his boat, and it was shoved off from the bit of Cuban
beach on which Ridge Norris had just been landed.  For a couple of
minutes the young trooper stood motionless, listening with strained
ears to the lessening sound of muffled oars.  It was the last link
connecting him with home, country, and safety.  For a moment he was
possessed of such a panic that he was on the point of shouting for
Comly to come back and take him away.  It did not seem as though he
could be left there alone in the dark, and amid all the crowding
terrors of that unknown land.

Just then Señorita, who stood dripping and shivering beside him, rubbed
her wet nose softly against his cheek, as though begging for sympathy,
and in an instant his courage was restored.  It was enough that another
creature more helpless than he was dependent upon him for guidance and
protection.

"It's all right, girl," he whispered, throwing an arm about the mare's
neck.  "We'll stick to each other and pull through somehow."  Then
plucking a handful of dried grass, he gave the animal a brisk rubbing
that warmed them both.  By the time it was finished, birds were
twittering in the dense growth behind them, and the eastern sky was
suffused with the glow of coming day.

Knowing nothing of his surroundings, nor what eyes might in a few
minutes more discover these new features of the beach, Ridge now
removed his slender belongings to a hiding-place behind some bushes,
where he also fastened Señorita.  Then he set forth to explore the
shore with the hope of finding a path into the interior; for to force a
way through the tangled chaparral that everywhere approached close to
the water's edge seemed hopeless.

He had not gone a dozen paces when Señorita uttered a shrill neigh of
distress at being thus deserted, and began a noisy struggle to break
loose.  With a muttered exclamation of dismay Ridge ran back.  It was
evident that the mare would not consent to be left.

"Very well," said the young man.  "If you can't be reasonable and
remain quietly behind for a few minutes, we must make our exploration
in company.  Perhaps it is better so, after all, for when I do discover
a trail we shall be ready to take instant advantage of it, and get the
more quickly away from this unpleasantly conspicuous place."

While thus talking in a low tone to the mare, Ridge was also equipping
her for the road.  He had just finished tightening the saddle-girth and
was about to mount, when Señorita uttered a snort indicative of some
strange presence.  Turning quickly, her master was confronted by a
sight that caused his heart to sink like lead.  Only a few paces away
stood a young man of dark but handsome features, clad in a well-worn
suit of linen and a broad-brimmed palmetto hat.  A military belt filled
with cartridges encircled his waist, and from it hung an empty scabbard
of untanned cowhide, designed to carry a machete.  With that weapon
held in one hand and a cocked pistol levelled full at Ridge in the
other, he presented the appearance of a first-class brigand.

The young trooper made a movement towards his own revolver, but it was
instantly checked by the stranger, who said, sternly, in Spanish:

"Hold there!  If you but touch a weapon I shall shoot you dead!  You
are my prisoner, and will obey my commands.  That I am prepared to
enforce them I will show you."

With this he sounded a low whistle that was answered by a rustle in the
bushes, from which half a dozen armed ragamuffins of all shades of
swarthiness, from jet black to light chocolate, appeared as though by
magic.  All were provided with machetes, some carried rifles, and each
looked as though it would afford him the greatest pleasure to cut into
small pieces the stranger who had invaded their territory.

"You see," said their leader, with a smile, "that you are hopelessly
surrounded, and that with a nod I can have you killed."

"Yes, I see," replied Ridge, "and I should be pleased to know into
whose hands I have fallen.  Are you Cubano or a Spaniard?"

"And I will ask if you are American or Spaniard?"

"But my question came first," insisted Ridge.

"While I am in a position to have mine answered," replied the other,
again smiling.  "But I will not press it at this moment.  We will first
seek a place better suited to conversation, since here we are liable to
be interrupted.  The American gunboats have an unpleasant habit of
dropping shells among any party whom they may discover on the beach.
Then, too, many Cubanos have been seen about here lately, and they
might molest us, while it is also nearly time for the Spanish _lancha_
that patrols this coast at sunrise and sunset.  So you see--  Disarm
him!"

This last was an order to two men who had moved noiselessly up behind
Ridge while his attention was diverted by their leader.  Now they
seized our young trooper, took his weapons, and marched him away,
though allowing him to retain his hold on Señorita's bridle.  For a few
paces they crashed through the underbrush, hacking a rude path for the
mare with their machetes as they went.  Then they struck a dim trail
that ended at a grass-grown and little-used road.  Crossing this, they
entered the grounds of what had evidently been a fine plantation,
though a young forest growth was now rapidly spreading over its once
well-cultivated fields.  A weedy approach between rows of noble trees
led to the blackened ruins of a large house and outlying buildings.
The stone walls were already over-run with a tangle of vines from which
flamed blood-red blossoms.  Several horses cropped the rank grass about
these ruins, and into one of them, which had been given a temporary
thatch of palm leaves, the prisoner was led.

"Here we had begun to break our fast when your mare notified us of your
proximity," said the leader, who had already motioned to his men to
loose their hold on the young American.  "Now if you will honor us with
your company, we will resume that interrupted pleasure.  Manuel, we
wait to be served."

Upon this a grinning negro brought in a basketful of yams that had
evidently been roasted among the ashes of an open fire, and set it on a
rude table.  Beside it he placed a calabash containing a drink mixed of
water, lime-juice, and brown sugar.  "Let us eat," said the host,
reaching for one of the ash-encoated yams.  "But hold," he added, as
though with a sudden thought.  "Excuse me for a moment."  Thus saying,
he stepped outside, only to return with Ridge's saddle-bags, which he
coolly opened.  "Coffee, as I live!" he cried, "and hard biscuit, the
first bread I have seen in many a month!  Señor, we are under
obligations to you for these welcome additions to our _menu_.  Manuel,
hast thou forgotten how to make coffee, strong, and black as thine own
ebony face?  Waste thou not one precious grain, or, by holy St. Jago, I
will blow out thy meagre brains."

Provoked as Ridge was at seeing his entire stock of provisions thus
appropriated to be expended on a single meal, he was not in a position
to remonstrate.  So, a little later, when a revised edition of
breakfast was pronounced ready, he sat down with the host whom he did
not yet know whether to consider as friend or foe, and ate heartily of
the food thus provided.

The furnishing of that rude table was unique, for, mingled with shells
from the beach and those of cocoanuts, both of which were used in place
of cups, gourds, plantain-leaves, and wooden trays, appeared several
dishes of cut glass and dainty china, generally cracked or chipped, and
looking wofully out of place.

Seeing that Ridge noticed these, the host said, carelessly:

"Ah yes, señor, we have seen better days!"  Then, lighting a cigarette,
he continued, more sternly, "Now, sir, can you give any reason why I
should not have you led out and shot as a spy?"

"You would not dare do such a thing!" replied Ridge, indignantly.

"Oh! wouldn't I?  My friend, you do not realize into whose hands you
have fallen.  Now, merely to prove that I have both the inclination and
power to carry out my threat, I will have you shot.  Lope!  Garzo!"

Two of the ragged bandits immediately appeared.

"Bind me the arms of this man and blindfold him."

The order was deftly obeyed.

"Now take him from my sight and shoot him."

Seizing Ridge by the shoulders, the men began to drag him away.

Until this moment he had not known whether to acknowledge himself an
American or claim to be a Spaniard, nor had he believed that the
extremely courteous leader of bandits with whom he had just
breakfasted, and who might be either a Cuban patriot or a Spanish
guerilla, would do him serious injury.  Now, moved by an agony of
terror, he shouted out the word whispered to him a few hours before by
the commander of the _Speedy_, the secret countersign of the Cuban
Junta.

Its effect was magical.  The men who were dragging him to a summary
execution loosed their hold and stared at him in amazement, while the
young leader sprang to where Ridge stood, tore the bandages from his
eyes, severed his bonds, and embraced him.

"Why, my brother, did you not disclose your identity long ago?" he said.

"Because," replied Ridge, in a voice that still trembled from his
recent fright, "I knew not to which side you belonged."

"What!  Did you for a moment think that I might be a vile Spaniard?  I,
Enrico del Concha, a Cuban of the Cubans?  Alas! that such a suspicion
should fall upon one of my name."

"And what," inquired Ridge, "did you take me for?"

"A Spanish spy, of course.  Do you not speak the language without even
a Cuban accent?  Did you not decline to tell me how or what you were?
Above all, did you not carry on your person despatches addressed to
certain Spanish generals?"

Ridge clapped a hand to his breast pocket.

"Yes, señor, they are gone," laughed the other.

"My rogues are clever thieves, and took them from you when we first
met, together with your money, for which they were searching.
Hereafter you must provide for your private papers a place of greater
safety.  Now let us have one more cup of that delicious coffee while
you confide to me who you are and why you are here."




CHAPTER XII

DENOUNCED BY A FRIEND

Under the circumstances, Ridge felt that a frank avowal of his
personality and present plans would be wiser than any attempt at
deception, and this he proceeded to make.  To all that he had to tell
the bandit leader paid closest attention, and listened without a word
of interruption until the narrative was finished.  Then he said:

"It is indeed great news that the Americans are about to invade Cuba.
Until now they have promised much and done worse than nothing, since,
by their blockade of Cuban ports, they have only starved to death
thousands of miserable reconcentrados.  Now if they will proceed with
judgment and are not swept off by fevers, something may be
accomplished.  At the same time, from the ignorance displayed in
sending on so important a mission as yours one so ill equipped for it,
I cannot hope for much from them."

