A MISSING MOTOR BOAT.
"You rapscallion," Pat Mack whispered, as the two came together in the
embrace of a particularly tough creeper, "how did you ever get here? I
saw you last on the good old Bowery!"
"I didn't fly over," replied Jimmie. "Here," he added, "take this bolo
an' cut that rope! What did you mean by chokin' me when I cut you
loose?"
"A hug of affection!" retorted the other. "You looked like an angel to
me! Did you flutter down from the sky in the rain?"
"I ought to give you a good punch for it!" Jimmie replied. "You near
took the hide off me beautiful nose! Have you got that bloomin' steel
cable cut? Seems to me they are comin' after us!"
The boys stood perfectly still and listened. Above the patter of the
rain, above the murmur of the trees, above the chattering of the aroused
monkeys, came the crash of heavy bodies through the bushes, the sound of
human voices.
"Sure they are!" whispered Pat, and they set off again.
Working their way painfully through the jungle, falling now and then
over long vines, coming into contact with great trees and swinging
parasites which brushed against their faces like snakes, the boys
pressed on as rapidly as possible, but ever the sounds of pursuit came
closer! The pursuers were more familiar with jungle methods than they,
and no pretense of secrecy was made.
"Have you got a gun?" whispered Jimmie.
"I haven't even got a toothpick," was the reply.
"We'll have to fight before long," Jimmie said, panting with the
exertion of the unfamiliar struggle with the jungle.
"There's plenty of hollow trees about," suggested Pat. "Why not hide in
one of them until they pass?"
The suggestion seemed a good one, for a moment. Then the uselessness of
such an effort at concealment became apparent. With sinking hearts the
boys heard the low whine of a hound!
"I wonder how they managed to track us so easily," Jimmie said.
"Give me the bolo," Pat said. "I'll split the dog's head open if he
comes near us. Use your gun on the men."
The boys did not give up hope of final escape, but pressed on for a
time. However, the acclivity they were ascending grew steeper as they
advanced, and they were obliged to stop now and then to rest. On one of
these occasions they heard a commotion in the jungle just ahead of them.
This was disheartening!
"They've flanked us!" whispered Pat.
The pursuers were carrying a torch which, in the rain, gave a dim light,
but still served to direct their steps, and the glow of the flame now
reached to the very spot where the lads stood. The bushes behind them
parted and the glowing eyes of the hound looked up in their faces. Then
the call of the beast told the men following that he had at last sighted
his prey.
The boys turned to flee again, but came up against an almost
perpendicular wall of rock. The pursuers saw them now and came on with
cries of victory.
"Guess they've got us!" Pat said.
"Not yet!" Jimmie answered.
But, however courageous the lads might have proved themselves to be,
they would have been taken in a moment had they not received unexpected
assistance. The hound was almost at their feet when a shot was heard and
the great beast fell to the ground, struggled for an instant, and lay
still.
Another shot followed the first instantly, and the torch dropped from
the uplifted hand of the evil-faced man who was carrying it in the lead.
An intense, uncanny darkness followed the extinction of the torch, and
the two boys took advantage of it to edge around the face of the rock
which had blocked their progress. Without the help of the dog, and
without the torch, the pursuers could do little, and stood on equal
terms with the pursued.
It was impossible, of course, for the boys to make their way through the
jungle without making any noise, and in a moment the pursuing party
showed its temper by firing revengeful shots at the spots from which the
sounds of their progress proceeded. After half a dozen bullets had
clipped the bushes about the heads of the lads two shots came from in
front, the lead whizzing over their heads. A sharp cry of distress was
heard in the rear at the second shot, and then all was still.
The boys crouched in the open space between the "legs" of a balete tree
and waited for some possible explanation of the strange thing that had
taken place. Who had killed the hound, and who was it that was shooting
at the enemy over their heads? These questions were hard to answer.
"It is one of the boys from the _Manhattan_," Jimmie concluded, at last.
