Boy Scouts in the Philippines

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

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"They can make about fifteen miles an hour," was the reply. "What can
you make?"

"Rather more than that, under pressure," was the reply.

French sat easily on the bridge deck as the _Manhattan_ glided away. He
appeared to be as thoroughly satisfied with the situation as when he was
the captor instead of the captive. When Frank related the story of the
night, in his presence, he laughed and asked for the wigwag code which
Frank had used.

"So that is the meeting of the chiefs?" Ned asked. "They are there to
sign the treaty of rebellion?"

"Something of the sort," was the reply. "At least, they were there to
pass upon the treaty. Now, they'll duck. That is, they will if you boys
succeed in getting away from them."

"Do you know where they will go?" asked Ned.

"Look here," French said, "I'm not in a position to tell you anything
about what they may or may not do. I rather like you boys, and I'd tell
you all I know if I could do so decently. But I can't. To be frank with
you, I'm wishing you'll outrun the boats that will come after you. I
have had my pay for what I've done for the rebels, and the money is
buried with a friend at Hong Kong. I don't care about meeting them
again, to tell you the truth, and this being captured is an easy way out
of it. Now, I'll give you my parole not to try to get away, not to try
any tricks, if you let me walk about as I please."

"He's all right!" Jack put in. "He's a good fellow, all right. I vote
that we give him his freedom."

"Here, too!" cried Frank.

"But I don't want my freedom!" French said. "At least not until you can
land me where these pirate chiefs can't get hold of me. I imagine they
would blame me for the trouble they're in."

"They are meeting to sign the treaty of rebellion," Ned said. "Now,
perhaps you can tell me when the war is to begin?"

"Right away."

"Who drew the treaty?" asked the boy.

"Some chap high up!" laughed French.

"And who has possession of it?"

"There are two keys to the box. One is held by the author of the
treaty."

"And the other?" asked Ned with a knowing smile.

"By the American in charge of the party on the island," answered French.
"Let me tell you this, though," he added, "you'll never see the treaty,
even if you win. Also, you'll never know the name of the author of it,
or the name of the man who has the second key to the treaty box. You've
found out something about the conspiracy against the government, but
you'll never know who organized it, or why!"

CHAPTER X.

A HOT NIGHT IN YOKOHAMA.

Ned Nestor stood on the deck of the steamship, and the steamship was
entering the harbor of Yokohama, which opens from Tokyo bay, the bay
from the Sagani Sea, the sea from the Pacific ocean. In the cabin of the
steamship were Frank Shaw, Jack Bosworth and Jimmie McGraw. While Ned
looked over the city they were approaching the three boys came to his
side.

None of them had ever looked upon a Japanese city before. The scene
before them was one well calculated to excite their interest and appeal
to their imagination. The fishing junks sailing over the glassy waters
of the bay did not seem at all like any fishing boats they had ever seen
before.

The colored wooden roofs of the town seemed to have been cut out from a
picture book of fairy tales. The narrow streets in sight from the deck
seemed steep and not too straight. The buildings seemed to lap over on
each other. To the west, standing straight up in the sky, as it seemed,
loomed the pile of Oyama mountain. To the north showed the roofs of
Kanagawa.

Night fell while they gazed at the unfamiliar scene, and the lanterns on
the sampans, bound for the customs _hatoba_, glistened over the bay like
fireflies. The shampooer's whistles drifted out on the offshore breeze.

"Doesn't look much like coming into little old New York!" Frank
exclaimed.

"Queer lookin' country!" Jimmie added.

"I'd rather be back in the _Manhattan_, among the islands north of
Luzon," Jack observed. "I don't like this smell of the Orient they talk
so much about."

"Not much Orient about this!" Ned said.

"I hope we'll get out of it before long," Jack went on. "I'm hungry for
the wash of the China Sea."

"We'll have a little China Sea made for you, an' tuck it away in Central
Park," Jimmie laughed.

"All right!" replied Jack. "I wonder why some one didn't think of that
before! Fine scheme!"

On leaving the bay where such an eventful night had been passed, the
boys had driven the _Manhattan_ at full speed directly to Manila. The
boat was rather small for such a trip, but it had behaved nobly, and the
lads had enjoyed the trip immensely.

They had for a time been pursued by the launches which had anchored on
the opposite side of the little island, but the chase had soon been
abandoned, as the _Manhattan_ was the fastest boat of the three.