Ridge flushed hotly.  "What do you mean?" he asked.

"I mean," replied the other, coolly rolling a cigarette as he spoke,
"that you have shown yourself to be about as fit for the duty you have
undertaken as a babe in arms.  Did you not, upon landing, waste a whole
hour of precious darkness during which you might have gained a safe
distance from the always-guarded coast?  Did you not allow yourself to
be betrayed by your horse, and captured without resistance?  Did you
not lose your despatches at the outset, and almost your life as well?
Are you not at this moment densely ignorant of the route you are to
travel, and of how to meet the enemies you will encounter on every hand?

"Yes, my friend, brave and resolute as you may be, you are also but a
babe in your undertaking.  Your only forethought lay in securing the
countersign of the Junta, which has for the moment saved your life,
since I should certainly have caused you to be shot but for it.  Also,
if I had not discovered you, the Spanish hawks who patrol the coast
would have had you in their clutches a few minutes later.  Nor do you
at this moment know how to find your way to Holguin, much less to
Santiago."

"But," argued Ridge, whose self-conceit and confidence in his own
ability to carry out the mission he had so bravely undertaken were
rapidly oozing away, "I have a good map of the country, a good horse,
plenty of money with which to hire guides, am well armed, and could
make a good fight if necessary.  I speak Spanish perfectly, am dark of
complexion, possess the countersign of the Junta for Cubans, and
letters from the chief of the Spanish secret service for Spaniards.
Why, then, may I not succeed as well as another?"

"You _had_ those things; but, with the exception of your ability to
speak Spanish, your darkness of skin, and the countersign, all of them
have been taken from you."

"But you will restore them?"

"And if I should, would they serve you?  Do you imagine that any true
Cuban would disclose to an utter stranger the military secrets of his
country for money?  If you do, you are sadly mistaken.  Could you fight
an enemy who would lie in ambush and shoot you in the back, reserving
the examination of your despatches until you were dead?  Even should
you succeed in presenting those same despatches to a Spanish general,
do you not know that he would hold you prisoner, or at least delay your
departure until he had transmitted them to Havana for verification?
Yet you hope to gain a complete knowledge of the military situation in
this great province, and rejoin your friends more than a hundred miles
away within a week.  Amigo, you are very ignorant."

"Possibly I am," admitted Ridge, "but I have learned much from you
within a short time; and if you will let me go, I will still undertake
to accomplish my task within the time allotted to me."

"I admire your spirit," replied del Concha, "and will gladly release
you, with all your property restored; but before so doing I wish to
make some suggestions.  In the first place, your people should have
chosen an intelligent Cuban for this work--a man like myself, for
instance."

Ridge was on the point of saying that his superior officers had feared
to trust a Cuban, but prudently refrained from so doing.

"As they did not have the sense for that," continued the speaker, "it
is most fortunate that you have met me, for I can give you, in a few
words, the position and strength of every Spanish force in the
province, as well as the location and condition of the Cuban armies, to
which I will also gladly forward news of the anticipated American
landing.  Thus you will be free to make your way, directed by guides
whom I will furnish, straight to Santiago without encountering any
dangers other than those incident to travel through a rough country."

"While thanking you for your kind offer," replied Ridge, "I must still
decline it.  My orders are to communicate directly with the Spanish
commanders at Holguin and Jiguani, and I shall certainly attempt to
carry them out, since the first lesson taught every American soldier is
that of absolute and unquestioning obedience to orders."

"My dear Lieutenant!" exclaimed del Concha--for this was the rank that
Ridge had seen fit to assume--"I begin to perceive why you were chosen
for this hopeless task, and though I utterly disapprove your proposed
course of action, I cannot but admire your resolution.  Also I cannot
find it in my heart to leave you to your own helpless devices.
Therefore I shall accompany you to the vicinity of Holguin.  Then I
shall at least be on hand to learn your fate as soon as it is decided."

Willing as he would have been to set forth alone, Ridge was glad to
have the company of one so familiar with the country as del Concha
appeared, and one also whom he believed he might trust.  His confidence
in the acquaintance thus strangely made was strengthened a little later
as they rode together, and the latter, in answer to his questions,
disclosed a portion of his own history.

"I came to this place last evening," he said, "in the hope of getting a
few shots at the Spanish lancha, which, as I told you, patrols the
coast twice daily; for Spaniards have become so scarce of late, and
confine themselves so closely to the larger towns, that it is sometimes
difficult to maintain my record of one for each day."

"What do you mean?" asked Ridge.

"I mean that during the past year I have personally killed, or caused
to be killed, a Spanish soldier for each day that has passed."

The young American regarded his companion with horror.

"Moreover," continued the other, coolly, "I have sworn to maintain that
average so long as I live and the present war continues.  When I found
you this morning I thought my duty for the day was accomplished, but
now it is with pleasure that I shall look elsewhere for my dead
Spaniard of this date."

"Are all Cubans animated by your spirit?" asked Ridge, whose soul
revolted at this calm discussion of what seemed to him cold-blooded
murder.

"All who have suffered what I have are, or should be, filled with my
longing for vengeance," answered del Concha.  "Listen.  The ruined
plantation we have just left was my home.  There I was born.  There in
the care of a loving father and a devoted mother, in company with a
brother who was older than I, and a younger sister, I grew up.  In
spite of cruel taxation, we were wealthy; in spite of unrighteous laws,
we were happy.  Finally Spain's oppression of Cuba became unbearable,
and the war to throw it off was begun.  My father refused to take part
in the rebellion, but my brother joined the insurgents and was killed
in battle.  I took his place; and, because his sons aided the
insurrection, my noble father, still loyal to Spain, was seized by the
Spaniards and thrown into prison.  Two days later, without trial or
previous warning, he was shot to death in the prison-yard.

"For giving bread to starving women and children whose husbands and
fathers fought in the Cuban army, my mother and sister were driven from
their home to the nearest city, where the former, always delicate,
died, literally of starvation, and from which my sister disappeared, so
that I do not know her fate.  At that time, also, our house was
stripped by the soldiers of everything that could be carried away, and
then burned.  It is for this record of crime that I determined to spare
no Spaniard who should come within my reach."

"I am afraid," said Ridge, slowly, with a clear vision of his own dear
home and its loved inmates in his mind, "that in your place I should
act as you have acted."

Although the city of Holguin lies only about twenty miles from the
place where Ridge landed on the coast, the way to it was so obstructed,
first by swamps and dense forests, and later by wooded hills and
swollen streams, that evening shadows were closing in when Ridge and
his ragged escort came within sight of its low roofs.  On the still air
were borne to their ears at the same moment the clear notes of Spanish
bugles sounding the "Retreat."

Ridge had speculated much that day concerning his reception by the
Spaniards, and as to how he should enter their lines.  Now del Concha
proposed a plan that seemed feasible.

"Ride in at full speed," he said, "while I with my men will follow as
though in hot pursuit close up to the lines.  Of course we will
exchange shots, though both must carefully fire too high to do any
damage.  Is it well?  Then adios, my friend, until we meet again."

A few minutes later the newly posted Spanish guard was startled by the
sound of shots, and then by the sight of a fugitive horseman speeding
towards them, followed closely by a party of mounted insurgents who
were firing at him.  Drums were beat and trumpets sounded.  A small
body of troops hastily advanced from the city, opening their ranks to
receive the panting horse and its apparently exhausted rider, but
closing them to give an ineffective volley against his pursuers, who
were now flying in consternation.

Half an hour afterwards, Ridge, addressed as Señor Remelios, stood in
the presence of General Pando, the Spanish commander of the eastern
diocese of the island, and second only to the Captain-General, who was
carefully reading a despatch just handed him by the young trooper.

"You say, señor, that you have just come from Gibara, where you were
secretly landed last night?"

"Yes, General."

"Also from this note, signed by Lieutenant Carranza, I learn that the
Americans are about to land in force at Cienfuegos."

"Such are Señor Carranza's latest advices."

"Um!  They conflict, however, with news just brought from the south
that a landing has already been effected at Guantanamo."

Here the old soldier peered keenly at our hero, who experienced a
thrill of uneasiness.

At this moment there came a challenge from the sentry stationed at the
door.  It was satisfactorily answered, and another individual hurriedly
entered the room.

"Your Excellency," said this person, making a profound salute, "pardon
my intrusion; but I am come to denounce the man now standing before you
as a Yankee spy.  His despatch is a forgery and utterly false, since
the American army is not to land at Cienfuegos, but at Santiago."

Just here Ridge obtained his first view of the speaker's face, and was
overwhelmed with dismay to recognize in it the features of the man who
had ridden with him all that day under the guise of a Cuban patriot.
It was that of Enrico del Concha.




CHAPTER XIII

TO BE SHOT AT SUNRISE

Never in his life had our hero experienced a feeling of such utter
helplessness as he did upon recognizing del Concha.  The treachery
unfolded by the man's words was beyond his comprehension, and he knew
not how to combat it.  For a moment he stared speechless at the
traitor, then he turned to the General, who was gazing at him with
stern inquiry.

