"The -well is poisoned; don't drink, it will kill you!" gasped the girl, in Spanish.
As old readers know, Gilbert understood a little of the language, having picked it up while on a trip to Cuba, and also while serving as a Rough Rider in that island. He started back and caught the maiden by the arm.
"Poisoned! you are certain?" he cried.
"Yes, señor; my uncle put the poison in only yesterday. He lost much at Angat, and he is very angry at the Americanos in consequence. He knew the soldiers were coming this way, and he wanted to poison as many as he could. He put a water-barrel down on the road full of the poisoned water, too."
"Who is your uncle, the man who just ran off?"
"Yes, señor. But, oh, do not go after him, I pray you!" cried the girl, in high alarm. "I would not have spoken, but I could not see you poisoned before my very eyes; no, not that!"
As quickly as he could, Gilbert translated her words to Ben, who listened in amazement.
"The villain!" ejaculated the young captain. "I've heard of this sort of thing being done before. I wonder where that barrel is that she spoke about? We must find it and empty it of its contents."
