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Boy Scouts in the Philippines
Or
The Key to the Treaty Box
By Scout Master G. Harvey Ralphson
Author of "Boy Scouts in Mexico; or On Guard with Uncle Sam." "Boy
Scouts In the Canal Zone; or The Plot Against Uncle Sam." "Boy Scouts in
the Northwest; or Fighting Forest Fires."
Copyright 1911.
M. A. Donohue & Company.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Eleotrotyped, Printed and Bound by M. A. Donohue & Co.
[Illustration: Boy Scouts in the Philippines; or The Key to the Treaty
Box.]
CONTENTS
I. Black Bears and Wolves
II. It's Up to the Boy Scouts
III. The Midnight Visitor
IV. The Signals in Grass
V. On the Rim of the China Sea
VI. The Low Call of a Wolf
VII. A Missing Motor Boat
VIII. Wigwags from the Beach
IX. Two Keys to the Treaty Box
X. A Hot Night in Yokohama
XI. A Fairy History of Japan
XII. Pat Takes a Big Chance
XIII. Of the Wild Cat Patrol, Manila
XIV. The Senator's Son Seeks a Key
XV. Signal Lights in the China Sea
XVI. For Piracy on the High Seas
XVII. The Flare of a Rocket
XVIII. The Man Behind the Door
XIX. Boy Scouts Unearth Plot
Boy Scouts in the Philippines
OR
The Key to the Treaty Box
CHAPTER I.
BLACK BEARS AND WOLVES.
"Wake up--wake up--wake up!"
Frank Shaw, passenger on the United States army transport _Union_, San
Francisco to the Philippines, awoke in his cabin to find the freckled
face of Jimmie McGraw grinning above him.
"What's the use?" he demanded, sleepily and impatiently. "It will be
only another roasting day on a hot deck on an ocean fit to stew fish in.
What's the use of getting up? I'm going to sleep again."
Frank's intentions were all right, but he did not go to sleep again. As
he turned over and closed his eyes, Jimmie seized him deftly by the
shoulders and dumped him out on the scarlet rug which covered the floor
of the stateroom.
Frank was seventeen and Jimmie was younger, and so there was a mixture
of legs and arms and vocabulary for a moment, at the end of which Jimmie
broke away and made for the door, which he had thoughtfully left open as
a means of retreat.
Left thus alone on the tumbled blankets of the bunk from which he had
been hustled, Frank rubbed his eyes, threw a pillow at his tormentor,
and began making his way toward his cozy nest, much to Jimmie's disgust.
"Aw, come on!" the boy urged, still standing in a safe place by the
doorway. "It's hot enough to melt brass in here, an' the siren's been
shoutin' for half an hour! That means land--the Philippines! Perhaps you
think you're lookin' for Battery Park, in little old New York! Get up
an' look out of the port, over the rollin' sea, to the land of the
little brown men!"
Looking through the doorway, over the boy's shoulders, Frank smiled
serenely at what he saw and sat waiting for something to happen. Then
Jimmie was propelled headlong into the room, where he landed squarely on
top of the drowsy boy he had dragged out of bed. There was another
scramble for points, and then two boys of about seventeen showed their
faces in the doorway, laughing at the mix-up on the floor.
The transport's siren broke out again in its long, shrill greeting of
the land which lay above the rim of the sea, and Frank, catapulting
Jimmie against the wall at the back of the bunk, hastened to the open
port and looked out.
The boys who had entered the cabin so unceremoniously were Ned Nestor
and Jack Bosworth, who were traveling with Frank and Jimmie to the
Philippines, the party being under the direction of Major John Ross, of
the United States Secret Service.
They had left Panama about the middle of April, and it was now not far
from the first of June, the transport having been delayed for a week at
Honolulu, where she had put in for supplies. The boys had enjoyed the
trip hugely, but were, nevertheless, not displeased at the sight of
land.
Leave it to the lads themselves, and this was a Boy Scout expedition,
although there was a serious purpose behind it. Ned Nestor and Jimmie
McGraw were members of the Wolf Patrol, Ned being the Patrol Leader,
while Frank Shaw and Jack Bosworth were members of the famous Black Bear
Patrol, both of the city of New York.
Those who have read the first two books of this series[1] will readily
understand the object of this journey to the Philippines, but for the
information of those who have not read the books it may be well to state
here that while in Mexico and the Canal Zone Ned Nestor had been able to
render valuable services to the United States government.
[Footnote 1: Boy Scouts In Mexico; or, On Guard with Uncle Sam. Boy
Scouts in the Canal Zone; or, The Plot Against Uncle Sam.]
At the close of his work in the Secret Service department of the Canal
Zone government, he had been invited to accompany Major Ross to the
Philippines for the purpose of assisting in the uncovering of an alleged
treasonable plot against the peace of the Islands and the continued
supremacy of the United States Government there.