"Your Excellency," said Ridge, "the man who thus seeks to gain your
favor, and, as I suppose, a reward, by denouncing me, is doubly a
traitor.  He kills Spaniards at every opportunity, and now seeks my
life at your hands because he knows that I am one.  It is true that I
was captured by him and his band of Cuban ruffians.  To save my life, I
told him the story that he now brings to you.  After thus allaying his
suspicions, I seized a favorable opportunity to escape.  By the
superior swiftness of my horse I finally reached this place in safety,
though pursued by him to your very lines and hotly fired upon, as can
be proved by many witnesses.  Now, therefore, I, José Remelios, bearer
of despatches from the Señor Carranza, denounce this man as a doubly
dyed traitor, and demand that he be arrested on a charge of being a
Cuban spy."

"Have you ever seen him kill a Spaniard?" asked General Pando.

Ridge was obliged to admit that he had not.

"Then how do you know that he has done so?"

"From his own boastful confession.  He claims to have taken the life of
a Spanish soldier for every day of the last year."

The General smiled.  "That is certainly a very boastful claim," he
said, "but one not to be believed for a moment.  Think you, sir, that
such a number of Spaniards could be killed without my knowledge? or
that, in any case, one man could thus overcome the brave, experienced,
and well-armed soldiers of Spain?  Your credulity, señor, is
refreshing.  Also I have no hesitation in telling you that ever since I
took command of the eastern diocese, this man, recommended to me by my
predecessor in office, has been the most faithful and valuable of my
secret agents among the Cubans.  Time and again he has furnished early
information of important events which has subsequently proved correct
in every detail.  With such a record in his favor, am I now to doubt
him upon the mere word of a stranger?  No, señor, the honor of a
Spaniard forbids.  I am obliged, therefore--"

Just here came an interruption of voices at the door.  Hearing them,
del Concha, who had remained silent during the foregoing conversation
and apparently careless of what was said concerning him, uttered a few
hurried words to the General in a low tone, and disappeared behind a
screen that stood close at hand.  Directly afterwards a lieutenant and
two soldiers entered with a prisoner, whom Ridge recognized as one of
the ragged Cubans who had escorted him to Holguin.

"General," said the officer, saluting, "I bring a Cuban deserter who
claims to have information of pressing importance that he will impart
to no one but yourself, so I have ventured to intrude; but if it is
your pleasure, I will remove him and seek to extort his secret."

"Oh no," replied the commander; "it is not worth the trouble.  Let him
speak, and quickly, for I am pressed with business."

"I come, Excellenza," began the deserter, in a trembling voice, "with
the hope of clemency and a reward, to notify your Excellency that this
señor"--here he pointed to Ridge--"is not what he pretends.  I was of a
band who captured him on the coast, and I overheard his confession to
our leader.  From his own mouth, therefore, I learned that he is a spy,
and--"

"An American bearing false despatches," interrupted the General,
irritably.  "You see I already know all that you would say.  Remove
your prisoner, soldados."  Then, in a lower tone to the officer, he
added: "Take him away and dispose of him.  Such _canaille_ are as
troublesome as fleas.  Immediately upon completing the job you may
return, as I have other business for you."

With a salute, the officer hurried after his men.  At the same time del
Concha emerged from his place of concealment, and the General, turning
to Ridge, said:

"You have doubtless noted, señor, how quickly the information
concerning yourself brought by this gentleman is confirmed.  Therefore
you will not be surprised to have me order you into confinement until
your case can be reported to Havana"--at this moment came the startling
sound of a volley of musketry, evidently fired close at hand--"and a
decision concerning it received from the Captain-General," concluded
the speaker, paying no heed to the firing.

As Ridge was about to utter a protest, the officer who had left the
room a minute before, re-entered it, saluted with stiff precision, and
stood awaiting orders.

"Lieutenant Navarro," said the General, "you will remove this
gentleman, who is charged with being an American spy, and bid the
officer in charge of the guard-house hold him in closest custody until
he receives further instructions.  Adios, Señor Remelios.  May your
night's rest be peaceful."

Perceiving that resistance or protest would be useless, Ridge passively
allowed himself to be led away.  A file of soldiers stood outside, and,
surrounded by these, he was marched to the guardhouse, where, after
being searched and relieved of everything contained by his pockets, he
was led into a bare, cell-like room.

A wooden stool and a heap of filthy straw in one corner constituted its
sole furnishing.  Through a grating in the door came the flickering
light of a lamp burning in the corridor, while outer air was admitted
by a small iron-barred opening in one of the side walls some six feet
above the floor.  The place reeked with dampness, and, in spite of
these openings, its air was foul and stifling.  A few minutes after
Ridge entered it, and as he sat in dumb despair, vainly striving to
realize his unhappy situation, a soldier brought him a bowl of bean
porridge and a jug of water.  Without a word, he set these down and
departed.

A little later other soldiers came and gazed curiously at him through
the grated door, always speaking of him as "el Yanko," and making merry
at his expense.  Thus several hours passed, and he still sat
motionless, trying to think; but his brain was in a whirl, and he
seemed as powerless to concentrate his thoughts as he was friendless.
He realized dimly that at regular intervals a guard, pacing the outer
corridor, paused before the door of his cell to peer in at him, and so
make sure of his presence; but he paid slight attention to this
official scrutiny.

Suddenly his ear caught a sound strange to that place--a girlish voice
laughing merrily and evidently exchanging brisk repartee with the
soldiers in the guard-room.  It was a pleasanter sound than any he had
heard, and he listened to it eagerly.  After a little the voice seemed
to draw nearer, and he could distinguish the words, "el Yanko."  He,
then, was the subject of that gay conversation.  A moment later, from
the same source, came an expression that numbed him with the awfulness
of its possible meaning.  "To be shot at sunrise?  Poor fellow!"  Could
he be the "poor fellow" meant?  Of course not; but then he might be.
Such a summary disposition of prisoners was not unknown to Spanish
jailers.

While his mind was busy with this startling question the laughing
voice, now lowered almost to a whisper, approached his door, and he
became conscious of a scrutiny through the grating.  Also a discussion
was going on outside, and he heard:

"No, no, not a smile, not a word, unless you open the door so that I
may see el Yanko.  I have never seen one in all my life--never."

A short pause, then a key turned, and the door was gently opened.  Two
figures entered.  A soldier and a slender girl, who clung fearfully to
his arm.  They stood and looked at Ridge as he sat on his wooden stool,
and he stared back.  For a moment the three gazed at one another in
silence.

Then the girl exclaimed, pettishly:

"If that is all your famous Yanko amounts to, I have already seen
enough, since he looks exactly like other men, only more ugly than
some.  Come, let us go."

With this she playfully turned her companion about and pushed him from
the cell.  As she did so she made a quick backward movement with her
right hand, and something fell on the straw pallet as though flung
there.  A second later the door was relocked, and, with merry laughter
again echoing through the dim corridor, they were gone.

Curiously Ridge fumbled in the musty bedding until he found a small
packet enveloped in brown paper.  He opened it eagerly.  Inside were
two tiny steel saws, made from a watch spring, and a little tube of
oil.  There was also a bit of white paper on which was writing.  By
holding this close to the lamp-lighted grating.  Ridge read:

"You have only till daylight.  Saw out a bar and squeeze through.
Friends will await you outside.  Destroy this."  There was no signature.

"What friends can I have in this place?" thought the young trooper, as
he nervously chewed the bit of paper to a pulp.  At the same time he
was tremulous with a new hope.  "Perhaps I can do it," he said, "and
anything will be better than sitting in idleness, with a prospect of
being shot at sunrise."

Standing on his wooden stool he could easily reach the lower end of the
iron bars closing the cell window, and he at once began work on them.
At first he seemed to produce about as much effect as would the gnawing
of a mouse, but after a while his tiny saw was buried in the tough
iron.  Then footsteps approached, and Ridge had barely time to fling
himself on the vile-smelling pallet before a sentry was peering in at
the grating.  A ray of light fell where he lay, but fortunately failed
to reach the side on which the barred aperture was located.  So the
prisoner made a long bunch of the straw, covered it with his coat, and
placed his water-jug at one end, thus causing the whole to bear a rude
resemblance to a human figure.

After that he worked steadily, only pausing at the sound of footsteps,
but not leaving the scene of his operations.  He found that he must cut
two bars instead of only one, and a saw snapped in twain when the first
was but half severed.  After that he handled the other with intense
caution, and his heart throbbed painfully with anxiety as the work
neared completion.

For hours he toiled, and he knew that daylight could not be far off
when the second bar was finally cut.  To bend it aside took all his
strength, and so occupied was he in doing this that for the first time
that night he heeded not a sound of footsteps in the corridor.

"What goes on here?" questioned a harsh voice, and Ridge's heart leaped
into his mouth.  With desperate energy he wrenched the bars to one
side, hearing as he did so a fumbling at the lock of his door.
Utilizing his strength to the utmost, he pulled himself up, forced his
body through the narrow opening, and pitched headlong to the ground
outside.  At the same time came fierce shouts, a pistol-shot, and a
great clamor from the place he had left,

But strong hands were helping him to his feet, and a voice was saying
in his ears: "You have done well, amigo.  Now we must fly for our
lives."

Of course it could not be; but to Ridge's senses, confused by the shock
of his fall, it seemed as though the voice was that of the false friend
who had betrayed him.




