Boy Scouts in the Philippines

G >> G. Harvey Ralphson >> Boy Scouts in the Philippines

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"What do you mean by that?" demanded Ned.

The question was a natural one, but was entirely unnecessary, for the
boy knew what was meant--knew on what desperate chance the lives of
himself and his friends rested.

"I mean," answered the Lieutenant, "that you are under arrest for piracy
on the high seas. Also for deliberate murder. Also for the larceny of
the _Manhattan_ from Manila."

"Very well," Ned replied, coolly, "take me back to Manila for trial. I
am willing to go with you."

"We don't take pirates back to Manila for trial," was the sneering
reply. "We give them a hearing and shoot them down on the spot. I'll
attend to your case directly."

"You've got your nerve!" cried Frank.

The Lieutenant turned with a snarl and pointed the end of his pencil
toward the two boys.

"Put them in irons," he said. "We'll give them a drum-head when we get
the goods out of the _Clara_ and will shoot them at midnight."

The boys made no resistance. That would have been useless, for there
were twenty to one against them.

"And," continued the officer, "send for the relatives of the natives
this man Nestor murdered on Banta Isle. We'll have them for witnesses."

"They attacked me," Ned said, in a second sorry that he had spoken at
all.

"They were ordered to recover the _Manhattan_, property stolen from the
government," was the reply, "and you resisted them. Put a stick in his
mouth, Ben, if he talks any more."

Ben, a muscular, scar-faced fellow of thirty, stepped forward and took a
seat on the rock near the captives. He had the mild, soft eyes of a
student of theology and the square jaw and hard hands of a prize
fighter.

"You're to keep your face closed--see?" he said, nudging Ned in the side
with an elbow. "You're to keep your clapper tied," he went on, "or I'll
tie it up for you. And how in the name of the Seven Seas did you ever
get in such a scrape, Ned Nestor?"

The last words were spoken very softly, but before that Ned had
recognized the man as one he had known and liked on the water front in
New York.

"You're in a bad box," Ben went on, "for that slob means business."

"There's just one chance for us," Ned whispered. "If the rockets are all
right, and the gunboat is not too far away to see the signals!"

CHAPTER XVII.

THE FLARE OF A ROCKET.

Ben looked at Ned in astonishment.

"You never got the _Manhattan_ away, did you?" he asked.

"The boys got it away," replied Ned.

The sailor remained silent for a moment, his face turned away from the
man he was supposed to be watching. When he spoke it was in a very low
tone, with little movement of the lips, and with his face still turned
toward the lieutenant.

"You should have gone with it," he said.

Ned did not reply. He had, at the last moment, made a rush for the boat,
but had been kept away from her by the natives.

"Carstens has been after you for a long time," the sailor went on. "He
got his orders at Manila."

"What was he doing on the island with the rebels?" asked Ned.

"I'm sure I don't know," was the whispered reply. "There's something
mighty funny going on here. More mischief, I'm afraid. No one knows what
is in the boxes that are now being unloaded."

"What does he say they are?" asked Ned.

"Supplies, to keep the chiefs good-natured."

"He brought them from Manila?"

"No, he picked them up over on the China coast."

"I thought so," Ned answered.

"Now, what is the answer to that remark," asked Ben.

"You'll get the answer directly," Ned replied. "Listen to the rattle of
the alleged supplies when a box is thrown down hard!"

"I was noticing that."

"Sounds like guns?" asked Ned.

"Yes, indeed, but why should the government be supplying the dagoes with
guns? We have all we can do to keep them decent when they have no arms
at all."

"You sailed from Manila with Carstens?" said Ned, putting his statement
in the form of a question.

"Yes, I left Manila on the _Clara_. He seemed to be all right until
after we picked up the boxes on the China coast. He was a good fellow,
when we left Manila, but he was confined to his cabin for a day and a
night and has been ugly as sin ever since. He came out of the sickness
looking a bit seedy but that ought not to cause him to turn into a
red-handed brute, had it?"

"He has been acting badly, has he?" asked Ned.

"As if the very Old Nick was in him," was the reply. "You heard what he
said about a drum-head court martial for you?" the sailor added.

"Of course."

"Well, he means it. He's got something against you that doesn't show on
the outside. He'll try you in five minutes and shoot you within the next
ten."

"That would be murder."

"Well, he has the authority, under the general instructions regarding
the treatment of pirates," said the sailor.