Knowing little of what there was to be done, or of what was expected of
him, Ned had accepted the invitation to enter the Secret Service,
stipulating only that his chums should be permitted to accompany him to
Uncle Sam's new and somewhat unruly possessions in Asia.
"I won't go if we can't make a Boy Scout outing of it," he had insisted.
"I shall be glad to be of service to the government, but I want the boys
to have a jolly time, too. There must be plenty of opportunities for
adventure in the Philippines," he had added, thinking of the many odd
customs of the tribes of natives on the twelve hundred islands that
constitute the group.
"I shall be only too glad to have your friends go," the Major had
replied, "for I understand that they contributed not a little to the
success of your efforts in Mexico and the Canal Zone."
"I couldn't have done a thing without them," had been Ned's generous
reply, and so it was all arranged.
However, only three of the boys who had accompanied Ned from New York to
the Canal Zone had been at liberty to go to the Philippines, the others
reluctantly turning back home. The three to go were now assembled in the
cabin occupied by Frank Shaw, looking out to the dim line of land.
Frank Shaw was the son of the owner and editor of an influential daily
newspaper in New York, Jack Bosworth was the son of a wealthy board of
trade man, and Jimmie McGraw was a Bowery newsboy who had attached
himself to Ned Nestor, his patrol leader, just before the visit to
Mexico and had clung to him like a puppy to a root, as the saying is,
ever since.
"Come on, boys," Ned said, after an inspection of the ocean through the
port, "let's go on deck. We can see the whole show from there."
The boys trooped up to the rail and were soon joined by Major Ross. It
was now a little after dawn, and a sunrise breeze was lifting little
ripples on an otherwise motionless sea. Spread out, a couple of miles
away, was the outline of shore the siren was greeting.
It was a low coast, stretching away to right and left until lost in the
mists of the morning. It looked monotonous and furry with forests,
deserted and still, but in time the presence of man became observable.
A river wound down out of the trees and broke over a bar set against its
mouth in the sea. On the right bank of the stream a tin roof glistened
in the early sunlight. Wherever there is a tin roof there is
civilization in some degree, though this seemed to be a sleepy one.
Presently the call of the siren brought forth a boat, not in the little
bay, but up the river a few hundred yards. It moved down to the
coastline with only the canopy, which was of faded scarlet cloth, and
the heads of the rowers in view above the tops of the bushes and
creepers which lined the stream.
The land smoked under the rising temperature brought on by the climbing
sun, and Jimmie chuckled as he nudged Frank's arm.
"I see your finish there," he said. "A boy as fat as you are will melt
over there. There's nothin' left of the brown men in the boat but their
heads!"
Frank looked along the bow-shaped shore, over the palms, now touched
with the red light of a hot morning, and wiped his streaming forehead.
"This doesn't look good to me!" he said. "I thought we were going to
Manila!"
"Didn't Ned tell you about it?" asked Jack Bosworth.
"Not a word."
"Well, we're going to disembark here; I don't know the name of the
place, or even if it has one, and make our way among some of these
islands in a motor boat. There are a lot of secret service men at Manila
who don't want to mix with us kids!"
"That's nice!" Jimmie cried. "We won't do a thing to 'em! We'll put it
over 'em good, you see if we don't! I reckon Ned Nestor can give any of
'em half a string an' win out, at that!"
"Of course he can," Jack replied, "but I'm not kicking at this way of
doing things. I'm thinking of the motor boat, and the long days and
moony nights in the seas among these islands!"
"It will be great!" Jimmie admitted.
There was a short pause, and then he added, thoughtfully:
"Who's goin' to run the boat?"
"I can run it," was the reply.
"Yes, you can!"
"I own one," insisted Jack.
"Yes, an' you hire a man to run it!" Jimmie grinned. "I don't believe
you can run a hand cultivator!"
"Of course not!" laughed Jack. "But I can operate a motor boat," he
added.
"You can?" demanded Jimmie, with an exasperating grin. "Then perhaps you
can tell me if the motor boat we're goin' to have has pneumatic brakes?"
"Sure it has!" laughed Jack. "And it also has a rudder that you can
unship and use as a safety razor. You might open up a barber shop with
it, only the eminent citizens over here don't have any more whiskers
than a squash."
"You're gettin' dippy!" Jimmie shouted, darting away to the spot where
Ned and the Major were standing.
Directly a flag broke out over the tin roof and in a short time the boat
was at the transport's side. Full of enthusiasm, and with high hopes for
the immediate future, the boys and the Major descended to the shaky
little craft and the transport steamed off, her rails lined with
soldiers and civilians cheering the boys and wishing them good luck.
The last voice they heard as the boat crossed the bar and swung into the
sluggish current of the river was that of Captain Helmer, who had made
chums and companions of the boys on the way over.
