Boy Scouts in the Philippines

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

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

There was a stealthy movement on the stairs, and a movement not so
stealthy at the door. Ned heard a hand moving over the bamboo, and made
ready for a spring. He had no idea who the visitor might be, but his
manner of approach showed him to be no friend of the sailor's.

There were no more sounds at the door, and Ned glanced casually in that
direction. The candle on the wobbling shelf gave forth little light, and
that seemed to grow more shadows than rays of illumination. The shadows
seemed deepest and most uncertain of form at the door, but, at the
center of the odd-shape panel in the middle of the door he thought he
saw a malevolent eye looking forth into the room.

He wondered if an eye was really there, or if, his imagination stirred
by the weird scene and the fairy history of Japan which the sailor had
repeated, he was seeing things not present to the senses!

In a moment there was no doubt, for the malevolent eye left the aperture
and there was again a fumbling at the door. Ned made no motion, but sat
as if unconscious of any intruder being there. He knew that the person
at the door was there to watch the sailor, to see that he did not talk
too much, to see that he did not leave Yokohama until the trap of
treason had been fully set and baited.

There was no doubt in the mind of the boy now that he had found the man
he had set out in quest of. Of course the man who had planned the
conspiracy, who was doubtless assisting the tribes to arms and
ammunition by way of the unpatrolled China Sea, was the one he aimed to
reach in time. The sailor was only a link in the chain which led to the
object sought.

The mind of the boy was not at that time much concerned with thoughts
for his own safety although he could never be in more deadly peril than
he was at that moment when he was looked at through the opening in the
door. His one idea was to get a view of the spy, and with this object in
view he arose and stepped toward the door.

"You're getting sleepy," he said to the sailor, "and I'll go out and get
a little fresh air while you sleep. I shall not be far away."

"You're a good fellow," Brown cried, already half asleep. "When I get
out of this I'll tell you something that'll make your fortune. Bring
back another bottle of gin. Thish mos' gone!"

Ned stood by the door for a moment in order to give the spy time to get
back to the bottom of the stairs. He could see no profit in a struggle
in that place, and there was certain to be one if he permitted the spy
to know that his movements had been observed.

Finally he heard soft footsteps on the stairs. He waited only an instant
after this before passing out into the narrow hall. The staircase was
clear, but a door opening into it from the public room below was open
and a broad zone of light lay on the floor of the passage and on the
wall.

Ned stood in the doorway and looked out on the street, now and then
turning his eyes in the direction of the public room. At a table well
toward the back end of the place he saw the man he was looking for. He
was seated at a table with two men who appeared to be American sailors.
While he stood there, wondering at the inefficiency of the disguise the
man wore, at the nerve which prompted him to wear that fragment of
native costume when his face, manner and accent bespoke the cultured
American another sailor came swaggering into the place.

This sailor was unquestionably intoxicated. He swayed back and forth as
he walked, and would have fallen to the floor at the very door only for
the restraining hand of a boy who accompanied him. Immediately on his
appearance waiters rushed forward to attend to his wants, to give him a
chair and a table, and to pay him all sorts of little attentions.

In such places in all foreign ports the American sailor is the easy
mark. He drinks--when he drinks at all--until he is past all wisdom
regarding the expenditure of money, with the result that he literally
throws it away. In the appearance of this sailor the attendants saw a
rich harvest, not only for the place but for themselves.

But Ned saw more than this. He saw the freckled face and sparkling eyes
of Jimmie McGraw, steering the drunken sailor to the table pointed out
for him. The boy was in high humor, for he joked with the blundering
sailor, and instead of sitting down at the table--brought into use there
because the foreigners insist on not drinking sitting on the floor--he
sat down on it and swung his feet downward.

"Look at the kid!" one of the men at the table Ned was watching said.
"Looks like he was on South Clark street, Chicago."

"Don't get gay, now!" Jimmie retorted. "I'm playin' I'm a tug towin'
this 'ere sailorman to bed."

"You've got a job on your hands," the other said, and then the three at
the table bent their heads forward and talked in whispers. Now and then
they faced toward the doorway, but Ned was then too far toward the
street for them to observe him.

They did not seem at all suspicious of Jimmie, and Ned concluded that
such occurrences were not uncommon there. Jimmie seated his companion
more firmly in his chair in a moment and passed out, stopping at the
doorway where Ned stood.