On the way to Manila, Ned had held several long conversations with
French, but had gained little information from him. He corroborated what
little was known regarding the conspiracy for the establishing of a
native government on the Philippines, but would not reveal what he knew
of the interests interested or of the men at the head of the movement.

At Manila, French had been released on parole at the urgent request of
Frank and Jack, who had formed a liking for the courteous gentleman who
had treated them so kindly during the few hours he had been their
jailer. French, however, had promised to remain at Manila and to report
daily at military headquarters.

"I don't understand what his share in the plot is, or has been," Ned had
explained, "but it is evident that he will be needed only as a witness."

At Manila Ned had held a long conference with Major John Ross, and that
gentleman had seemed overjoyed at the report the boy had presented,
especially as it made his return to the group of islands to the north
unnecessary. After remaining in Manila one day and a night, Ned had been
directed to continue his investigation of the case in his own way.

To tell the truth, Major John Ross and the military men with whom Ned
conferred at Manila treated the employment of the boy by the authorities
at Washington as a good deal of a joke, as a whim. They were not
discourteous to Ned, but they took no interest in his suggestions. For
some hours after his departure, his employment on the case was the
subject of many sarcastic remarks.

However, those in charge had consented to hold the _Manhattan_ subject
to his orders, and had promised to give any communications received from
him due attention. And this was the situation when the boy, following
clues secured at the nipa hut and hints obtained from Pat, who had kept
his ears open during his captivity, and from French, had sailed away for
Japan with his chums on a steamer which was leaving Manila for Yokohama.
Pat Mack, released from service by the effort of Major Ross, at his own
request, had been left at Manila in charge of the _Manhattan_.

The boys landed shortly after dark and proceeded to a hotel where the
English language or something like it was spoken. Everything was new and
strange, the place being as unlike a Broadway hotel as it is possible to
imagine. However, the meals were served in half-American fashion, and
the rooms were tolerably comfortable.

"Now," Ned said, after their first meal in Yokohama was over, "we did
not come here to visit the palaces of the wealthy, or to inspect the
United States consulate. We've got to get down into the slums a bit if
we find what I want. The man who led the party that captured Lieutenant
Rowe was sent away as soon as he got to his masters. You doubtless
understand why. They did not want him implicated in the plot."

"How do you know?" asked Jimmie. "You didn't see him go, did you?"

"Then he must be up some," Jack said.

"And he left Manila on a boat bound for Yokohama," Frank added. "I know
about that, for French gave me a valuable tip. And he was accompanied by
an American sailor with a thirst for strong drink."

"I guess you've got the idea, all right," Ned said, with a smile. "But I
did not state the case exactly as it is. I said that the man who led the
party against Lieutenant Rowe was sent away. I should have said that the
man suspected of having been at the head of that expedition had
mysteriously disappeared from Manila on the very day of his return there
after an absence unaccounted for, and that it was believed he had taken
a steamer for Yokohama. I stated my conclusions as facts."

"And there was an American sailor with him," insisted Frank.

"Yes, an, American sailor who evidently knew too much. At least, that is
the way I figure it out. Now, we are not looking for this high-brow at
this time, but for the American sailor."

"That makes it all the pleasanter!" Jack said. "We'll have a chance to
see life in Japan as it is. I'd feel better about this little outing,
though, if I knew just what has become of Lieutenant Rowe."

"I often wish we had tried to release him," Ned replied, "but we were
lucky to get off with whole hides. Anyway, Pat says they were to release
him in a short time, after the plot is perfected. All they wanted was
his dispatches, and they will hold him captive only because his release
might lead to the premature discovery of the meeting of chiefs on the
island."

"Well, let us get busy with the underworld of Japan," Jack said. "I'll
bet we find plenty of American sailors with thirsts."

On a dark night in Yokohama the houses in the section visited by the
boys look very much alike. They are drygoods box affairs, two stories
high, with peaked roofs, paper walls and narrow piazzas. All the shops
are looking for the American sailor.

Ned secured an interpreter, and the boys strolled through a dozen or
more cheap joints before they came to a halt and sat down. The places
were all alike. There was split matting on the floors, always, and
sailors drinking at little tables. There was always a fair grade of tea,
always _sake_, always a wheezy graphophone.

One might also buy whiskey, ale and other intoxicating drinks. And there
were also the _geisha_ dances and the _nesans_ running up stairs and
down with their little white socks and flowery skirts, carrying
refreshments. There were also men in _kimonos_ and cowboy hats, the
former to give the Japanese color and the latter to inform customers
that the American trade was catered to!

