ONE WAY OF ENTERING A FORTIFIED CITY.
“Now where?” asked Dan, after we had halted and listened with all our
ears to learn if we were being followed.
“To Manila, as was our original idea,” I answered. “But you may not
want to go that way,” I added, to Matt Gory.
“Sure an’ Oi’ll go wid youse b’ys,” answered the son of Erin, with a
grin. “Oi’m afther makin’ a soldier of forchune av meself,” and he made
a mocking bow at which both Dan and I laughed.
“We may be very useful to Longley in Manila,” I continued. “He may be
having more than his hands full to protect the firm’s interests. He
said he had about six thousand dollars in the big safe that he did not
care to place in the Spanish bank, and----”
“You are right, Oliver, we must get into Manila somehow, to help
Longley, if for no other purpose. The thing of it is, which is the best
way to do it?”
“Let us get as close to the city walls as we can first and then
arrange our plans,” I suggested, and this was speedily agreed to, for
there was no telling what might happen before we came in sight of the
capital city of Luzon.
From a distance came a constant firing, which told us that the rebels
and the Spaniards were having a full-fledged fight. But presently, as
we moved along, this died away in the distance.
Pony riding just suited Dan and me, but it went hard with Matt Gory,
who had never ridden before. “Sure, an’ the hard saddle will be afther
cuttin’ me in two,” he groaned. “An’ the baste prances so he’ll have me
insoides turned out before we come to a halt this avenin’!”
“Move with the pony,” I suggested, and gave him a practical
illustration, but he was not cut out for saddle riding and made a sorry
figure even when doing his best.
It had threatened a shower and soon it was raining in torrents. We kept
to the road for half an hour longer, when it grew so deep with water
and mud that we had to draw off to one side.
“I see a shelter beyond,” said Dan, pointing it out. “And not a soul is
in sight. Come on,” and he led the way.
It was an open shelter, built of long poles thatched with palm. There
had been a house close by, but this was tumbled down into decay. We
rode our ponies under the shelter and, dismounting, tethered them to
some trees which acted as corner posts.
The rain continued throughout the noon hour and for some time after,
and it was not until nightfall that we continued our journey. In the
meantime we had refreshed ourselves with some plantains found in the
vicinity, and allowed the ponies to feed upon whatever was to be found
in the neighborhood.
Nightfall found us close to the Spanish lines, and we resolved to
abandon our steeds, so turned them loose, feeling that they would soon
find new masters.
We were moving along in the gathering darkness when we heard the
creaking of a water buffalo cart, heavy, awkward-looking things common
to all parts of the Philippines. Soon the cart came in sight, drawn
by two buffalo cows, hitched up tandem. On the seat of the turnout
sat a sleepy-looking native, wearing only a shirt, trousers, and
broad-brimmed straw hat. The cart was partly filled with straw, and on
top rested a pile of yams and other vegetables, and a bag of cocoanuts.
“I’ll wager he’s bound for Manila!” whispered Dan. “I wonder if he
can’t smuggle us in!”
“Let us stop him and see,” I returned. “I believe all of these natives
are against the Spaniards, even though they may not like the idea of
American rule.”
We leaped forward, and while Matt Gory held the leading cow, Dan and
I hurried to the seat of the cart. Roused up, the native was taken
completely by surprise and stared at us in open-mouthed wonder.
Dan quickly asked him if he was bound for the market place in Manila
and he answered in the affirmative. Then my chum told him of what we
wished to do, at which the native grinned.
“Get into the cart if you will, and hide,” he said, in Spanish. “But
remember, if Spanish officers find you, I know not that you were there.”
“We agree,” answered Dan, and the straw was lifted up and all three of
us made places for ourselves. Of course the hiding place was a damp and
by no means pleasant one, but this could not be helped, and as it was
our own choice nobody grumbled.
The progress of the cart had been slow before, but with the added
weight it crawled along at a snail’s pace. As long as the darkness
served to hide us, we held up our heads for air, but with the first
appearance of the electric lights of Manila, we dove out of sight.
“We are entering the town,” whispered Dan, as the clumsy cart creaked
over a bridge. “I think we’ll be safe in ten minutes more.”
He had scarcely finished when there came a loud command to halt, and
the native brought his cart to a standstill. A brief parley followed,
and a couple of Spanish guards came up to the cart and calmly
confiscated several cocoanuts from the bag. Then the turnout was
allowed to proceed in the direction of the market place.
“Now is your time,” whispered the driver to Dan, as we passed through a
rather dark portion of a thoroughfare. “Drop out and you will be safe.”
“Here is something for your aid,” whispered my chum in return, and
handed him a Mexican silver dollar, much to the native’s delight, for
such a piece, even though worth but fifty cents, is a good round sum in
the Philippines.
Dan then dropped from the tail-end of the cart and Matt Gory and I
followed. An alleyway was close at hand and we darted into this, to
plan out our next movement.
“We are a good half mile from the offices,” said Dan. “And I must
confess I don’t know the way.”
“Sure an’ mebbe youse would have done better to have stayed in th’
cart,” said the Irish sailor. “Howsomeever, lead on an’ Oi’ll be afther
followin’ ye!”
“Let us move on along the streets until we see some signboard,” I
suggested. “We know what street the offices are on, and the number.”
“That is so, Oliver. All right, come ahead;” and again Dan led the way.
“It’s a regular Donnybrook Fair town,” said Matt Gory. “Oi’m afther
gittin’ me a club!” and he picked up a stick lying in a gutter. Before
long Dan and I armed ourselves in a similar manner.
As I have mentioned, Manila was now under military rule, and at every
other street corner we came in sight of a soldier, walking slowly back
and forth or lounging idly against a door-post smoking a cigarette on
the sly and talking to some pretty native damsel. To pass these guards
unobserved was by no means easy.
“Here is the right street!” exclaimed Dan, after a quarter of an hour
had passed. “The numbers show that we cannot be more than four or five
squares away from the offices.”
“Does that clerk live be thim offices?” queried Matt Gory.
“Yes, he has two rooms upstairs,” I answered. “If that money is still
in the safe he must certainly be staying there to guard it.”
Another block was passed, when Dan clutched me by the shoulder, and
likewise pulled the Irish sailor back. “Look!” he whispered.
We gazed in the direction he pointed, and saw four men huddled together
in a corner of a rambling business building, not half a block away from
the offices of Raymond, Holbrook & Smith. They were talking earnestly.
Each wore a light, night cloak over his shoulders, and as one of them
raised this covering, we caught the gleam of a dagger handle sticking
from his breast.
“By Jove! they are up to something; that’s as sure as you are born!”
ejaculated Dan.
“They be Spanish assassins!” muttered Matt Gory. “Sure an’ they look
loik thim villains we used to see in the ould picture books!”
“See, they are moving over this way,” I said, a second later. “We must
get out of sight, or we’ll be discovered, and they may hand us over to
the guard.”
I looked around, and saw a narrow opening between two business
buildings. Into this we crowded, behind a pile of half-broken hogsheads
and other rubbish. Hardly had we settled ourselves than the four
evil-looking fellows took another stand not ten feet away from us.
An animated conversation ensued, of which I understood only a few
words. But Dan caught the drift of the talk, and grabbed my arm so
tightly that I knew at once that something out of the ordinary was on
the way. Five minutes later, the strangers moved off once more.
“The villains!” gasped my chum, as soon as he felt safe to speak. “Do
you know what they are planning to do? They are going to break into our
offices, kill Harry Longley if necessary, and then loot the safe!”