"You duck!" the boy said. "That man in there with the sailors followed
you here, an' I followed him here. You duck!"

"I haven't got the information I'm after yet," Ned said. "How in the
world did you get here?"

"Followed the chap that followed you," was the quick reply. "Out here I
come upon that beery sailor and took him in tow!"

"Good idea," Ned said. "Now, you slip past me and go up stairs, to the
room in front, and see if the man there can be gotten away. I want to
size up the men in there. I can see them by poking my head out
occasionally, but they can't see me."

"Well, you keep your gun ready," Jimmie warned. "This ain't New York,
with a cop every half block an' a taxicab always within reach. This is
Yokohama! Don't you forget that!"

"Don't remain up there long!" said Ned.

Jimmie hastened away, and Ned stood leaning against the casing of the
doorway. Then Jimmie came down the stairs at a jump, making no pretense
of secrecy, and behind him there was a rush of feet and a jumble of
foreign words.

The three men Ned had been watching sprang up from their table and
dashed toward the front of the place, and all was confusion in an
instant. The sailor who had come in with Jimmie attempted to lean
carelessly back in his chair and toppled over on the floor, where he lay
with the slippered feet of the attendants striking him in their rush for
the door.

"Run!" Jimmie cried as he approached Ned. "Hot foot! The man you sent me
to is dead, and there's a bunch of ruffians after us. Run! Beat it!"

CHAPTER XII.

PAT TAKES A BIG CHANCE.

The _Manhattan_ glided like a duck over the waters of the Bashee
Channel, South of the Island of Formosa. A week had passed since that
night in Yokohama, and Ned and Jimmie were back among the islands north
of Luzon.

It had been a close shave that night, for the boys had been only a few
feet ahead of their pursuers when they were fortunate enough to come
upon a party of American marines on shore leave. The marines had
gathered about the panting boys and finally, after fighting off the
Japs, conducted them to their hotel. The last Ned saw of the man whom he
believed to be an American military man in the disguise of a Jap he was
running in a most undignified manner down the street, as if not willing
to look upon the uniforms of the marines. The next morning he had caught
a glimpse of the fellow, but had not been able to get close to him. On
the day before he left for Manila the man had left the port. Ned was of
the opinion that he had traveled on to Manila, and so on to the group of
islands which the _Manhattan_ was now nosing among.

At Manila Ned had again conferred with Major John Ross, and that
dignified official had virtually dismissed the boy from the service. He
had scolded him for going over to Yokohama and for stirring up a mess
there, as he put it, between a party of hilarious marines and the local
police.

However, Ned did not accept dismissal. Instead of remaining at Manila,
as ordered to do, until word could be received from Washington, he
joined Pat in the motor boat, provisioned her for a long cruise, and set
out to locate the island which was to see the signing of the treaty
between the tribes of the Philippines--the treaty which was certain to
bring war and starvation to the islands.

He was sure the treaty had not yet been signed, and he could not
understand the delay. It did not seem possible that his appearance at
the island first chosen for the meeting could have caused so long a wait
in the important negotiations. He had suspicions at times that the
disappearance from the scene of the men he had followed to Yokohama had
had something to do with the delay.

In looking over the results of the trip to the Japanese city, Ned was
fairly well satisfied with them. He believed that he had caught a
glimpse of the man who was at the head of the plot against the United
States. When he considered that the sailor who had complained so
bitterly of the manner in which he had been treated had been murdered in
his room while the suspect sat below in disguise, he did not doubt that
the crime had been committed by paid assassins for the purpose of
enforcing secrecy.

On the whole he was well pleased with the progress of the case. He had
made his discoveries by deviating from the paths usually followed by
investigators, but he believed that he held the right clues in his
hands. It remained for him now to find the island where the treaty was
to be signed and await developments.

It was sure that if the king-pins of the conspiracy could be captured
the whole fabric would fall to the ground. He believed that large sums
of money were being used, though he could not tell where the cash was
coming from. Sometimes he thought commercial interests guilty of the
reckless thing that was being done. Sometimes he thought the plot
original with the foxy prime minister of some nation looking for
additional possessions in the Orient.