"Then why don't he show up?" demanded Pat. "Who is in the _Manhattan_?"
"Ned Nestor and two members of the Black Bear Patrol," was the reply.
"We came over here to sleuth."
"To what?"
"To sleuth. To do the Sherlock Holmes stunt. To put down an insurrection
in the Philippines!"
"You seem to be putting it down," Pat said, in a sarcastic tone.
"We've got it by the neck!" insisted Jimmie.
"Ned's being along will help some," said Pat. "He's the boy to get to
the bottom of a tough case. If he's on this side of the world, that's
him in the shrubbery just ahead. Did you hear the signals a short time
ago?"
"Of course."
"Well, that's the bunch coming."
"What bunch?" demanded Jimmie.
"Why, the Chinks, of course."
"What they coming here for?"
"I guess they expect to take the Philippines home with 'em," was the
reply. "Anyway, they're plotting to take Uncle Sam down and search him
for them."
"Did you hear much of their talk?" asked Jimmie.
"Quite a little, but Lieutenant Rowe made so much noise I couldn't hear
all that was said when they were near me. He's badly wounded."
"I'd like to know just what took place at the hut Captain Godwin put you
fellows in night before last," Jimmie said.
"There's treachery somewhere," began Pat, but just then a sound reached
their ears which drove all thoughts of that other night from their
minds. It was the low, snarling call of a wolf!
"That's Ned!" whispered Jimmie.
"It's a Wolf, anyway," Pat exclaimed, losing caution in the excitement
of the moment. "That will help some!"
The boy's voice must have been heard above the rain and the swishing of
the tropical growth, for several shots came from the rear, and one of
the bullets cut into the tree near Pat's head.
"They seem to be gettin' the range!" Pat said, scratching his head and
blessing his lucky star that a bullet had not connected with it.
"They couldn't hit a flock of bridges!" said Jimmie, disdainfully.
Then he straightened up and gave out a long, shrill cry, like that of a
wolf calling to the pack. Pat caught him by the arm and drew him back
into the semi-shelter of the "legs" of the balete tree.
"You'll have a spray of lead flying this way in a second!" he said.
"Can't you give the Wolf call without alarming the people of Hong Kong,
six hundred miles away?"
"I'm celebratin'!" answered the boy.
Again the wolf cry echoed through the forest, and this time it was
answered from within a few feet of where the boys stood. There were no
shots this time, and it was concluded that the pursuers had returned to
the camp.
"Ned!" called Jimmie.
"Hey, there!" added Pat.
"That voice sounds like Chatham Square!" said a voice close to the boy's
elbow, and in the darkness two hands fumbled together and clasped in a
hearty greeting.
"What you followin' me about for?" demanded Jimmie, as the three started
on through the jungle again.
"You've got your nerve!" said Pat. "Only for the darkness I'd hand you
one for that. What's he following you for? If he hadn't followed you,
both of us would have been captured back there."
"Hereafter," Ned said, "when Jimmie goes into the woods I'm going to tie
a string to him, so he can be pulled back home."
"Huh!" snickered Pat, "they tied plenty of strings to me, but they
didn't pull me back home!"
It was so still in the rear, for all of any sounds of pursuit, that the
boys decided that their enemies had given up the search for them, so
they walked faster and soon came out on the elevation which Ned had
mounted on leaving the _Manhattan_ in the afternoon. The rain ceased
gradually, and a fugitive moon was seen now and then among the hurrying
clouds.
With the first show of light Ned looked Pat Mack over with interest. The
Irish lad returned the friendly glance with interest, and the two again
clasped hands.
"We didn't anticipate such a meeting," Ned said.
"You knew I had gone to the Philippines," Pat said, "but I had no idea
you would ever wander off here. Tell me about it."
The story was soon told, in condensed form, and then Ned asked:
"That was Lieutenant Rowe who was captured?"
"Sure! They got into our hut and geezled us good. I shall not be able to
straighten out my arms for a month."