"But you know that I'm not a pirate, and so does Carstens," Ned said.
"You know that I came here in the _Manhattan_ without the consent of the
officers at Manila, but you know that I was only defending myself when
those natives were shot."

"I don't know anything about it," was the discouraging reply. "I've
heard you spoken of as a pirate for the past few days, and the members
of the crew all believe you to be one. If he orders them to shoot you,
they'll do it."

"Yes, I presume so," Ned said, soberly.

"What are you going to do about it?" asked the sailor, after a short
pause.

"The question," Ned replied, "is what are you going to do about it?"

"I couldn't do a thing if I tried," was the reply. "When Carstens hears
that the _Manhattan_ got away he will be red-headed, and will order the
trial to proceed at once. I'll see what I can do with some of the men I
know well, but the chances are that I'll only get myself into trouble
without doing you any good."

"All you can do," Ned said, "is to delay the trial, and the execution,
if it comes to that."

The officer who had made the arrest, after failing to seize the boat,
now approached the Lieutenant and said something to him in a low tone.

"What?" the latter almost screamed. "You let the boat get away?"

"They were too quick for us," was the reply.

"Too quick for you?" howled the Lieutenant. "Do you know what you've
done? You've ruined all my plans--the plans of the government.
Inefficiency is worse than open disobedience, and you may consider
yourself under arrest!"

The officer saluted and turned away, a scowl on his face.

"There is a likely man to talk with first," Ned suggested to the sailor.
"He will doubtless listen to you."

The Lieutenant now turned sharply toward the prisoners.

"What's going on there?" he demanded. "What are you talking to that
pirate for?" he added, approaching Ben threateningly.

"Trying to see what I could get out of him, sir," Ben replied, saluting.

"Well?"

"Not a thing!"

"Then cut it out," said the officer, moving away.

By this time the boxes were all out of the _Clara_, and the other vessel
was brought up to the Tusks. A great pile of boxes lay in the sandy
beach, and these the Lieutenant counted over for the second time. Then
he beckoned to a dignified looking native and went over the ranks of
boxes with him.

"Is it correct?" asked Carstens.

The other nodded and passed a slip of paper to the officer.

"Yokohama exchange," Ned heard him say.

"It must be that the native is paying for the guns," Ned said, and Ben,
looking half frightened, half angry, nodded his head.

The Lieutenant now turned to the unloading of the _Martha_, which was
now at the north Tusk. The hatches were soon lifted and the unloading of
the cargo began. It consisted principally of boxes and barrels.

"Ammunition," Ned whispered.

Again the sailor nodded.

"Nice old government officer he is!" Frank said, in a half whisper.

"He doesn't act like himself," Ben said, "not since he came out of the
cabin after being ill for a day and a night. And the boxes coming out of
the hold now do not look like the boxes that were put in it on the China
coast. I don't know what to make of it all."

During all this talk Ned had been listening intently for the shriek of a
rocket, casting his eyes up the mountain side in the hope of seeing the
green light of a signal reflected there. But no reports of rockets in
the sky had come to his ears, and there were no signal lights reflected
on the mountain.

The moon was well up in the heavens when the unloading of the _Martha_
was completed. Then the Lieutenant called the dignified native to his
side again, and once more the toll of the boxes was taken and a slip
passed over to the officer. This done, the men went back into the hold
again and began unloading small boxes, evidently containing tinned
provisions.

"There," whispered Ben, "those are the goods Lieutenant Carstens took on
board at the Chinese port."

"Then where were the guns and the ammunition taken on?" asked Ned.

"That is what gets me," was the reply.

"Tinned goods were also put into the _Clara_?" Ned asked.

"Yes; and they are going to take them out."

"Thought they'd get the guns out first," said Ned. "Don't you see," he
added, "that this man Carstens is a traitor! Can't you see that he is
turning guns, undoubtedly stolen from the government, over to the rebel
chiefs, and getting his pay for them?"

"It looks that way," was the slow reply, "but what am I to do about it?"

"Talk with some of the men," urged Ned. "If those arms are taken away
from this island by the natives they will be used to murder soldiers and
sailors."

"I know it," said the sailor, "but what can I do?"

"Go and talk to the officer he just ordered under arrest."

"And have him report the conversation in order to get back into the good
graces of the Lieutenant!" said Ben. "I'm not quite so green as that."

"What sort of a reputation does this man Carstens bear in army circles?"
asked Ned, presently, seeing that it was of no use to argue with the
sailor, who was afraid of being brought into trouble if he tried to aid
the boy.