At Manila he had learned that Lieutenant Rowe had been restored to
liberty, badly wounded, but in a fair way to recover. The Lieutenant,
however could do little to assist the investigation, as he had learned
little during his captivity, had not been permitted to see the leading
spirits. As Ned had believed from the first, the men who attacked him
were not inclined to do murder unnecessarily. All they sought was the
sealed orders carried by the officer and the man who had followed on
after him and entered unceremoniously through the window.

One thing Ned could not understand was the matter of the despatches
handed the Lieutenant by the man who had entered the nipa hut in so
strange a manner, shortly after midnight on the night of the attack.
These instructions, according to reports, countermanded the ones
Lieutenant Rowe had received in person at Manila, and would have turned
him back without conferring with Major Ross or the lads he had with him.

The fourth man had declared, when seen by by Ned at Manila, that he had
managed to follow on the heels of the Lieutenant with the supplemental
instructions, and had reached the island at midnight. He said that he
had entered by way of the window because the front of the house seemed
to be watched with hostile intent, and because there was a ladder there
ready to his hand.

This story seemed a little fishy to Ned, but he had no means of proving
that the man was not telling the truth. The fellow certainly had been
given despatches to deliver to Lieutenant Rowe, with orders to follow
him and place them in his hands personally. But the instructions
received by the Lieutenant were not, it was asserted, the ones sent to
him.

The supplemental instructions would have taken him back to Manila at
once, as has been said, without conferring with Major Ross and the
assistants he had brought with him. It was insisted at the military
office that the instructions sent out had increased rather than
diminished the Lieutenant's authority to act.

One of two things seemed to be true. Either there was a traitor in the
office, or the instructions had been changed. The envelope might have
been shifted after reaching the man's hands or he might have substituted
the counterfeit ones for the original ones. In this latter case the
messenger was himself a traitor, and would bear watching.

Ned would have liked nothing better than to have remained in Manila for
the purpose of investigating this phase of the case, but he believed
that the mystery would be solved eventually where the work was being
done--on the ground with the native tribes which were being urged into
revolt. So he had provisioned the _Manhattan_ and, much to the joy of
the boys, headed for the group of islands north of Luzon.

It was glorious there in the channel, with the green islands lifting
from the lacquered sea, bluer than any sky the lads had ever seen. From
the bow of the _Manhattan_ spread two thin emerald lines curling
transparently and tipped with foam. Upon the immensity of the sea there
would be for hours no other movement, and upon the immensity of the sky
there would not be a fleck of cloud. At night the boys slept in their
bunks with the waves whispering to the sand of some sheltered bay.

"I hope we'll never find the island where the treaty is to be signed,"
Jack said, one morning. "I'd like to stay here forever."

"Why don't you build a hut on one of the islands and stay there, then?"
asked Jimmie.

"I guess you'd soon get weary of doin' the Robinson Crusoe act an' get
back to the Great White Way!"

"I'm not looking for life in the jungle," Jack replied. "The water is
good enough for me."

One morning when the _Manhattan_ lay in a bay on the eastern shore of an
island of good size and Jack proposed a trip to the shore.

"There's game up there," he said, pointing to an elevation not far from
the beach. "Unless I'm very much mistaken there is a line of hills on
the other side of this bit of land, with a valley in between the two. If
this is right, that valley will be well stocked with game, and I'm
getting hungry for fresh meat."

"There's surely one class of animal life there," Frank said. "Hear the
monkeys! They must be holding some kind of a convention!"

While the boys were talking Ned came out of the cabin with his glass. He
gazed landward for a long time and then handed the glass to Jack.

"There's something stirring up the little chaps," he said.

"They're always wigglin' like a basket of snakes," Jimmie observed.

"Sounds like they were calling the police," Frank put in.

"I'll tell you about it when I return," Jack said. "If there's anything
grand, gloomy or peculiar over there I'll be sure to find it. Want to go
along with me, little boy?" he added, turning to Jimmie, who at once
resented this manner of address by trying to push Jack overboard.

"Of course I'm goin'," Jimmie declared, giving over his benevolent
intentions with regard to Jack. "I reckon you'll get lost if you go six
yards away from the _Manhattan_ alone."

"Run along, both of you!" Ned said. "And don't get into trouble. We've
got no time to waste looking up runaway boys."

"If the native tribes are holding a convention there," Frank said, as
the boys slipped into the boat which they were to row ashore, "just give
them my compliments and ask them to dinner."

