When Santiago Fell: or, The War Adventures of Two Chums

“Well, we can’t reach a resting-place too soon,” grumbled Burnham. “I can scarcely drag one foot after the other, and it’s so close my clothing is fairly steaming.”

“You are no worse off than any of us,” I made answer, as cheerfully as I could.

The highway was a stony one, and the rains had washed away what little dirt there was, making walking difficult. However, we had not very far to go. A turn brought us in sight of a long, low house built of logs and thatched with palm; and Captain Guerez called a halt.

“I’ll go forward and investigate,” he said. “In the meantime be on guard against anybody following us from the railroad.”

He was gone less than quarter of an hour, and on returning said it was all right. A very old man named Murillo was in sole charge of the house, and he was a strong Cuban sympathizer.

The place reached, we lost no time in divesting ourselves of a portion of our clothing and making ourselves comfortable in some grass hammocks spread between the house posts.

“We ought to start early in the morning,” I said, my thoughts still on my father.

“We will start at four o’clock,” announced Captain Guerez. “So make the most of your rest.”

The captain had intended to divide up the night into watches, but Murillo came forward and volunteered to stand guard.

“You go to sleep,” he said in Spanish. “I sleep when you are gone. I know how to watch.”

Feeling the old man could be trusted, we all retired. In a few minutes Burnham was snoring, and shortly after the others also dropped asleep.

It lacked yet a few minutes of four o’clock in the morning when Murillo came stealing into the house and shook everyone by the shoulder.

“Spanish soldiers down by the railroad,” he explained hurriedly. “They intend to come up this road.”

“Then let us be off!” cried Captain Guerez.

All of us were already arranging our toilets. In a few seconds we were ready to leave, and Murillo was paid for the trouble he had taken in our behalf.

“Have they horses?” asked Captain Guerez; and Murillo nodded.

“Then come, all of you!” cried Alano’s father. He started out of the door, and we came after him. Hardly, however, had he taken a dozen steps than he pushed each of us behind a clump of bushes.

“Soldiers!” he muttered. “They are coming from the opposite direction!”

“We are caught in a trap!” exclaimed Alano. “We cannot go back, and we cannot go forward.”

“Here is a how d’ye do!” put in Burnham. “I’m sure I don’t want to take to those beastly swamps.”

Murillo had followed us to the doorway. His face took on a troubled look, for he wanted us to get away in safety.

“More soldiers coming the other way!” he cried. “What will you do? Ah, I have it! Come into the house at once?”

“But what will you do?” queried Captain Guerez impatiently.

“I’ll show you. Come, and you shall be safe.”

The old man spoke so confidently that we followed him inside at once. Pushing aside a rude table which stood over a rush matting, he caught hold of a portion of the flooring. A strong pull, and up came a trapdoor, revealing a hole of inky darkness beneath.

“Into that, all of you!” he cried; and down we went, to find ourselves in a rude cellar about ten feet square and six feet deep. As soon as the last of us was down, Murillo replaced the trapdoor, matting, and table, and we heard him throw off some of his clothing and leap into one of the hammocks.

We had been left in total darkness, and now stood perfectly still and listened intently. Not more than three minutes passed, when we heard the tramping of horses' hoofs on the rocky road. The house reached, the animals came to a halt, and several soldiers dismounted. A rough voice yelled out in Spanish:

“Hullo, in there! Who lives here?”

“I do,” replied Murillo, with a start and a yawn, as though he had just awakened from a long sleep.

“Have you seen anything of four strangers around here?”

“No, capitan.”

There was a pause, and the leader of the soldiers came tramping inside.

“You are sure you are telling me the truth?”

“Yes, capitan.”

“It is strange.”

The newcomer was about to go on, when a shout from outside attracted his attention. The soldiers from the opposite direction had come up. A short conference was held, of which, however, we heard nothing distinctly. Then some of the soldiers came inside, and we heard their heavy boots moving directly over our heads.

“You say you saw nobody?” was again asked of Murillo.

“No, capitan, not a soul. But then I have been asleep since evening. I am an old man, and I need a great deal of rest.”

“You are lazy, no doubt,” came with a rough laugh. “Andros, what do you think?”

“What should I think? There seems to be no one around. We might make a search.”

“Yes, we’ll do that. It can do no harm. Tell the other men to scour the woods and brush.”

The order was given; and a moment later those who had first come in began to search the house.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

CAPTAIN GUEREZ MAKES A DISCOVERY

We listened in much consternation while the soldiers overhead moved from one portion of the dwelling to another. Would they discover us?

“Be prepared for anything!” whispered Captain Guerez, and they were the only words spoken.

There was no second story to the house, so the search through the rooms took but a few minutes, and the soldiers came to a halt around the table.

“I suppose you are a rebel,” said the officer abruptly to Murillo.

“I am an old man, capitan; I wish to end my days in peace.”

“I know your kind.” The officer paused. “Well, comrades, we may as well be on our way.”