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 dust to strengthen this illusion, looking around with fierce whiskered face for somebody who stood his ground and wanted a bullet to make him yield it to a proper man. He saw only Henderson whisking the pistol from the artilleryman's holster, and commanding him to sit still.

"It is the cannon, it is the very cannon!" said Felipe, his eyes bright in the joy of this tremendous feat.

"Quick! see if it is loaded," Henderson directed.

Felipe flung himself from the saddle, ran to the cannon to sound it for a charge.

"It is not loaded, general," the soldier said, his eyes big with the fear for his life.

"How many are coming behind you?" Henderson asked him.

"Not a man," the soldier returned.

Helena had come up, Felipe's imperious command having stayed her in the bosque a little while, but no longer than the sound of the shot the officer fired, the one shot of the encounter. She was fo thrilled by the sight she saw, her pride in the man who had seen his moment and employed it, rose with such well-ing tenderness that her eyes were blinded for a little by her tears. She rode forward, pistol in her hand. The frightened soldier again made his frantic signal of surrender, lifting his hands high.

"Do you know how to load it, Felipe?" Henderson inquired anxiously.