CHAPTER XIV

REFUGEES IN THE MOUNTAINS

Without a knowledge of direction or purpose, Ridge suffered himself to
be guided by his unknown friend through several narrow streets.  They
ran at top speed and in silence, but behind them came a clamor of
soldiers from the guard-house.  By their shouts that a prisoner was
escaping, these aroused that portion of the town, and frightened
occupants of squalid houses caught shadowy glimpses of the fugitives as
they sped past.  To the pursuers these same spectators pointed eagerly
the course taken by those who fled, so that the scent of the chase was
kept hot.

A sudden turn disclosed three horses, one bearing a rider, and all
standing motionless.  A glad whinny of recognition came from one as
Ridge Norris gained its side, and in another moment his own Señorita
was speeding him away from the scene of his recent danger.

As the three swept through the outer picket-line unharmed by its thick
flying bullets, they were startled by a clatter of hoofs at right
angles to their course, and coming swiftly towards them.  A cavalry
patrol warned by the uproar, and catching sight of the fugitives in the
growing dawn, was striving to intercept them.  They also fired as they
rode, and two of those who fled bent low over their horses' necks that
they might offer as small a mark as possible.  Not so the young
American, who now found himself under fire for the first time in his
life.  He had found his rifle still attached to the saddle; and now,
with every drop of blood in his body at fighting heat, he sat erect,
half turned, and fired back until every shot in his magazine was
exhausted.  As a result, several of the pursuers dropped from the
chase; but it was hotly maintained by the others, who also kept up a
desultory shooting.

They had gained a good mile from town when suddenly one of Ridge's
companions uttered a sharp cry, in a voice distinctly feminine, and
reeled in her saddle.  The other, whom Ridge now knew to be del Concha,
leaped from his horse and caught her in his arms as she fell.

"We must make a stand and fight!" he cried, as Ridge reined Señorita to
a sudden halt beside him.  "Drive the beasts ahead and conceal yourself
on the other side.  I will remain here."

They were already among the foothills of the Almiqui Mountains, and had
just passed a low crest which, for the moment, hid them from their
pursuers.  The ambush was so quickly arranged that, two minutes later
when these appeared, they saw nothing of it and heard only a rush of
horses' hoofs in the ravine below.

With a yell the Spanish cavalrymen put spurs to their steeds and dashed
down the declivity.  The first two were allowed to pass.  Then came a
double flash of flame from the bushes and one of the riders fell, while
another uttered the cry of a wounded man.  Two more were killed before
the panic-stricken horsemen were borne beyond range.  Those who
remained unhurt left the road and fled for their lives down the bed of
a little stream that crossed it at the foot of the hill.  The wounded
man was despatched by del Concha where he lay, before Ridge could
interpose a word in his behalf.

"And why not?" asked the Cuban, as he coolly wiped his machete on the
grass.  "Can the blood-debt that I owe them ever be paid?  Are they not
adding to it every day?  Even now, does not she who is dearest of all
the world to me lie wounded at their hands?"

"But, I thought you were in their service, and that they trusted you."

"So they do trust me, and to their sorrow," replied del Concha, with a
bitter laugh.  "But there is no time for explanations.  A precious life
hangs in the balance, and only instant action may save it.  If you can
recover the horses, or even one of them, all may go well.  If not,
there is little room for hope."

Without reply Ridge whistled a shrill note that echoed sharply among
the hills.  The distant neigh of a horse came in answer, and he started
on a run down the road.  At the foot of the slope he encountered
Señorita coming back to meet him; and springing to her back he went in
pursuit of her companions whom he soon discovered grazing by the
wayside.  At sight of him they fled at full speed; but they might as
well have raced with the wind as with the fleet-footed mare; and,
within ten minutes from the time of leaving del Concha, Ridge returned,
leading the horse the Cuban had ridden.  The other was left, tied to a
tree where he had captured it.

Del Concha was holding in his arms their wounded comrade, apparently a
slender youth, whose face was now disclosed to Ridge for the first time
by the light of the newly risen sun.  Although it was of deathly
pallor, and the eyes were closed, he instantly recognized it as
belonging to the girl of the laughing voice who had so cleverly
contrived to aid him the evening before.

"Yes," said del Concha, noting the look of recognition, "it was she who
carried you the saws and message.  She is the bravest girl in all Cuba,
and the sweetest.  It was for my sake and that of her country that she
aided you; for she is a devoted patriot, and my _fiancée_.  We were to
be married as soon as an American army landed.  She would have it so.
Now if she dies, I cannot bear it."

While he spoke, the grief-stricken man, in whom there was slight
resemblance to the debonair bandit of the day before, laid his burden
gently down, and mounted the horse that Ridge had recovered.

"Now give her to me," he said; and, tenderly lifting the light form,
Ridge placed it once more in his arms.  The girl had been shot in the
back, and the cruel Mauser bullet, long but slender as a lead-pencil,
had passed through her body.

"My only hope is to get her to the nearest camp of refugees, and that
is still five miles away," said del Concha.

After that they rode in silence, the sorrowing lover, with his precious
burden leading the way, and the young American oppressed by the sadness
of the incident for which he felt wholly, though unwittingly to blame,
following with the spare horse.  Mingled with our hero's self-reproach
was also a decided curiosity as to how del Concha would explain the
double part he had played the evening before.

As they advanced into the heart of the mountains, ever climbing, their
road grew rougher and narrower, until finally it was a mere trail.
Although they passed occasional ruins of huts, they did not see one
that was inhabited or habitable.  Neither did they encounter a human
being until their destination was reached, though for the last mile of
their progress they were constantly watched by wild-looking figures
that peered at them from behind rocks or bushes.  Often, after a single
glance at the horsemen, these ragged scouts would dart away, scurrying
through the brush with the noiseless speed of rabbits, and one able to
see them would have observed that all took the same direction.  It was
towards a camp of Cuban refugees, snugly hidden in one of the most
inaccessible recesses of the mountains, and to it they bore the news of
approaching visitors.

Therefore the camp was in a state of expectancy even before the
new-comers were challenged by its outpost, and as del Concha had long
since been recognized, they received a cordial greeting.  The wounded
girl was at once taken to a commodious hut, where she could be cared
for by nurses of her own sex, while a substantial breakfast, roughly
cooked and of the simplest character, was made ready for the two men.
It was served on the ground just outside the hut of the Cuban General
commanding the camp and its few hundreds of ragged soldiers.  This
officer expressed great joy upon learning from Ridge that an American
army was about to land in Cuba, and promised to harass any expedition
sent against it from Holguin.

After breakfast, while del Concha was gone to inquire concerning his
sweetheart, the General took Ridge to his private observatory, a superb
palm, occupying an eminence, and towering above the surrounding forest.
From its leafy crown one could look directly down on Holguin and, with
a good glass, clearly discern the movements of its garrison.

While thus alone with the General our young trooper asked questions
about del Concha.

"He is one of the bravest and most patriotic of Cubans," declared the
other, warmly.  "No one has done more than he to advance our cause."

"Has he ever been suspected of being a Spanish spy?" asked Ridge.

"Certainly not, señor.  Such a question is almost an insult."

"Yet the lieutenant has good cause for his inquiry," said del Concha
himself, who joined them at that moment.  "Moreover, he is entitled to
an explanation from me, which I will hasten to give before he shall
demand it."

"It will afford me great pleasure to hear it," said Ridge, "for some of
your recent actions have been, to say the least, very puzzling."

"As, for instance, when I denounced you to General Pando.  Certainly
you must have thought badly of me at that time.  I did it, however, to
save both you and myself, since shortly after you left us I learned
that one of my troop had deserted for the purpose of betraying you to
the Spanish General, who, he hoped and believed, would give him a
liberal reward for so doing.  As Pando supposes me to be one of his
agents--in which capacity, by-the-way, I have been able to render
valuable service to Cuba--"

"Indeed, yes," muttered the General.

"--I saw at once," continued del Concha, "that in order to save us both
I must forestall the deserter and do the denouncing myself.  You
witnessed the result in the reception accorded the man when he appeared
with his stale news, and are aware of his fate."

"No, I am not," said Ridge.

"Did you not hear the volley by which he was shot within one minute
after being led from Pando's presence?"

"Was that it?" asked the young American, in an awe-stricken tone.

"Certainly; and served him exactly right, too.  Also saved me the job
of punishing him.  After that, and after you had been removed, Pando
confided to me that, as yours was a perfectly clear case, he should not
bother Blanco with it, but should promptly dispose of it by having you
shot at sunrise.  He also honored me with a mission to Santiago, on
which he desired that I should set forth immediately.  I of course
accepted, only with a mental resolve to take you along, and this, with
Eva's help, I was in a fair way to accomplish when the dear girl
received her terrible wound."

"Bless her!" exclaimed Ridge, fervently, now fully realizing for the
first time all that had been done for him.  "I hope, with all my heart,
that her wound is not serious."

"I fear it is, though for the present she seems quite comfortable."

"And you are going to Santiago?"

"Not one step beyond this point until she is out of danger."

"But I must go," said Ridge, decidedly.

"Certainly; and I have a competent guide ready to start at any moment,
and conduct you on the next stage of your journey."




CHAPTER XV

DIONYSIO CAPTURES A SPANIARD

While Ridge was greatly disappointed at losing the guidance and
companionship of the young Cuban, in whom his confidence was now wholly
restored, he could not, under the circumstances, urge him to go
farther, nor did he dare longer delay his own journey.  With Señorita,
all his belongings, including his undelivered despatches, and the money
stolen when he was captured by del Concha, had been restored to him.
So he now added to his outfit a grass-woven hammock that he purchased
in the refugee camp, and was then ready to set forth.