"How you goin' to know this American sailor when you find him?" asked
Jimmie, as the boys sat with steaming cups of tea before them.

"I have his photograph," laughed Ned.

"Let's see it!" cried Jack.

"I'll bet it's a mental photograph!" Jimmie went on. "That is the only
kind Ned carries."

"What does he look like?" asked Frank.

"Yes; tell us. We may see him first!" urged Jimmie.

"He's short, and very broad across the shoulders, with one shoulder
lower than the other. He is quite bald, and there is a cicatrice on his
left cheek where a Malay cut him. There is a squint in one of his eyes,
and there is a scar along the ball of his right thumb."

"Quit your kiddin'!" said Jimmie. "You never saw him."

"Pat saw him," was the reply, "and French and some of the military
people at Manila saw him. He left with the man whose acquaintance I want
to make, or just before him."

"Seems like looking for a needle in a haymow," Frank said, "but I'll
wager my hat against a swipe in the jaw that we find him."

"'We!'" repeated Jimmie, with due scorn.

"For instance," Frank said, "what do you think of the fellow over there
talking with the man in the _kimono_ and the derby hat of the vintage of
1880?"

"He's short and broad, and one of his shoulders is higher than the
other," Jimmie replied.

"Don't attract his attention," Ned warned. "He sat there when we came
in, and does not seem to notice us."

"You goin' to geezle him?" asked Jimmie.

"If he were in Manila I certainly should," was the answer, "but it would
never answer here. Look!" the lad added. "He seems to be having trouble
with one of the waiters."

"He's gone broke, I guess," Jimmie said, "an' there's a kick on his
bill."

"An American friend would look pretty good to him now," Ned said
thoughtfully.

There was in the mind of the boy a thought that circumstances were
favoring him. If he could only befriend the man!

"You don't suppose the fellow he came here with left him in the lurch,
do you?" asked Jimmie, something like Ned's thought coming to him. "If
he did, why--"

"That's what I've been thinking," Ned replied, "Anyway, I'm going over
there and have a talk with him."

"Before you blow yourself on him," laughed Jimmie, "look at the ball of
his right thumb an' see if there's a scar there!"

"If he's a sailorman from New York," Jack put in, "he'll eat corn out of
your hand, like a billy goat! Go on and talk with him, Ned."

Ned arose to his feet and moved toward the table where the sailor sat.
Then he turned back to the boys again.

"If I go away with him," he said, "don't attempt to follow us. Go back
to the hotel and wait for me. You understand, now, Jimmie? No chasing
out after me! This is not New York!"

"I'll be good!" replied the boy, with a wink at Jack.

"You bet you will!" replied Jack, seizing him by the sleeve. "You don't
get away from me to-night. Too much trouble looking you up!"

"What are we to do with that blooming interpreter?" asked Frank,
motioning to the Jap, who sat a short distance away, where he could not
overhear the talk.

"Take him back to the hotel with you," was the reply, "and hold him
there until I come."

There was no little excitement around the table where the sailor sat
when Ned approached it. The sailor was talking in English, the waiter
was talking in his native tongue, and the bystanders were trying to tell
each one what the other was saying.

Ned made out from the pigeon English brought forth by the bystanders
that the sailor had run up a large bill and was unable to pay it.

"P'lice come!" one of the officious ones said.

The sailor heard the words and stirred uneasily in his seat. After
wiggling about for a moment he removed his cap and scratched a bald head
thoughtfully. Ned advanced to his side and laid a hand on his arm,
whereat the sailor squirmed as if he anticipated immediate arrest.

"What's the trouble, pard?" the boy asked.

The sailor sat back in his chair and regarded Ned with evident suspicion
for a moment, then, observing that his interrogator was only a boy, he
extended his hand, his bleary eyes showing the pleasure he felt at the
meeting.

"You look mighty good to me!" he said, in the tone and manner of a man
who had had educational advantages.

"What's the difficulty?" repeated Ned, taking the hard hand of the
other. "I saw the commotion here and thought you might be in trouble.
You're an American, I take it?"

"Proud to say yes to that!" replied the other.

"Well, what are they trying to do to you?" asked Ned, taking a chair by
his side. "Americans must stand back to back when they meet in a place
like this!"

"They don't all do that," was the reply. "My pardner got me here and
shook me. I'm broke, and that's all there is to it. Kept buying after I
had spent all my money. I guess it is the coop for mine!"

