they ran off after the assault on him," concluded Brownell.
The talking had somewhat exhausted the wounded man and Ben forbore to question him further just then. While Barton Brownell rested easily on some moss, the young captain turned to the commander of the first battalion.
"What shall we do next, major?"
"I think we had better be getting back," was the ready answer. "The sooner we report to the colonel the better he will be pleased."
"I feel like pushing right through to San Isidro, on a hunt for my brother."
"It would be a foolish movement, captain, for, unless I am greatly mistaken, the insurgents have a large force in front of us, and to attempt breaking through would be taking a big risk. Be thankful that your brother is safe thus far. As long as he remains quiet I don't think the rebels will harm him."
Ben could not but believe that this was good advice, and he agreed to do as the major thought best. It was now three o'clock in the morning, and half an hour later they started, thinking to rejoin their command before daylight.