"First-class," was the reply. "He is known as a brave and dependable
officer."

"And any action he might take here would be endorsed at Manila?"

"Yes; I think so."

"Then," Ned said, grimly, "if the _Manhattan_ doesn't get within
speaking distance of the gunboat very soon there will be a couple of
funerals on this island."

"I am afraid you are right," said Ben. "If I could do anything for you I
would, but--"

"Stop that clatter there!" shouted Carstens, pointing the end of his
pencil toward Ned. "Didn't I tell you to put a stick in his mouth if he
opened it again?"

Ben saluted and said that he was trying to get a confession out of the
prisoner, and the Lieutenant turned back to the work of tallying the
tinned goods. It was quite evident that he did not intend to leave that
important duty to any subordinate.

Ned knew that he was in the tightest hole his love for detective work
had ever fitted him into. He knew that the Lieutenant suspected him, and
would not hesitate to order him shot after a mock trial. He had little
doubt that the officer had, after his return from Yokohama, managed to
poison the minds of the officers at Manila against him. That was why, he
thought, he had been ordered by Major John Ross to remain at Manila
until instructions could be received from Washington.

He understood that Carstens might murder him there at will and so close
his mouth forever. After the murder there would be no one to tell of the
secret meetings on the islands where the rebel chiefs were assembled, no
one to tell of the murder of Brown at the Yokohama tea house, no one to
tell of the arms unloaded there and turned over to the Filipinos--unless
the sailors should take it into their heads to investigate the long
boxes and take their lives in their hands by reporting their
discoveries.

Lieutenant Carstens certainly had everything to his taste there, and Ned
was of the opinion that he would not be very long in exercising his
authority to the limit. While the boy was thinking over the situation,
trying to find some way out of the peril he was in, a sleepy-looking
young man came out of the cabin of the _Clara_ and stepped ashore. He
was neatly dressed, with a handsome face and alert figure. Lieutenant
Carstens bowed to him as he approached the place where he stood and
pointed to the prisoners.

"Do you know who that is?" whispered Ned to the sailor.

"No," was the reply, "except that he is the son of a prominent
politician in the United States."

Ned did not need to ask another question then. Jimmie had described the
senator's son, and Ned knew that the young man who had held possession
of the treaty box was there, in conference with the Lieutenant.

"I guess," the boy mused, "they've got the top hand. The Lieutenant has
his military authority, and also has the senator's son here to swear to
anything he asks him to!"

"You should have made a getaway in the _Manhattan_," Ben said, in a
moment.

"Then I wouldn't have seen the unloading of the arms," Ned answered.

Ben arose and stood yawning by the side of his prisoner. The Lieutenant
and the senator's son approached and stood for a moment looking down on
the two captives.

"Why not call the drum-head now?" asked the senator's son. "It will help
to pass a couple of hours which might otherwise be dull."

"Call it, then," said the officer. "The sooner it is over the better."

Ned looked up to the mountain as one looks to a friend for assistance
and cheer when things are going hard, and the mountain did not
disappoint him. For there, high up, was the green light of a distant
rocket.

The _Manhattan_ had found the gunboat and was using the signals.

CHAPTER XVIII.

THE MAN BEHIND THE DOOR.

It was a second later that the puff of the exploding rocket reached the
ears of those gathered about the boxes on the island, for sound does not
travel as rapidly as light. When it came, Lieutenant Carstens made a
dash for the side of the mountain and began the ascent. After ten
anxious minutes he was back again with a malevolent grin on his face.

"The gunboat has captured the _Manhattan_," he said, facing Ned.

Ned made no reply, for he was not a little puzzled at the remark. It
indicated that the speaker believed that he had as complete control over
the actions of those on the gunboat as he had over the conduct of those
on board the _Clara_ and the _Martha_. If this was true, there was
nothing more to hope for. The gunboat would bring Pat, Jack, and Jimmie
back as prisoners, and the drum-head would deal with five prisoners
instead of two.

The Lieutenant now dispatched a man to the shelf of rock on the mountain
which Ned had previously occupied, instructing him to report the
progress of the gunboat, supposed to be bringing in her prize. From time
to time the watchman called out that the two boats were rapidly nearing
the harbor, and Ned listened to the reports with varying emotions. Now
he was certain that the officer in charge of the gunboat would
understand the situation; now he was almost sure that the officer and
Carstens had had an understanding with each other from the first.

