the Filipino, and it was a battle with swords, first in front of the horse and then around the animal. The blows flew thick and hot, and soon the major found that he had met a man fully worthy of his steel.
In the meantime, although the other officer had succeeded in mounting, his horse was scared, and instead of moving as directed, pranced around madly in a semicircle, throwing himself so wildly that the rider had to hold on around the beast's neck to keep from being thrown off.
"Stop!" called out Gilbert; but it was so much breath wasted, for the Filipino could not have stopped had he wished. Suddenly the horse bolted and made for the brush at the far end of the field. The rider was still on him, but he had dropped his pistol, and this weapon Gilbert now ran and picked up. It was silver-mounted and bore the name, in quaint Spanish lettering, Adoz.
"Adoz!" cried the young Southerner. "He must be the noted guerilla chief. Oh, if only I could bag him!"
Hardly had the thought entered his mind than the third horse came up to him, swishing his tail nervously. Without giving a second thought to
