faces as the fugitives dashed past.

Now they were in the road.

This part of the village was deserted, for all the people had gone round to the rear of the house where the execution of Dan Daly was to have taken place. It was a sight they did not care to miss.

So Young Glory and Dan crossed the road and then entered a thick wood, which seemed to them to have no paths in it.

Through it they pushed their way, listening intently for sounds of their pursuers. Their progress was slow, but so would that be of the men who were after them. The only advantage the latter possessed was that they knew the country.

"Water!" cried Young Glory.

"It's a river, shure," said Dan.

"No, there's no river in these parts. I'm certain of that. It must be a creek—part of the sea, in fact."

"Faith, it's small use talkin' about it. It's there, an', begorra, our goose is cooked; we can niver get any further."

"It's a bad lookout."

"An' why shouldn't we swim, Young Glory?"

"And be shot down. How long would it take us to get to the other side? Why, if we escaped the bullets the Spaniards would send after us, we'd find the enemy waiting for us when we landed. That's so, Dan; take my word for it."

Dan turned slowly round. Young Glory regarded him with amazement.

"Where are you going?"

"It's savin' time I want to be. We can't escape. It's yourself said so, an' shure I'll jist go back an' meet the Spaniards."

"Pshaw! We are not captured yet, Dan! There are more ways than one of getting out of a difficulty. We'll keep along by the creek, close to the trees, ready to get amongst them if anybody shows up."

"It's in your hands, I am," said Dan Daly, resignedly.

Now, Young Glory knew the position was very serious. He had not the faintest notice how they were to escape.

It might have been 

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