The new guide awaiting him was a coal-black negro named Dionysio, who
was of such huge stature that the other Cubans seemed pygmies beside
him.  He was armed only with a great machete, ground to exceeding
sharpness, and he disdained to ride a horse, declaring that he could,
on foot, cover a greater distance in less time than any horse on the
island, which Ridge was able to credit after a short experience with
his ebony guide.  Besides, being a big man and a very strong one,
Dionysio was a silent man, as taciturn as an Indian, and never spoke
except upon necessity.

When Ridge was introduced to him he was sitting in the shade of a
corojo-palm, smoking a cigarette and lovingly fingering the razor-like
edge of his machete.

"This is the Señor Americano whom you are to guide to Jiguani, and
afterwards, if he requires it, to Santiago," said del Concha,

Dionysio looked keenly at Ridge, but uttered no word.

"He is ready to start."

The negro stood up, to signify that he was also ready.

"You will not let the Spaniards kill him," Dionysio tapped his machete
significantly.

"Well, my friend, adios," said del Concha, "and may you come safely to
your journey's end!"

Accepting this farewell as a signal to move, the black giant set forth
at a swinging pace, and, in order not to lose sight of him, Ridge was
obliged instantly to follow.  In another minute, therefore, they had
crossed the clearing, plunged again into the forest, and the refugee
camp was as lost to their view as though it had not existed.

The silent guide bore on his shoulders a burden of yams rolled in a
hammock, but it in no way interfered with the freedom of his movements.
For miles he maintained, up hill and down, the same speed with which he
had set out, and which so taxed Señorita's endurance that Ridge was
finally forced to call a halt.  The heat of the sun was by this time
intense, while the forest steamed from a succession of brief but
drenching showers that had swept over it since they started.

As Dionysio comprehended what was wanted he proceeded, without a word,
to construct a small bower of branches and palm leaves, beneath which
he slung Ridge's hammock.  The young trooper's eyes were so leaden with
sleep that he had no sooner slipped into this than he was lost in a
dreamless slumber.

When he next awoke, greatly refreshed by his long nap, the great heat
of the day was past, and the shadows of coming evening produced a
pleasant coolness.  For a few minutes Ridge lay in a state of lazy
content, gazing with languid interest at his surroundings.  The sky, so
far as he could see it, was cloudless, the crisp leaves of a tall palm
close at hand rustled in a light breeze like the patter of rain, gayly
plumaged paroquets and nonpareils flitted across his line of vision,
and the air was filled with the pleasant odor of burning wood, mingled
with the fragrance of a cigarette that Dionysio smoked while squatted
on his heels before a small fire.  A little beyond, Señorita, tethered
to a tree, cropped at a small patch of coarse grass, and--but Ridge
could not credit his senses until he had rubbed his eyes vigorously to
make sure that they were doing their duty--another horse was sharing
the grass-plot with her.  As he assured himself of this, Ridge sat up,
and was about to demand an explanation of the negro, when his question
was checked by another sight still more amazing.

A human figure staring fixedly at him with glaring eyes was rigidly
bound to the trunk of a near-by tree.  It was that of a young man in
the uniform of a Spanish officer.  His face was covered with blood,
upon which a swarm of flies had settled, and he was so securely
fastened that he could not move hand nor foot.  He was also gagged so
that he could make no sound beyond an inarticulate groan, which he
uttered when he saw that Ridge was awake and looking at him.

With an exclamation of dismay the young American leaped from his
hammock.  At the same moment Dionysio rose to his feet with a broad
grin on his black face, and spoke for the first time since Ridge had
made his acquaintance.

"Him Holguin Spaniard," he said, pointing to the prisoner.  "Me catch
him.  Keep him for Americano to kill.  Now you shoot him."

[Illustration: "'Him Holguin Spaniard.  Now you shoot him,' said the
Cuban."]

Thus saying, the negro handed Ridge a loaded pistol that he had taken
from the Spaniard, and then stepped aside with an air of ferocious
expectancy to note with what skill the latter would fire at the human
target thus provided.

Mechanically Ridge accepted the weapon, and with blazing eyes strode
towards the hapless Spaniard, who uttered a groan of agony, evidently
believing that his last moment had arrived.  As the young trooper
passed the place where Dionysio had squatted, he snatched the negro's
big machete from the ground.

At this the latter chuckled with delight, evidently believing that the
blood-thirsty Americano was about to hew his victim in pieces, an
operation that, to him, would be vastly more entertaining than a mere
shooting.  Then he stared in bewilderment; for, instead of cutting the
prisoner down, Ridge began to sever the lashings by which he was bound.
As the keen-edged machete cut through the last of these, the released
man fell forward in a faint, and the young American, catching him in
his arms, laid him on the sward.  "Bring water!" he ordered, with a
sharp tone of authority, and the negro obeyed.

"You no kill him?" he asked, as he watched Ridge bathe the blood from
the unconscious man's face.

"Not now," was the evasive answer.  "Where did you get him?"

Little by little, one word at a time, he gained from the taciturn negro
an idea of what had taken place while he slept.  It seemed that, while
he had followed rough mountain trails in his roundabout course to and
from the refugee camp, there was a much better road to which they had
closely approached, when he was forced by exhaustion to call a halt.
After he fell asleep, Dionysio, going for water to a spring that he
knew of, had detected a sound of hoof-beats advancing along this road
from the direction of Holguin.  Concealing himself near the spring, he
waited until the horseman, a Spanish officer, rode up to it.  Then he
leaped upon the man, dragged him to the ground, and had him secured
almost before the astonished officer knew what was happening.  He was
also dazed by a wound in the head received as he was hurled from his
horse.

Dionysio was on the point of killing him, as he had many a Spaniard,
but reflecting that the Americano whom he was guiding would doubtless
enjoy that pleasure, he generously decided to yield it to him and
reserve the victim until Ridge should finish his nap.  So, after
gagging the Spaniard, that he might not disturb him who slept, Dionysio
flung him across his shoulder and carried him to camp.  There he
secured him to a tree so that Ridge might see him upon awakening, and
then calmly resumed his duties as camp cook and sentry.  The
unfortunate prisoner, wounded, bound, and powerless to move or speak,
tormented by heat and insects, and parched by a burning thirst, had
thus suffered for hours, while the young American who was to kill him
slept close at hand, blissfully unaware of his presence.

As Ridge pityingly cleansed the face of this enemy whose present
sufferings had been terminated by unconsciousness, he all at once
recognized it as that of the officer who had conveyed him from General
Pando's quarters to the guard-house in Holguin.  At the same time,
noting a slight rustle of paper somewhere in the man's clothing, he
began a search for it, and finally discovered a despatch in an official
envelope.  Carefully opening this without breaking the seal, he found
it to contain two papers.  One was a personal note from General Pando
to the Spanish commander at Jiguani, calling his attention to the
other, which was an order to set forth at once with his entire force
for Santiago, where an American army was about to land, and where he
would be joined by 5000 troops from Holguin.

"This is interesting," commented Ridge, "and of course must not be
allowed to reach its destination.  So I will just put in its place my
Carranza despatch to this same gentleman, informing him that the
Americans are to land at Cienfuegos.  It will have added weight if it
appears to come from General Pando, and will surely start him off in a
direction where he can do no harm.

"I wonder, though, what I had best do with you," he continued,
meditatively, addressing the unconscious form beside him.  "Of course
you will recognize me as soon as you are able to sit up and take
notice.  Of course, also, I can't kill you in cold blood; nor can I
turn you over to the tender mercies of Dionysio, for that would amount
to exactly the same thing.  I don't dare let you go, and I can't be
bothered with you as a prisoner; so what on earth I am to do with you
I'm sure I don't know.  I almost wish you wouldn't wake up at all."

Just here, owing to Ridge's kindly ministrations, the cause of his
perplexity opened his eyes, looked the young American full in the face,
and smiled a faint smile in which recognition and gratitude were
equally blended.




CHAPTER XVI

ASLEEP WHILE ON GUARD

Of course there was no further thought of continuing the journey that
evening, for the Spanish officer was in no condition to travel, and our
young trooper was not one to desert even an enemy who was helpless and
in distress.  So he informed Dionysio that they would remain where they
were until morning, and ordered him to make things as comfortable as
possible for the night.

"You no kill him?" asked the negro, who had regarded his companion's
actions of the past half hour with evident disfavor.

"Not to-night," replied Ridge.  "I am going to save him until morning.
He will be stronger then, and in a better condition to afford us
entertainment.  Besides, I want time to think out the best way of doing
it."

"To-morrow you kill him?" persisted the other.

"Perhaps.  That is, if I have hit upon a good plan.  Something novel
and interesting, you know."

"You no kill him, me kill him," muttered Dionysio, as he sullenly began
to make preparations for the night.

The remark, though not intended for the young American, still reached
his ears and caused him a feeling of uneasiness.

"I believe you would, you black devil," he said to himself, "but you
sha'n't commit your cowardly murder if I can help it."  Then he again
turned his attention to the prisoner, who was by this time sitting up
and regarding his captors curiously.

"Are you going to kill me?" he asked, as Ridge rejoined him.

"No, of course not.  What put such an idea into your head?"

"Because it so often happens that undesirable prisoners are disposed of
in that way.  You know I was ordered to have one shot only last night
at just about this hour."