For some moments after the boys reached the white beach and disappeared
in the jungle Ned stood scanning the island with his glass.

"I half believe the chiefs are there," he said, turning to Frank.

"Then why did you let the boys go?" asked the latter.

"I wish now that I hadn't," Ned replied.

"Say," Pat called out, "I can go and bring 'em back. They can't be very
far away. Shall I?"

"Yes," was the hesitating reply, "and bring back all the news you can
about what is going on on the island. There's something unusual taking
place there, judging from the row the monkeys are making."

"How you going to get ashore?" asked Frank. "The boat is over there on
the beach."

"I'll show you," Pat replied.

The next moment he was in the water, striking out with lusty strokes for
the shore, only a few rods away.

"There's a crocodile coming!" Frank called out to him.

The call was designed to make Pat show a burst of speed, but it did
indeed serve as a warning to the swimmer, for a huge crocodile separated
himself from a point a few paces away and started to make a breakfast of
the boy.

Pat saw the danger and hesitated an instant, uncertain whether to turn
back to the _Manhattan_ or to strike out for the shore. This second of
hesitation would have cost him his life if Ned had not acted promptly.

When he saw that the crocodile was sure to win in the race, he fired one
shot and the saurian disappeared beneath the surface of the water, shot
through the eye. Pat turned back to the _Manhattan_, but Ned directed
him to go on to the shore, find the boys, and return as quickly as
possible.

"And row back here before you go," continued Ned.

"And swim to the beach again?" called Pat, glancing cautiously about.
"Not on your whiskers!"

"Afraid of a little crocodile not more then forty feet long!" laughed
Frank, as Pat reached the beach and entered the boat.

"Here's the boat," Pat called, in a few moments, touching the bow of the
_Manhattan_. "What next!"

"I'm going with you and bring it back," Ned replied. "When you boys
reach the beach you'll have to call out. I'm going to take the
_Manhattan_ out farther."

"All right!" Pat said. "I think you need to after that shot!"

"And tell the boys," Ned went on, "that they'll have the chiefs of a
hundred tribes of dog-eaters after them if they don't get to the boat
right quick!"

"I guess that ought to bring them!" Frank said.

Ned accompanied Pat to the beach, brought the boat back, and then moved
the _Manhattan_ some distance out in the bay.

"Do you really think the boys are in danger?" asked Frank, after they
had settled down to a careful watch of the beach.

"They certainly are," was the reply.

"Do you think the chiefs are really on that island?"

"Yes; in fact, I am quite certain of it."

"Oh, a wild cat might have stirred up the monkeys," Frank said, hardly
believing the lame explanation of the disturbances which he was making.

Ned pointed off to the west.

"Look there," he said.

"Can't see a thing."

"Then take the glass," Ned said.

"Why," Frank said, "there's smoke over there on the west coast! Now,
what do you think of that? It wasn't there a few minutes ago."

"No," replied Ned. "It wasn't there a few minutes ago. It puffed up
while I was looking that way."

"It must be a steam launch," Frank observed.

"Of course," Ned replied, "and steam has been gotten up since that shot
was fired. Now do you understand?"

"I'm afraid I do," Frank replied. "And the steamer is coming around here
to see what's going on, and the native chiefs will be coming down to the
bay to look the situation over! Where do the boys come out?"

"They are in a dangerous position," Ned replied.

"I hope they'll get here before the steamer turns that point."

"They will have to return pretty soon if they do," Ned said, looking
again through his glass, "for the steamer is approaching the southern
end of the island rapidly, and will soon be in sight."

"Can we beat it?" asked Frank.

"On the run? I'm afraid not. If the boys were here we might stand a
chance of keeping out of their way for a long time, but we've got to
remain here until the last moment in the hope of their returning."

"You're not thinking of going away and leaving them, are you?" asked
Frank, surprised at Ned's remark.

"If we stay here and submit to capture," Ned replied, "it is all off for
all of us. If we get away we may be able to render assistance to the
boys, but if we remain here and are killed or taken prisoners there is
little hope for them, surrounded by savages on an unknown island,
without even a boat."

"Of course you are right," Frank said, "It seems cruel to sail away and
leave them here."

The steamer, as shown by the column of smoke, was now approaching the
southern end of the island, and would soon be in a position from which
the _Manhattan_ might be seen.