"Your hands must have been free when you left those signs in the grass,"
said the patrol leader.
"They caught me doing it," said Pat, "and that is why I was tied up
tighter than the others."
"Well, you did a good job before they caught you," Jimmie said. "When
you goin' back to let the others loose?"
"Lieutenant Rowe is in great pain because of his wound," Pat replied,
"and we ought to do something for him soon."
"Where is the fourth man--the fellow who climbed in the window?" asked
Ned in a moment.
"Say!" Pat answered, "there was something strange about that! He came in
with new instructions--instructions which would have sent us off to
Manila again, and the Lieutenant wouldn't stand for them, and so--"
"They had a scrap?" asked Jimmie.
"Did the Lieutenant doubt the authenticity of the instructions?" asked
Ned.
"I think he did," was the reply, "and so did the messenger! Odd, eh?"
"But he must have been expecting the messenger," Ned went on, "for the
screen at the window where he entered was left unfastened for him."
"He was expecting some one," answered Pat, "but of course he did not
know who it would be. Anyway, he was not anticipating faked
instructions."
"But why was he so secret about letting the fellow in? Why wasn't the
door used when he came?"
"I don't know. The messenger the Lieutenant was expecting was to come
secretly and go secretly. That's all I know about it."
"He was to be sent by the government officers?"
"Of course."
"From what point?"
"Oh, I don't know," answered Pat. "It is all a muddle. I can't
understand how a man could follow us with instructions, anyway. We came
fast in the motor boat, and could not have been followed in a canoe. I
don't know where this messenger was to spring from, I'm sure. Anyhow,
the wrong one came, or the right one brought the wrong dispatches, and
Lieutenant Rowe wouldn't stand for it, and there was a conference, and
then the brown men came in and we were geezled. Looked like a raid on a
pool room in little old New York!"
"But this false messenger--the wrong man, or the right man with the
wrong instructions--was captured also?"
"Yes, he was; and he made a row about it. I'll tell you what I think.
There's treachery in the secret service somewhere. Some interest or some
nation is trying to take the Philippines away from Uncle Sam."
"And receiving assistance from those in the employ of Uncle Sam!" Ned
said, musingly. "Well, I'm here to see what can be done in the line of
locking the traitors up in a nice hot cell at Manila."
"You needn't look much farther," Jimmie said. "There's a second motor
boat out in a bay west of the island, and I'm tellin' you that it came
across from China. It is the washee-washee people who are kicking up
this mess, all right."
"You seem to have solved the mystery," laughed Ned. "From the first we
have known that there was a conspiracy against Uncle Sam, but the
question has always been 'Who?' and not 'What for?' The purpose of the
alleged treaty has never been a mystery. What we are here for is to
catch the conspirators with the goods, as Inspector Byrnes used to say.
And now you've solved the puzzle!"
"Quit yer kiddin'!" exclaimed Jimmie. "I can say what I think, can't I?
Besides, if it ain't the Chinks, who is it?"
"That is just what we want to know," Ned replied, more soberly. "There
is a notion at Washington that it may be some financial interest. The
newspapers were saying, when we left civilization, that a certain
monopoly was financing the Mexican revolution, and there is a suspicion
that some disloyal men in the United States are doing the same with the
ignorant natives of the Philippines--urging them on and supplying them
with guns and ammunition."
"Well," Pat observed, "whoever it is that is doing the business, there
are traitors in the secret service department. The Americans who acted
with the Filipinos who captured us are posted as to what is going on at
Washington, all right."
"Let's go and get them," suggested Jimmie. "I guess the third degree
would make them tell all about it!"
"Yes," suggested Pat, "you run out and get them while we find the
_Manhattan_! That will be a nice little job for you!"
"I wouldn't let them tie me up, anyway," growled Jimmie, annoyed at the
chaffing of his friends. "Say!" he added, "here's our little bay now,
but where is that bloomin' motor boat? Some one's come and carried it
away while we've been in the woods, an' took Jack and Frank away with
it!"