"Was it last night?" murmured Ridge.  "It seems a month ago."  Then he
added, aloud, "Yes, I know, for I recognize you as Lieutenant Navarro,
the officer who brought in the deserter, disposed of him according to
General Pando's order, and then conducted me to prison."

"For which reason I should think you would now want to kill me," said
the other, with a smile.

"We Americans are not in the habit of killing persons merely for
obedience to orders."

"You are an American, then?"

"Yes," admitted Ridge, "and I thought you knew I was one."

"I was not certain, nor was the General, though he was determined to be
on the safe side, and have you placed beyond a chance of making
mischief."

"So I understood," laughed Ridge, "and for that reason I came away
without waiting to say good-bye."

"Your escape raised an awful row," said the other, "and the General is
furious over it.  Swears he will hang every man, woman, or child
connected with it if he discovers who aided you.  Do you care to tell
me how it was effected?"

"No," was the prompt reply, "I do not."

"I didn't suppose you would.  At the same time I am greatly interested
in it, especially as it caused me to be sent on my present mission.
General Pando feared that you might make the same attempt at Jiguani as
at Holguin.  So I was ordered to get there first and have a reception
prepared for you.  Now, having failed to carry out his instructions, I
do not know that I should dare present myself before him again, even if
you should set me free, which, of course, is something not to be hoped
for.  What do you propose to do with me, anyway?"

"I don't know," replied Ridge, "but we will consider the situation
after supper, which I see is ready."

The simple meal of roasted yams, which in war time was the principal
article of food known to Cuban campaigners, was quickly eaten, and the
two young men, already regarding each other more as friends than
enemies, renewed their conversation.

"I am not anxious to resume my connection with General Pando's army in
any case," began Lieutenant Navarro, "since it is about to march
against your countrymen, whom I esteem highly."

"Why?" asked Ridge.  "Were you ever in my country?"

"Yes, and quite recently.  You see, I have some distant cousins of my
own name living in New Mexico, and only a year ago I paid them a visit.
I was so charmed with the country, and so cordially welcomed, that I
expressed a desire to remain with them and become a citizen of the
United States, They encouraged the idea, and offered me an interest in
a great ranch, where one of them, Maximilian by name, who is about my
own age, proposed to become my partner.  I accepted the offer, declared
my intention of becoming a citizen before the proper authorities, and
then returned to Spain to settle up my home affairs and procure money
for my new undertaking.

"Unfortunately I had not served out my full military term, and before I
could purchase exemption for the remaining time, there was a call for
more troops to quell this miserable insurrection, and I was ordered
with Blanco, the new Captain-General, to Cuba.  Of course I don't mind
fighting Cubans, whom I detest; but I do object to fighting against
those whom I already consider as my adopted countrymen, especially as I
have recently learned that the cousin with whom I was to go into
business has joined the American army."

"Maximilian Navarro of New Mexico!" exclaimed Ridge.  "Why, I know him
well.  He is a captain in my own regiment, the First Volunteer
Cavalry--the Rough Riders, as we are called.  I saw him only five days
ago, and hope soon to meet him again, before Santiago."

"Then are we friends rather than enemies!" cried the young Spaniard,
grasping the other's hand, "and I will go with you to meet my cousin."

"Would you go as a deserter?"

"No, but as a prisoner of war under your protection."

"Of course," replied Ridge, who had just gained an inspiration.  "A
prisoner of war on parole, for you will give me your promise not to
serve against the United States unless exchanged, will you not?"

"Most willingly," replied the other.

"But," continued Ridge, "if I take you to your cousin, I want you first
to do me a favor."

"Gladly."

"And before I give you my whole confidence you must earn it."

"If it lies within my power, I will do so."

"Very good," said Ridge.  "According to our laws, you are a citizen of
the United States from having filed your intention to become one.
Therefore, while not desiring you to fight against your native land, I
am going to ask you to prove your loyalty to your adopted country by
aiding my present mission."

"How may I do so?"

"By continuing your journey to Jiguani, delivering your despatches,
which, by-the-way, I have examined; procuring for me a Spanish uniform,
and meeting me two days later at Enramada.  From there we will go
together into Santiago, where you shall introduce me as your friend.
Then will come my turn; for when the Americans land we will join them,
and I shall take pleasure in presenting you to my friends as my friend.
Will you undertake to do this?"

"Señor Teniente, I will," answered the young Spaniard, "and there is my
hand on it.  One thing, however, I must ask," he continued.  "How will
you deliver me from the hate of yonder black devil by the fire?  But
for you he would have taken my life long since, and when he discovers
that you do not intend to kill me, he will assuredly make an attempt to
do so."

"I have no doubt he would if he had a chance," replied Ridge, "but we
must take turns at watching, and see that he doesn't get one.  I will
remain on guard the first half of the night, since you need sleep more
than I, and will also show how fully I trust you by restoring your
pistol."

"Your confidence will not be misplaced, señor."

With these arrangements perfected, the little camp sank into quiet, the
only sounds being the chirping of insects, the harsh cries of night
birds, and those made by the horses, which occasionally snorted at some
fancied alarm.  The two white men lay in their respective hammocks
under the rude thatch of palm leaves, while Dionysio occupied a similar
but smaller shelter beyond the fire.

For a long time Ridge watched the flicker of its flames, until they
finally died down, and the darkness was only illumined by the fitful
flashing of fire-flies.  As these were the most brilliant he had ever
seen, his eyes followed their zig-zag dartings until they exercised a
hypnotic influence, and his heavy breathing showed him to be fast
asleep.

A few minutes later the occupant of the other hammock lifted his head
and listened.  Then he slipped noiselessly to the ground and
disappeared in the profound darkness at the back of the hut.  For an
hour longer the peace of the camp was unbroken.  At the end of that
time one of the horses snorted more loudly than usual, while the other
dropped heavily to the ground as though lying down.

After awhile, if Ridge had been awake, he might have noted a slight
rustling in the grass, as though some animal were making a cautious way
through it towards the hut.  But his slumber was too profound to be
easily broken, and no instinct warned him of approaching danger.

The rustling drew closer, until it sounded within a few feet of the
unconscious sleeper.  Then a black bulk slowly lifted from the ground,
and gradually assumed the proportions of a man standing motionless.  Of
a sudden this figure, whose blurred outlines were barely discernible,
made a quick movement, and the hammock of the young Spaniard was cut in
twain by the sweeping blow of a machete.

At the same moment a pistol-shot rang out, followed by another and
another.  There was a smothered yell, a rush of feet, a brief struggle
from the place where the horses were tethered, a crash, and directly
afterwards Señorita, trembling in every limb, made her way to where her
young master stood, as he had leaped from his hammock, dazed, and
uncertain what to do.




CHAPTER XVII

IN THE HANDS OP SPANISH GUERILLAS

In addition to his alarm, Ridge was overcome with a guilty knowledge of
having fallen asleep while on guard.  Of course, he felt certain that
he had only closed his eyes for a minute; but in that minute something
dreadful, for which he was responsible, had happened.  He had no idea
what it was, but imagined the worst, and was greatly relieved to hear
the voice of his prisoner-comrade at his side.

"What on earth--" he began; but just then Señorita dashed up to him in
a state of terror, and for the moment demanded his attention.  As he
soothed her he called loudly for Dionysio, but there was no response.

"I am afraid he has escaped," said the young Spaniard, in rather a
faint voice, from the ground, to which he had dropped exhausted by
weakness and the intense strain of the past few hours.  "He tried to
kill me, you know."

"Tried to kill you!" exclaimed Ridge, incredulously.  "But wait a
moment.  We must have a light.  This darkness is awful."

Thus saying, he stepped to where a few coals of the camp-fire still
smouldered, and began to throw on sticks, which, after a little
coaxing, sprang into a bright blaze.  By its light he detected two dark
forms lying motionless a short distance away, and, with pistol held
ready for action, went to discover their nature.

"Navarro must have been dreaming, or else greatly mistaken," he said to
himself, "for here is Dionysio fast asleep.  Come, wake up!" he cried
aloud, at the same time prodding the prostrate form with his toe.  As
there was no response, he stooped to give the sleeper a vigorous
shaking; but almost with the first touch he sprang back in horror.  The
man lay on his back, but with his head so twisted about that only its
rear portion was visible, and Ridge instinctively knew that he was
dead.  The other motionless form was that of a dead horse, the one
recently ridden by Lieutenant Navarro.

Having made this ghastly discovery, Ridge hastily returned to the hut
to gain from his companion an explanation of what had happened,

"I could not sleep," said the young Spaniard, in answer to his
inquiries, "though I lay still and tried hard to do so, until, by your
heavy breathing, I discovered that you were no longer awake."

"I am awfully ashamed of myself," said Ridge.

"It is not to be wondered at," rejoined the other, consolingly.  "You
had not so much at stake as I, for only my life was threatened.
Somehow, I felt certain that the black fiend who thirsted for my blood
was also lying awake, and would make an attempt to kill me in my
hammock before morning.  So, without disturbing you, I moved to the
back of the hut and waited for him.  It must have been an hour before
the horses began to give signs of great uneasiness, and then one of
them fell.  I suppose he must have killed it."

"Yes," said Ridge, "I reckon he did, since it now lies dead, and
bleeding from a stab behind the left fore-shoulder."

