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"Over with it," Sergeant Hal commanded, and the body was hurled to the ground outside. An instant later there was a shout that was soon changed to a wail. In the growing daylight several of the Moro fighters had recognized the grisly message that had been hurled to them. Half a dozen fighting men dropped their weapons, picked up the datto's body and hurried off with it to a grove beyond.
But to-night we tried to creep through the datto's lines and get here. All but the six men with me were caught, and their fate must have been awful." Señor Davo shuddered, then went on: "I come to beseech you that you allow my poor fellows to come inside your lines. You know me, Corporal, and know that we're all right." "Yes, bring your men inside our line," decided Corporal Duxbridge.
The line of bayonets swept forward, but news of the death of the datto had already reached his would-be defenders. The regulars swept through, meeting little resistance, for hope had left the Moros with the passing of their savage prince. In a twinkling the datto's house was in the hands of the regulars.
Prescott asked no question, but watched with interest what followed. Across the yard Hal's squad bore the datto's body, to a point of the walls where the regulars were making their fiercest fight to repulse the Moros outside. "Two of you climb up on the wall," Hal ordered. "The other two pass the body up." This was done.
They had estimated the datto's force at all the way from fifteen hundred to twenty-five hundred fighting men. Captains Cortland and Freeman, with their knowledge of the native tendency to exaggerate, had thus fixed the probable number at about eight hundred men. The second and the third days passed.
Led by the two young scouts, the entire command managed to advance, undetected, to a point from which Captain Freeman could dimly make out the mud walls of the datto's fort.
It had been warm work, and the young West Pointer was mopping his face with his handkerchief. At this juncture Hal appeared with four men. "Pardon me, sir," he said, saluting the lieutenant, "I am acting by Captain Freeman's orders." With that the young sergeant pointed to the datto's body. The four men lifted it, carrying it from the porch.
"I still have the Flag that the Moros insulted." "A good idea," nodded the commanding officer. "Get the Flag, Sergeant." Over the late datto's fort the Stars and Stripes soon fluttered. The troops were paraded to do the emblem honor.
"We'll walk through," he whispered. "I don't believe we will run into any of the datto's men hereabouts. If we do, leave it to me to do the first talking." "Jersey hog-Latin?" queried Noll, with a grin. "Of course; Spanish or English would be fatal to fellows who look the part that we're rigged up to play." Hal walked on, steadily, though with caution.
When that order comes remember that we simply must fight our way through the gate of the fort." Then he gave the order for the forward movement. Hal placed himself at the head of his detachment, the post of greatest danger. It was raining so heavily that even the guards at the datto's gate had relaxed their vigilance.
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