"Perhaps we can fix it up in some way," Ned said. "I'm not a
millionaire, but I may be able to help you out. How much do you owe?"

"About two dollars in American money," was the reply. "It is a small
sum, but I'm your slave for life if you get me out of this. Ever spend a
day in a Japanese jail, waiting for the American consul to get you out?"

"Never did," was the reply. "How are you fixed for lodgings?"

"Got a room up over a tea house," was the reply. "I'm looking for a ship
that will take me back to New York."

"Well," Ned said, "I'll pay this bill and go home with you for the
night. I'll need free lodgings somewhere after I settle!"

"You'll be as welcome as the flowers of May!" the sailor said, and the
boys, still sitting where Ned had left them, saw him hand the waiter
some money and leave the place with the sailor.

A moment later, however, they saw a keen-eyed Jap come rushing through
the door and up to the table where the sailor had been seated. He talked
with the waiter a moment, speaking angrily at last, and darted out of
the door again.

"That fellow came after the sailor," Frank said, "and will follow him.
When he finds Ned working him for his story he won't do a thing to Ned!"

"An' we'll go back to the hotel, like good little boys, an' sit there
knittin' while they pinch Ned an' chuck him into the bay! Not for your
uncle!"

"We'd make a hit wandering about Yokohama in the night!" Jack said. "I
reckon Ned can take care of himself. Anyway, he's had to go and find you
every time you've gone out without him."

But before Jack had finished Jimmie had jerked away and was out in the
street.

CHAPTER XI.

A FAIRY HISTORY OF JAPAN.

The shop in which Ned had discovered the object of his search was well
down toward the water front, and the course of the sailor was now toward
the center of the city. The two passed the customs quarters and the
official offices of the city--Yokohama is the old-time treaty port of
Japan--and so on to wide streets lined with shops, still alight, though
the hour was getting late.

Such quaint little shops Ned had never seen before, and more than once
he stopped to look at lacquered ware of rare quality, bronze work, and
fancy embroidery. Directly the sailor led the way from the wide streets
to the old-time narrow ones in the native quarter, which were not far
from the old canal which virtually makes an island of the town.

After proceeding, with hesitating steps, down a particularly dark and
foul-smelling street, the sailor paused at a corner, glanced up at a
window in a tea-chest of a house which stood flush with the alley-like
thoroughfare, and began the ascent of a flight of stairs which swayed
under his weight.

On the corner below the tea-house was still open, and the invariable
graphophone was grinding out some indistinguishable tune. When the two
passed up the dark stairway an attendant slipped out of the public room,
walked to the foot of the stairs, and observed the two mounting figures.
When the sailor opened the door to as miserable a room as the sun of the
Orient ever shone on, the attendant slipped back to the public room and
conferred with a keen-eyed, slender man who sat there--a man garbed in
the native costume, but bearing in manner and face the stamp of a
European!

The sailor closed the door of his room and set a match to a candle which
he found on a shelf hanging to a wall. There was nothing in the room,
nothing but mats, as it seemed to Ned. There was no table, no chair.
Only the mats to sit on and sleep on. The walls were of paper, and Ned
saw with pleasure that the whole front of the room, which faced the
alley, might be rolled up at will!

The sailor dropped on the floor and fumbled in his clothing for a
cigarette.

"Have you got the makings?" he asked, giving up the search at last.

Ned shook his head.

"I have need of all my wits," he said, "and never befuddle my brain with
tobacco. It's the curse of the age."

"I've got to have a cigarette," the sailor said. "I'll go crazy if I
don't have one! I won't sleep a wink, either!" he whined.

Ned handed him a dime and pointed to the door.

"Go and buy some," he said, knowing that the fellow would be in fighting
mood if he was not supplied with the narcotic. "Come back here and
smoke."

The sailor looked at the dime sorrowfully, scorning the small piece of
silver because it wasn't a dollar, as Ned concluded--pitying himself,
too, because it would not buy what he wanted most--liquor!

Ned handed him a quarter and bade him hasten back. With the man's nerves
crying out for accustomed stimulants, the boy knew that he could do
nothing with him. He must get him into a companionable mood if possible.
He dreaded the night, which seemed about to be passed in the fumes of
tobacco and liquor, but there was no help for it that he could see.