"I imagined something of the kind," continued the other, "but still
thought it safer for both of us not to disturb you.  So I waited, more
keenly alert than before, but heard nothing, until I saw him slowly
rise and stand beside my hammock.  The blow that he dealt it would have
cut me in two had I still occupied it; and, with this discovery of his
design, I fired three shots, one of which, I think, must have hit him.
At any rate, he uttered a great cry and staggered away."

"After that," said Ridge, "he must have tried to escape on my horse,
which probably flung him over her head and broke his neck.  Didn't you,
old girl?"

Had Señorita possessed the power of speech, she would certainly have
answered "Yes," for that was exactly what had happened.

"At any rate," continued the young trooper, with a sigh of relief, "I
am mighty glad my neglect of duty did not result more seriously.  At
the same time we are left in an awkward shape for continuing our
journey."

"How so?" asked the other.  "I am not afraid to walk."

"But I have lost my guide."

"You have lost one and gained another, who will serve you with equal
skill, since I know very well the road to Jiguani."

"Of course you must know it," replied Ridge.  "How stupid of me not to
remember! and, as we can take turns at riding my horse, we shall
doubtless get along all right."

There was no more sleep for either of the young soldiers that night;
and by earliest dawn, having already eaten their frugal breakfast of
roasted yams--an article of diet of which Ridge was becoming heartily
tired--they set forth on the road to Jiguani.

As they were already on the southern slope of the mountains and
descending into a broad valley, they made such rapid progress, by
alternately riding and walking, that the sun had not passed its
meridian when they reached the Cauto--the longest river in Cuba.  There
was formerly a small settlement at the crossing, but it had long since
been destroyed, and now only presented the sight, so common in Cuba, of
charred ruins devoid of human presence.  There was neither bridge nor
boat, but Lieutenant Navarro declared the river fordable at this point.
Ridge regarded dubiously the chocolate-colored flood already swollen by
the first of the summer rains, and wished that they had at least two
horses with which to cross it.  As they had not, and as nothing was to
be gained by delay, he took his companion up behind him, and Señorita,
thus doubly burdened, plunged bravely into the stream.  Until they were
half-way across all went well, the mare cautiously feeling her way, and
the water not reaching more than to her belly,  Then, without warning,
she dropped into a hole so deep that the turbid current closed above
the heads of her riders as well as her own.

Reappearing on the surface, the mare struck out for shore, with Ridge
swimming beside her, and the young Spaniard, who was a poor swimmer,
clinging desperately to her tail.  Fortunately the channel into which
they had plunged was so narrow that within two minutes they had reached
its farther side in safety, and could once more touch bottom.  Wading
up-stream to a point where the road left the river, they emerged from
the water, soaked and dripping, but thankful to have met with no worse
harm than a ducking.

As Ridge turned to laugh at the forlorn appearance presented by his
companion, the latter uttered an exclamation of dismay, and at the same
moment they were surrounded by half a dozen as villainous-looking
ruffians as our troopers had yet seen in Cuba.  His heart sank within
him.  Again was he a prisoner with the prospect at least of having his
journey seriously delayed.  In the confusion of the moment he did not
note that those into whose hands he had fallen wore blouses and
trousers of blue drilling traversed by narrow, vertical stripes of
white, the campaign uniform of the Spanish army in Cuba; but his
companion instantly recognized it, and demanded, with a tone of
authority, "Who commands here?"

"I do," replied the most ill-favored of the crew, stepping forward.

"You are a guerilla, are you not?"

"A captain of irregular cavalry, señor.  And you?"

"I," replied the lieutenant, "am a major of regulars, attached to the
staff of General Luis Pando, and on an urgent mission to Jiguani.  My
horse was killed by insurgents this morning, and I had a narrow escape,
leaving one of them dead."

"Which is the reason that two of you rode one horse in crossing the
river, and so led me to mistake you for 'mamby?'" [1] said the guerilla
captain.

"Very likely, sir, though I can't be accountable for your mistakes.
Now you may let your men make a fire by which we can dry ourselves, and
you may also have food prepared, for we are hungry."

"But your friend, Major, who is he?" asked the other, scanning Ridge's
brown canvas uniform doubtfully.

"None of your business, sir.  Let it be sufficient that he is my
friend, and do as I bid you without further words."

At this Discipline, even though suspicious, yielded to the voice of
Authority, and the guerilla made surly announcement that both fire and
food were close at hand.

This proved true; for, on gaining the face of the bluff, our friends
found themselves in the presence of some twenty more guerillas, who
were gathered about fires, cooking and eating strips of meat from a
recently butchered steer.  Their horses were picketed close at hand,
and beyond them grazed a herd of small wild-looking Cuban cattle.  For
these this detachment of "beef-riders" had scoured the country-side,
and they were now returning with them to Jiguani.  A scout from this
party, patrolling the river-bank, had notified the captain that
strangers were about to cross from the other side, and he had thus been
enabled to prepare for their reception.

He was evidently disappointed that they and their belongings could not
be seized as prizes of war, and manifested this by the envious glances
that he cast at Señorita as well as upon the weapons that Ridge was
drying and cleaning.  Especially was the young trooper's rifle an
object of longing admiration, and, after a critical examination, the
captain even went so far as to offer to buy it; but Ridge refused to
part with the gun, whereupon the man turned sulky, and declined to hold
further intercourse with him.

After a while the whole party again took the road, Lieutenant Navarro
riding a spare horse that he had "requisitioned" from the guerilla
leader.  The latter rode with his guests at the head of the
advance-guard, and Ridge noticed that, as two scouts were still in
front of them, while others of the guerillas rode on either side, they
were completely surrounded, and practically prisoners.  He suggested as
much to his companion, but the latter only smiled, and said:

"What matters it, so long as we are safely escorted to Jiguani?"

"But I don't want to go there."

"True.  I had forgotten.  You wish to proceed to Enramada, where I am
to join you."

"Yes, on the second day from now."

"With only slight delay we might travel together."

"I have reasons for preferring to go alone."

"You will be in danger from the Cubans."

"Ask your guerilla captain if he thinks so."

The latter said he did not believe there were any insurgents on the
Enramada road just then, since their chief, General Garcia, had
withdrawn from Bayamo, and was understood to be collecting his entire
force near El Cobre, in the Sierra Maestra, or southern coast range.

"Very well, then," said Ridge.  "I desire to leave you as soon as we
come to the Enramada road, and I wish that you would inform your
guerilla friend that I propose to do so."

"I will do better; for when we reach the forks, which will be shortly,
I will order you to take the one to the left, while we keep to the
right, and he will not dare attempt to detain you."

But the guerilla, who had determined to possess himself of Ridge's
horse and rifle, did dare do that very thing.  Thus, when at the
forking of the roads the order was given as proposed, and Ridge started
to obey it, the captain whipped out a pistol, and declared that the
stranger must accompany him into Jiguani for examination before the
authorities.

At this our young trooper clapped spurs to Señorita, flung himself flat
on her back, and dashed away on his chosen road, followed by a
scattering volley of pistol-shots, and by four of the best mounted
among the guerillas, who, at their captain's command, sprang after him
in hot pursuit.


[1] Derisive term applied by Spaniards to Cuban insurgents.




CHAPTER XVIII

DEATH OF SEÑORITA

From the earliest days of Spanish rule in Cuba human life has been held
very cheap.  Especially of late years, when thousands of men, women,
and children have been wantonly murdered, has the killing of a man for
any reason been lightly regarded.  So in the present instance the
guerilla captain instructed those detailed to overtake the escaping
prisoner to kill him and bring back all his property.  It seemed to him
an easy task for his well-mounted beef-riders, familiar with every foot
of that region, to overtake and overpower one who had already travelled
far that day, and was evidently a stranger to the country.  When they
had done so he would obtain that coveted rifle.  On the whole, he was
glad that one of his prisoners had made a foolish dash for liberty, and
rather wished the other would do the same thing.

But the other contented himself with denouncing the action of the
guerilla captain in bitter terms, and promising to report it the moment
they reached the Spanish lines.  At all of which the latter only smiled
contemptuously.

In the mean time Ridge, lying low on his horse's neck to offer as small
a target as possible to the shots fired by his pursuers whenever they
sighted him, was uttering words of encouragement in Señorita's ear, and
she was responding with such a burst of speed that the beef-riders were
quickly left far behind.  At length nothing was to be seen or heard of
them; and, believing that they had given over the chase as hopeless,
the young trooper allowed the panting mare who had borne him so bravely
to slacken her heading pace until it was reduced to a walk.

He was still in the broad Cauto valley, where the sabanetas, or open
glades of tall grasses, were interspersed with wide tracts of
impenetrable jungle and forests of palms.  By these his view was
limited on every side, but he knew that the mountains among which he
hoped to find the insurgent leader lay to the southward.  So he
determined to leave the road by the first trail leading in that
direction, and continue on it until he should meet some one willing to
guide him to his destination.

Having formed this crude plan, and believing that Señorita had been
allowed sufficient time to recover her breath, he began to urge her to
a better speed, but, to his surprise, she failed to respond.  Neither
words nor spur served to move her from the slow walk into which she had
fallen.  Such a thing had not happened since the beginning of their
acquaintance in far-away San Antonio, and the young trooper dismounted
to discover what had gone wrong.