"Good hunting!" he cried, through his megaphone, and the marine band
struck up "Home, Sweet Home," "just to give us a cheerful mood on
entering this desolate land!" as Major Ross declared.
"Do they all think we're goin' huntin'?" asked Jimmie, as the windrows
of salt water heaped up by the transport grew smaller and lapped on the
beach.
"Sure they do," replied Jack. "Do you think the Major told them we were
going into the jungles to catch a few recruits for the federal prison at
Manila? Nice thing, that would be!"
"There are just two persons, so far as I know, outside of the Secret
Service headquarters at Washington, who know what we are up to," Major
Ross said. "These are Colonel Hill, of the Canal Zone force, and Captain
Godwin, who is to receive us here."
The brown oarsmen tugged and strained at the oars, and the waters of the
river came up to the rim of the native boat and crept in and spread
themselves over the rotten floor. The boys were all glad when the prow
touched the little dock at the lone pueblo where Uncle Sam's flag
snapped in a breeze which was coming over the trees, bringing with it a
musty smell of decaying undergrowth.
Captain Godwin met them at the landing with great hand outstretched. He
was a stout, brown-faced man of fifty, with muscles like iron and a mind
all stuffed and tucked in with the glory of the United States. He was
proud of the service he had passed the greater part of his life in, and
was proud of the record for efficiency he had made. A kindly, bluff,
seasoned old man of war, with soft blue eyes and a hard hand.
"I should have sent the _Manhattan_ after you," he said, after
introductions had been made, "only there's something the matter with her
batteries."
"You bet there is!" laughed Jimmie. "The only battery that never gets
under foot or loses a shoe is at the foot of Broadway, in little old New
York!"
"Hardly at the foot of Broadway," Jack began, but Jimmie interrupted.
"Never mind," he said, "if we know where it is! You go an' fix up this
motor boat of the name of _Manhattan_, an' we'll have a ride."
"The boat will be ready by to-morrow morning," the Captain said, smiling
at the friendly arguments of the two boys. "I presume you have your
instructions?" he added.
"I have them here," Major Ross said, rather sternly, as he took a sealed
packet from his pocket.
"When and where are you to open that packet?" asked the Captain.
"On my arrival at this place," was the dignified reply.
The Major seemed to be of opinion that the Captain was stepping on his
official rights.
"Then we'll go up to the house and you look them over while I see what
can be found to celebrate this auspicious event! I don't often have the
pleasure of meeting four happy, husky, hungry boys fresh from the United
States!"
"You're the goods, all right!" shouted Jimmie. "But how did you guess we
were hungry?"
Captain Godwin laughed and clapped both his broad palms on his knees.
"How did I know?" he roared. "That's a good one! As if the boys weren't
always as hungry as black bears!"
"There are two Black Bears in the party!" Jimmie said.
"And two Wolves!" Jack added.
Captain Godwin looked from face to face in smiling wonder, and the boys
thrust all kinds of Boy Scout signs and words at him.
"I see," the Captain said, then. "I've heard of the Boy Scouts! And now
we'll go up to the house. Never saw a Black Bear or a Wolf that wasn't
hungry!"
The jolly Captain gave instructions to his servants and they promised,
with many native grimaces and a waste of tribal vocabulary, to have a
satisfying breakfast ready in half an hour. Then Godwin drew Major Ross
and Ned to one side, his good-natured face assuming a grave expression
as he seated them in a private room of the rambling and wobbly old
house.
"There's something unexpected here," he began, as the Major sat with his
sealed instructions in hand, "and I wish you would open your packet
immediately. To tell you the truth, I'm not a little worried."
The Major opened the packet and glanced hastily through several typed
sheets. Then his keen eyes grew puzzled and he arose to his feet and
looked out of the window.
"Something here I don't understand," he said. "Where's this Lieutenant
Rowe?"
"You are to confer with him here?" asked the Captain, and Major Ross
nodded assent. "Do you know what information he possesses?" continued
the Captain, "what papers he has in his possession?"
"My instructions say he has important documents."
"Well," said the Captain, arising to his feet, "now I'll take you to the
place where I last saw Lieutenant Rowe. He came here in the launch
_Manhattan_, which you are to have use of, last night, and went to bed
without talking much with me. I suspect that he brought the boat from
Manila, though I can't be sure. Anyway, he brought with him only two
young men who did not seem to know much about the boat--Americans."
"Have you seen him, the Lieutenant, or either of the young men, this
morning?" asked the Major, impatiently. "And why do you say you will
take us to the place where you saw him last? What is wrong here?"
"I don't know," was the reply. "There are no known hostile elements
here, and yet the little nipa hut where Rowe and his men lodged last
night was found empty this morning--empty and the contents in disorder,
the floor spotted with blood."