Two chiefs, evidently men of distinction among the native tribes, now
approached the Lieutenant and spoke to him in Spanish. After replying
Carstens turned to the son of the senator.

"Clem," he said, "perhaps you would better bring the box from the cabin.
These men are satisfied with the goods they have received, and are ready
to sign."

And so the treaty was to be executed there--after the receipt of
sufficient arms and ammunition to make the revolt against the government
formidable. Ned saw the craft with which the game had been played, and
wondered if the officer who was coming on the gunboat could be induced
to make an examination of the boxes on the beach and the box about to be
brought from the cabin.

If he could, that would end the trouble so far as Ned and his companions
were involved in it. If he stood hand-in-glove with Carstens, however,
he would pretend to doubt the statements offered by the prisoners and
refuse to make any investigation at all. In this case, there was likely
to be murder done before morning.

"Gunboat rounding the point!" called the lookout.

The critical moment was near at hand, and Frank and Ned looked into each
other's faces with apprehension in their eyes. Still, there was no
weakening, no outward sign of the mental commotion within.

Presently the gunboat rounded the point to the north and slid into the
harbor between the Tusks, followed closely by the _Manhattan_. Ned saw
that the boys were still on the _Manhattan_, but that two men in uniform
were there with them. It looked to him as if the lads had been placed
under arrest, for they did not appear as jubilant as they would
doubtless have looked if their story had been taken at its full face
value.

Lieutenant Carstens appeared to be astonished and decidedly out of
temper when the commander of the gunboat stepped out on the north Tusk.
He was nervous, too, and cursed roundly at one of the men who crossed
his path as he advanced to meet the officer. The three boys, who did not
now act like prisoners, flocked off the _Manhattan_ and gathered around
Ned and Frank. Their faces, however, still showed anxiety rather than
joy at the success of their efforts to bring the gunboat to the island.

"I presume you have your instructions regarding the _Manhattan_ and her
crew?" Lieutenant Carstens said, after the formalities had been gone
through with.

"I understand that the boys took the boat out without permission," was
the reply. "I am ordered to return her to Manila and to place the boys
under arrest."

This was encouraging, for Ned knew that they would be safer under the
guard of the captain of the gunboat than that of Carstens. Everything
could be explained if they were taken back to Manila, and not shot like
dogs, without a trial.

"Since leaving Manila," Carstens went on, "they have attacked several
native settlements and murdered several persons. I already have them
under arrest for piracy."

"What is the proposition?" asked the other.

"In my judgment they should be tried here, and, if convicted, executed
at the scene of their latest crime."

"I protest against that," said the other.

"See here, Curtis," Carstens said, roughly, "these fellows are my
prisoners, and I am here with special orders. That will be all."

"Hardly all," was the cool reply, "for I have my gunboat in the harbor."

Encouraged by this statement, Ned stepped forward and raised his bound
hands.

"May I speak a word?" he asked.

"Certainly not!" said Carstens.

"Go ahead!" the captain of the gunboat, Frederick Curtis, said.
"George," he added, addressing an officer, "go to the boat and train her
guns on this delightful party."

Carstens turned deadly pale but smiled, and saluted.

"I'm sure you will do nothing rash," he said.

"I shall not overstep my instructions," was the reply. "What have you to
say?" he continued, facing Ned.

"I want a few words with you in private," was the reply.

"I protest!" shouted the Lieutenant.

"Best speak here," was the decision of the captain.

At this moment the senator's son made his appearance on the Tusk with a
steel box under his arm. He advanced quickly to the group and passed the
box to Lieutenant Carstens.

"First," Ned began, "I ask you, Captain Curtis, to take charge of the
box just given to Lieutenant Carstens."

Captain Curtis extended his hand for the box, but the Lieutenant drew
back.

"This is unusual," the lieutenant said, "irregular and discourteous."

"I waive the point for the present," Captain Curtis said, "but I insist
that the box shall not leave your hands until it passes into mine."

"Next," Ned went on, encouraged by the words and manner of Captain
Curtis, "I want you to have the cabin of the _Clara_ searched."

Lieutenant Carstens approached the speaker in a threatening manner, but
Curtis stepped in front of him.

"Why shouldn't the cabin of the _Clara_ be searched?" the latter
demanded.

"You shall pay for this indignity!" Carstens roared, turning away from
the group, with the box still under his arm. Ned pointed to the box, and
Captain Curtis stopped him.