Presently the sailor came back with a package of cigarettes, gin in a
bottle, and a jug of water. He arranged the articles in a half-circle
about him when he sat down on a mat. It seemed pitiful to the boy, the
sailor's dependence on the nerve-destroying things he looked upon as
necessary to his comfort. Only for these, only for their constant use
for years, the man might have been honored and respected and possessed a
home among his kind instead of being an object of contempt in a foreign
port.

"Here's to the Flowery Kingdom!" the sailor said, the bottle at his
lips. "Here's life to you, not existence! What's your name?" he added,
stopping in the midst of a grin which wrinkled his dissipated face
horribly to cast a glance of suspicion on the boy sitting in pity before
him. "My name," he added, without waiting for Ned to reply to his
question, "is Brown--B-R-O-W-N."

"Glad to make your acquaintance, Mr. Brown," Ned said. "One is always
glad to meet Americans in a place like this. Now," he went on, resolved
to have his talk out before the sailor became too befuddled to talk
coherently, "you spoke about wanting to get back to New York. Well, the
_Fultonia_ leaves for New York by way of Manila, to-morrow afternoon,
and I may be able to arrange a passage for you. I'm a friend of the
captain's."

"Not on your life! Not by way of Manila!" the sailor cried. "I wouldn't
go back to Manila for all the gold there is in Standard Oil! I'm going
to lose myself on a wind-jammer! Manila's unhealthy for me!" he added
with a wink.

"I wasn't thinking of remaining there," said Ned. "I'm going back to New
York."

"Wind-jammer for mine!" Brown insisted. "Why," he added, swinging his
bottle of gin in the air, "do you know that I'd like to get inside a
boat with wide white wings and sail about the Orient forever! The more I
mix with Englishmen and Americans the more I think of the Japs. It was
an American that threw me down to-night. I did something for him, and--"

The sailor paused, gave a slight shiver, and looked down at his right
hand. Then he brushed it, as if trying to wipe something away that was
obstinate and hard to get rid of--some stain like the stain of blood!

"And he left you stranded?" Ned continued "I'm glad I happened along,"
he added, not caring to say how glad he was, nor how much the meeting
might mean to him!

"I did his dirty work!" the sailor went on, his tongue loosened by the
liquor. "I did for him what I never did before, what I never will do
again! And he went back on me! He threw me down! I'd like to meet him on
Roosevelt street, New York! I'd provide against his throwing anyone else
down!"

"What did you do for him?" Ned asked, with as innocent a manner as he
could assume.

"That's my business!" Brown answered, with a sly wink. "That's between
the two of us! If I had him here I'd cut his heart out, and show you how
black it is."

The sailor was fast coming under the influence of the gin, and Ned knew
that he must keep him talking or he would drop off into drugged slumber.
He sounded him on half a dozen subjects, intending to lead him back to
the man's connection with the plot, but he would not talk until the
subject of Japan was brought up. He seemed to be infatuated with the
Flowery Kingdom.

"I know the history of Japan," he said, with a brightening of the eyes.
"In the beginning, the world was like an egg in shape. The white became
heaven, and the yolk became earth. You may read about it yourself in the
book called "_The Way of the Gods_." Then two Gods descended from
heaven, and a son called Omikami was born to them, and his body was so
bright that he flew up into the sky and became the sun.

"What do you think of that? He became the sun. And a daughter was born
to the two Gods, and she became the moon. The moon you see when the sun
goes down. Then the children that were born after these became strong
and founded the Empire of Japan. And the original inhabitants were hairy
on the body and ate raw meat. You see I know all about it!"

"And Japan may in time acquire all Asia," Ned said, desiring to lead the
sailor back to within reaching distance of the subject he was most
interested in. "In time the Philippines may belong to Japan."

The sailor winked at Ned mysteriously and flourished his bottle of gin.

"I know!" he cried. "I know! If Japan gets the Philippines she'll have
to fight a thousand tribes and the monkeys in the trees! She'll have to
fight also the crocodiles in the brooks. 'I could a tale unfold whose
lightest word would harrow up thy soul--cause thy two eyes, like stars,
to start from their spheres, and thy--.' Say," he said with a laugh,
"what do you think of me anyway? You think I've got a jag on, don't you.
Never was soberer in my innocent life!"

"If you'll describe this man that threw you down," Ned said, anxious to
have done with the by-play, "and tell me where to look for him, I'll go
and see what I can do for you. How much was he to give you?"

"Barrels!"

The sailor paused and stretched his hands above his head, the bottle
glistening in one of them. "He was to pile the greenbacks up so
high--for me to wade in, and wipe my feet on. You can't find him."

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