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     Mendetta looked at him suspiciously. “That won't happen, you can rely on me not to do that. It would be a bad thing after sacrificing so much.”

     Holtz kicked a stone. “I'm afraid I hurt his Excellency's feelings just now,” he said. “Never mind, he is not likely to worry me much longer, is he?”

     Mendetta saw the last man walk through the gate and he gathered up his reins with relief. “Good-bye,” he said, “you will come through all right. I am sure of it.”

     “Good-bye,” Holtz said; “you must hurry.”

     Mendetta rode after the army and Holtz turned to look for his men. They were waiting for him in the shade of the farmhouse. The Lewis gun and a large wooden box stood near by.

     Holtz went over to them. “We will fortify the house,” he said. “No one can pass so long as the Lewis gun can fire. Have it taken to the top room, and board up the windows. I will leave it to you. It is where we will make our stand. Take water and food there. You know what to do. Leave Dedos with me, and take the others.” He turned to Dedos, who was very young, but his thin cruel mouth, and hard flat eyes, flat like those of a snake, made him look a lot older than he was. “You understand dynamite?”

     Dedos nodded. “Yes, Lieutenant,” he said, “I understand it very well.”

     “Over there is dynamite; fetch it. You will find also an exploder and some caps. Bring a spade too.”

     Dedos went over to the farmhouse and came back soon with a big sack on his back and a spade in his hand. Holtz took the spade from him. “Come with me,” he said.

     They walked a short distance down the rough road, away from the farm and in the opposite direction to the way the army had gone. At two hundred paces, Holtz stopped. “Here, you will prepare a mine,” he said. “You must be very careful that it is not seen easily. Use all the dynamite. When you have done this, lay a cable back to the farm. I don't know how much wire you have there, but I think it will reach the farm all right. This you must do very quickly. There is no time to waste. Do you understand?”

     Dedos smiled. The idea pleased him. “Immediately, Lieutenant,” he said.

     Holtz hurried back to the farmhouse. Rather to his surprise, he found that he was enjoying this. He felt that, after so many dreary days of retreat, this new activity acted as a tonic to his depression.

     Upstairs, in the farmhouse, Castra had set up the gun. Fernando was boarding up the remaining window, and Golz was staggering to and fro with buckets of water.

     The walls of the farmhouse were thick, and unless Pablo brought his artillery into action they had a very fair chance of holding the place for some hours.

     Holtz checked over the stores that the General had left for them. There were sufficient rations for four meals. It was enough. Holtz had no intention of holding the place longer than necessary. Not that he was going to surrender; he made a little face at the thought. Pablo was noted for his cruelty. He would have no mercy on prisoners.

     There was a story told about this Pablo. Holtz had heard it several times. He remembered quite well the first time he heard it. It was while he was spending a few days away from the actual front line preparing for an offensive which proved later to be unsuccessful. He had spent the day inspecting horses, guns and men, and in the evening he was glad to sit by the fire, relaxing his aching limbs. It was Santez, his brother officer, who began talking about Pablo.

     “I have studied this man,” Santez said, holding two bony hands towards the fire. “He interested me. I wanted to know why he is so successful in the field. Why it is that Cortez has tried so often to trap him and has failed each time. So, for some time I made it my business to find out things about him, and although I never succeeded in finding out why he is a better general than Cortez, I heard a little story about him which supports my theory that a General who is feared is more successful than a General who is merely admired.”

     Holtz had said, rather impatiently: “But no one admires Cortez. Are you comparing these two men?”

     “No. Cortez is a fool. Comparison is out of the question between them.”

     “I have heard it said that Pablo is very cruel,” Holtz said. “He has done many barbarous things in his time.”

     Santez nodded. “Yes,” he said, “I will tell you. I have heard it from a good source. It was told me by one of Pablo's men who fell into our hands a few weeks ago. It happened like this. There was an engagement; Pablo's advance was checked by a small band of our troops who had become separated from the main body. Pablo was very annoyed that such a small band could hold up an army as large as his. At the same time, he was determined that he would not lose any more men attacking this band who were on the top of a rocky hill which afforded excellent cover.