"I want that box," he said, calmly.

Lieutenant Carstens hastened his steps and lifted the steel box in his
hands, as if about to toss it into the sea. Before he could execute his
purpose, however, the box was seized by the Captain.

"If you wish to assist in the search of the cabin," Captain Curtis said,
"we will go there together. Come along, Nestor," he added, turning to
Ned and cutting the cord which held his wrists. "You suggested the move,
and you shall see what is discovered in the search."

The Lieutenant moved along with the others, but paused at the head of
the stairway leading down into the little stern cabin.

"I protest against this!" he roared, his face bloodless with passion or
fright.

"By the way," Captain Curtis said, lifting the steel box high in the
air, "this appears to be quite heavy. Suppose we open it here?"

"There is no key," Carstens replied.

Ned held up the odd-shaped key he had found on the island first visited.

"I think I can open it," he said, "but you'll find that Carstens has a
key if you'll take a look through his clothes."

"Will you surrender the key?" asked Captain Curtis of the Lieutenant.

"The boy lies!" thundered Carstens. "I have no key."

"What does the box contain?" asked the Captain.

"I don't exactly know," Ned replied, "but it is my opinion that it
contains a treaty pledging certain tribes to unite in rebellion against
the United States provided they are supplied with guns and ammunition."

"Your opinion is of little account!" gritted the Lieutenant.

"And I believe," Ned went on, "that other papers are in the box--papers
giving a history of the plot, also papers stolen from the government.
Anyway, if you say so, Captain, I'll open the box with my key and we'll
soon find out."

"Perhaps we would better retire to the cabin," suggested Captain Curtis,
noting the curious faces gathering about. "We can settle the whole
matter there."

Lieutenant Carstens would not have entered the cabin if one of the
officers of the gunboat had not crowded him down the stairway.

"This is an outrage!" he shouted.

The senator's son now came hastily down the steps, his face red with
rage, his fingers working convulsively, as if already playing about the
throat of an enemy.

"That box is mine!" he cried. "I demand that it be returned to me
unopened. I am the son of a United States senator."

"If what I suspect is true," Ned said, "you will need all the political
pull a member of the senate has in order to keep yourself out of the
penitentiary."

"Put that boy out of this cabin!" snarled the young man. "This is my
private room. I paid for its use during the cruise."

Ned whispered a few words to the Captain, and the latter turned with a
smile to a door opening at the rear of the little room where the excited
group stood.

"Well," he said, "there is a question here as to whether the box
contains any treasonable documents. If the box belongs to you, open it
and we'll see if the charge is true or false. If it is false the box
shall be returned to you."

"I have lost my key," was the reply.

"How long ago?" asked Ned.

The young man turned a supercilious face on the boy, but answered:

"Several days ago. What is it to you?"

"Where were you when you first missed it?" Ned persisted.

"That does not concern you," was the reply.

"If you lost it in Captain Godwin's station," Ned said, with a smile, "I
presume I have it."

He held up the key he had found on the river bank, among the bushes, on
the morning following the abduction of Lieutenant Rowe, and the other
lunged for it.

"Never mind!" Ned laughed, dodging away, "I don't care to part with the
key just now. After the investigation of the box is over you may have
it."

"Unlock the box," ordered the Captain.

Ned stepped forward with his key, but was brought to a stop by a beating
on the door of the rear cabin.

"I forgot," the boy said, "and the man in there doubtless desires his
liberty. If some of you will unlock the door you will find the man the
government sent away in charge of this expedition."

"What do you mean?" asked the Captain, while Carstens sank back in his
chair with a groan.

"I think," Ned replied, "that you will find the real Lieutenant Carstens
on the other side of that door."

CHAPTER XIX.

BOY SCOUTS UNEARTH PLOT.

The door was opened instantly, and a man in the uniform of a lieutenant
in the United States Navy, stepped forth. He was pale and haggard, and
there was a bandage about his head, but his eyes were clear and bright.
Even in his emaciated condition his resemblance to the man crouching in
his chair was striking.

There was a silence in the cabin for an instant as the man stepped
forth. Surprise was depicted on every face except those of Ned and
Captain Curtis.

"You see I was right," Ned said.

"You are Lieutenant Carstens?" asked the Captain.

"I am," was the slow reply, "and I ask that the traitor cowering in the
chair be placed under arrest."

"That has already been done," the Captain said. "How long have you been
confined in the cabin?"

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