"If we are going at all," Ned said, with a sigh, "we may as well be
moving. We ought to be able to make the north end by the time they gain
the south end. It will be a game of chase, I reckon. I hope the boys
will understand."

"They certainly will," replied Frank. "They know well enough we are no
quitters, and that there is usually a good reason for what you do."

The _Manhattan_ was soon in motion, speeding at the rate of fifteen or
eighteen miles an hour toward the north end of the island. Ned watched
the smoke of the steamer intently as the race progressed. Finally the
point at the north was turned, and, much to the surprise of both boys,
they saw Pat standing on the beach beckoning to them in a manner full of
excitement.

"There's been something doing," said Frank, with a shiver.

CHAPTER XIII.

OF THE WILD CAT PATROL, MANILA.

The smoke from the steamer was now on the south end of the island,
moving along toward the east with a speed which showed Ned that it would
be impossible to outfoot the larger craft.

There was little time to lose, if the _Manhattan_ was to continue the
flight, and yet it was evident that Pat had something of importance to
communicate or desired to be at once taken on board. Ned did not
hesitate long, for the boy's life might be at stake.

But when the _Manhattan_ neared the point of land upon which Pat stood
the boy shook his head and pointed to the west. It was clear that he did
not wish to be taken on board there.

Ned kept on toward the beach, however, notwithstanding Pat's frantic
gestures, and was not a little annoyed when he saw the boy wade out into
the water, down the sloping shore, lapped by tiny waves, and strike out
boldly for the boat.

He reached the _Manhattan_ in safety, was hauled in, and sank down in
the cockpit with a grunt of exhaustion for he had exerted his full
strength, "and then some" as he afterwards explained, in the long swim.
Presently he arose and pointed to a little projection on the shore,
perhaps three hundred yards ahead.

"There's a river runs in there," he said, "and the _Manhattan_ will find
a safe harbor, as the stream though narrow, is deep and overhung with
trees and creepers."

"But they must know that there is a boat here," Frank said. "This engine
of ours talks some when she moves."

"I don't think they heard it," Pat insisted.

"But the shot?" asked Ned.

"That might have come from the island. Anyway," Pat went on, "there is
little commotion on the island except that made by the monkeys and the
birds."

"Did you see anything of the boys?" asked Ned, the safety of Jack and
Jimmie concerning him greatly.

"No," was the disappointing reply. "They got too good a start on me."

"How far inland did you go?" asked Frank.

By this time the _Manhattan_ was under way, and the place of refuge
spoken of by the boy was not far away.

"I climbed the hill that runs near the shore," was the reply. "The first
thing I saw was a collection of tents and leaf shelters."

Ned and Frank both gave exclamations of amazement.

"Found at last!" Frank said.

"The next thing I saw," Pat went on, "was a small steamer lying in a bay
on the west shore. There is a break in the hills which line that coast,
and I could see the boat plainly. I have seen her in Manila. It is the
_Miles_, and she is carrying the American flag. She got up steam just as
I caught sight of her, and at first I thought her activity had been
aroused by the shot which saved my life, but I've now reached the
conclusion that she was merely making a perfunctory trip around the
island."

"Then you think if we escape observation on this run we will be safe for
some hours?"

"I am quite sure of it, so far as those on the boat are concerned. But
what is the boat doing here? It is a government boat, used by officials
in making tours of inspection. Perhaps the high brows at Manila are wise
to what is going on here, and have sent the _Miles_ to look into the
matter. Then we're left, eh?"

As the _Manhattan_ was now nosing her way into the mouth of the little
stream referred to by Pat, and Ned was fully occupied in working her in,
he made no reply to the suggestions thus presented. However, he was
studying over the proposition with a wish in his breast that the _Miles_
might not be at that time in the legitimate service of the government.

He was virtually disobeying the positive orders of Major John Ross in
cruising about in the _Manhattan_ at that time. If he had obeyed
instructions he would doubtless be in Manila now awaiting the slow
unwinding of red tape, instead of there in the channel. He had taken the
bit in his teeth and desired to "make good."

Besides, he was satisfied that the government officers, if the _Miles_
really was there on an official mission, would merely disperse the
native chiefs if they were discovered and permit the plotters to escape.
This would only put off the day of final action, for the chiefs would
continue to assemble and discuss the treaty until the Philippines were
in a blaze of war or the men who were urging them on were in prison.

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11