He had not far to look, for, as he touched the ground, a red trickle of
blood caught his eye.  The plucky little mare had been hit by one of
the beef-riders' shots, but had given no sign until now, when her
weakness could no longer be overcome.  So copious was the flow of blood
that it was evident an artery had been severed, and already had the
loss been very great.  In vain did Ridge strive to stanch the cruel
outspurt.  He had no proper appliances, and the evil was too serious to
be remedied by his simple skill.  Even as he made the attempt the
gallant beast swayed, staggered, and then sank with a groan to the
ground.  Almost sobbing with grief and dismay, Ridge flung himself
beside her and threw an arm caressingly across her neck.

"Poor old girl!  Dear old girl!" he cried.  "To think that I should
have brought you here just for this.  It is too bad! too bad!  And what
shall I do without you?"

Then with a sudden thought he sprang to his feet and began an eager
search on both sides of the road for water, but found none.
Disappointed and heavy-hearted, he returned to Señorita.  She lay as he
had left her, but motionless and with closed eyes.  Again he knelt at
her side, and at the sound of his voice the loving eyes were once more
opened.  At the same time, with a mighty effort, the proud head was
uplifted, as though the mare were about to struggle to her feet.  Just
then came a shot from behind them, and, with a bullet intended for her
young master buried deep in her brain, the dear horse yielded up her
life.

The shot was so instantly followed by a clatter of hoofs, that Ridge
had barely time to snatch his rifle and fling himself to the ground
behind Señorita's body before the beef-riders appeared charging up the
road, yelling and firing, as they came.

With his rifle resting across the mare's side, Ridge took quick aim and
fired.  One of the advancing horsemen threw up his arms and fell over
backward, but the young American did not see him; for, without waiting
to note the effect of his shot, he dropped the rifle and seized his
revolver.  It was a self-cocking weapon, and as rapidly as he could
pull the trigger he delivered the contents of all six chambers at the
guerillas.  Whether or not they fired in return he did not know, but as
the smoke from his own fusillade cleared away he saw one man lying
motionless in the road, and another dragging himself into the grass at
one side.  From that direction also came the furious plunging of a
horse.  Of the others who had pursued him nothing was to be seen.
Hastily reloading his revolver, and throwing another cartridge into the
chamber of his rifle, Ridge nervously awaited further developments.
Would they again charge upon his front, or would they seek to outflank
him by crawling through the dense growth on either side?  The latter
would be the safer move, and could be easily made.

As our young soldier realized this, he decided to forestall the attempt
by taking to the grass himself, and in another moment he was cautiously
creeping on hands and knees amid the hot brown stalks that grew many
feet above his head.  Fearing that his movement might attract
attention, he did not go far; but, after making his way for a few rods
parallel to the road, he again gained its edge and halted at a place
where, peering between the grass stems, he could see his dead horse.

Here he lay motionless until he became convinced that his enemies had
beaten a retreat and would trouble him no more.  Thus thinking,
impatient of delay, and painfully cramped by his position, he was about
to rise when the long silence was broken by a low cuckoo call close at
hand.  Was it a signal or the note of some strange bird?  As Ridge
hesitated, the call was answered from the other side of the road.
Again it sounded from the side on which he lay; then, from the opposite
side a man's head came slowly into view, low down among the grass
stems.  After hasty glances both up and down the road it was withdrawn,
and the cuckoo notes were again exchanged.  Then two of the baffled
beef-riders rose boldly to their feet and stepped out in full view,
close beside the dead horse.  The young trooper could not distinguish
their words; but, from their angry gestures, they were discussing his
disappearance and the advisability of a further attempt to capture him.

At the same moment his own thoughts were of a most conflicting nature.
One of the men was covered by his rifle, and his finger was on its
ready trigger, but he hesitated to pull it.  They had killed his horse
and sought to take his life.  Even now they would shoot him down
without mercy, and as a pastime, if the opportunity offered.  Knowing
this, and realizing his danger if those men should discover him, the
young American still hesitated to fire from ambush and take human life
in cold blood.

That others did not feel as he did about such things was shown while he
hesitated, for the two beef-riders had been in sight but a few seconds
when there came a flash and a roar of guns from the opposite side of
the road, a little beyond where Ridge was hiding.  Both the guerillas
fell as though struck by a thunder-bolt, and their blue-clad forms lay
motionless across Señorita's body.  Her death was amply avenged.

At this startling demonstration in his behalf, Ridge sprang to his feet
in full view of half a dozen men, ragged and swarthy, who were running
down the road with yells of delight.  They halted at sight of the
stranger, and some raised their weapons; but he, recognizing them as
Cubans, called out: "I am Americano, and those Spaniards whom you have
so bravely killed sought my life.  Viva Cuba libre!"

Upon this they again advanced with shouts and eager questions.  They
belonged to a detachment of the Cuban army on its way to join General
Garcia, and had been attracted by the sound of firing.  Coming to
discover its cause, they had seen the dead horse, and were stealing
cautiously towards it when halted by the familiar cuckoo call of their
enemies.

That Ridge had suffered at the hands of the Spaniards, and fought with
them, was a sufficient passport to their favor.  Thus when he explained
his desire to meet their general they consented to guide him to the
Cuban rendezvous, which they said was high up in the mountains.

With a heavy heart and tear-dimmed eyes the young American turned from
a last look at his beloved horse, and set forth with these new
acquaintances on their toilsome march.  He carried only his arms, but
the Cubans had stripped the dead--both men and horses--of everything
valuable, and were thus well laden with trophies.

A short distance from the spot where Señorita had given her own life in
saving that of her master, they turned into a barely discernible trail
that soon brought them to the foot-hills, where they camped for the
night.  All the next day they pushed on, with infrequent halts, ever
climbing higher over trails so rough and obscure that only experienced
eyes could follow them.  Here and there they passed food-stations
guarded by old men, poorly clad women, and naked children.  Each of
these consisted of a thatched hut, an open fire, and a sweet-potato
patch, and to the marching Cubans they supplied roasted potatoes,
sugar-cane, and occasionally a few ripe mangoes.

Ridge and a guide, to whom he had promised money, outstripped the
others, and shortly before sunset of the second day reached the summit
of a pass lying between the great bulk of El Cobre on the east and Pico
Turquino, the tallest mountain in Cuba.  From this point was outspread
a superb view of densely wooded mountain slopes tumbling steeply down
to the boundless blue of the Caribbean Sea.  Here the guide departed,
promising shortly to return, leaving Ridge to gaze upon the wonderful
panorama unfolded on all sides, and thrilled with the thought that he
had crossed Cuba.

While he stood thus, forgetful of everything save the marvellous beauty
of his surroundings, he was puzzled by a sound as of distant thunder
coming from a direction in which no cloud was visible.  As he
speculated concerning this phenomenon, he was startled by a voice close
at hand saying, in English: "That is a welcome sound to Cuban ears,
señor, since it is the thunder of American war-ships bombarding the
defences of Santiago."




CHAPTER XIX

CALIXTO GARCIA THE CUBAN

"The thunder of American war-ships!"  Instantly, as Ridge learned its
nature, the mighty sound took on a new significance, and seemed like
the voice of his own glorious country demanding freedom for an
oppressed people.  Filled with this thought, he turned to the man who
had suggested it, and found himself in the presence of one wearing the
uniform of a Cuban officer.  The latter had taken off his hat, and the
young American noted a livid bullet scar in the centre of his broad
white forehead.  The man was elderly, fine-looking, and smooth-shaven
except for a heavy white mustache.  His picture had been published in
every illustrated paper and magazine in the United States.

Promptly giving a military salute, Ridge said, "I believe I have the
honor of addressing General Garcia."

"Yes, I am Calixto Garcia.  But who are you?"

"An officer of the American army, come to you with a message from its
commanding General."

"Have you credentials or despatches by which you may be known?"

"Only this, sir."  Here Ridge lowered his voice and gave, for the
second time since landing in Cuba, the secret countersign of the Junta.

"It is sufficient," said the General, smiling and holding out his hand.
"Now what is your message?"

"That the American army of invasion, having sailed from Tampa, is due
within the next two days to arrive off Santiago; and General Shafter,
who commands it, is desirous of an interview with you before landing
his troops.  He asks you to name the place of meeting."

"Thank you, sir, for bringing me this great news, and gladly will I
meet your General whenever he may choose to come.  Also I will fix the
place of meeting down yonder at Aserraderos.  From this station I will
watch day and night for his ships, and when they come will be ready to
receive him."

"Very good, sir.  I will so report to my General."

"But how do you expect to communicate with him?" asked Garcia,
curiously.

"I propose to go from here to Enramada, to which place I was about to
ask you to favor me with a mount and a guide.  At that point I have
arranged to meet a friend who will give me Spanish protection, and
under whose escort I shall visit Santiago.  After that I shall be
guided by circumstances.  But if I live I shall certainly be at
Daiquiri in time to meet the American army."

"You have undertaken a difficult task, and I only hope it may be
accomplished," replied the General, thoughtfully.  "Of course I will
furnish you with a horse and an escort to Enramada, which place, as you
are doubtless aware, is already occupied by my men."

"By the Cubans?" cried Ridge, in dismay.

"Certainly.  We drove out the Spaniards several days ago, and have
advanced our lines to within a few miles of Santiago.  At present that
city is surrounded on three sides by the forces of Generals Castillo
and Rabi."

"In that case, sir, I shall ask for protection to the extreme limit of
the Cuban lines, both for myself and my f

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