THE RIGHT MAN IN THE GUARD HOUSE
That command, however, in a good, strong American voice, had very far
from the effect of startling Hal Overton.
Down the street, barely a hundred feet away, a squad of a dozen soldiers
of B Company had just halted in column of twos.
At the head of the squad stood Sergeant Terry and Corporal Hyman.
"Sergeant Terry," called the self-rescued Army boy briskly, "march your
men here and halt them again."
"Very good, Sergeant Overton," answered Noll's voice, precise and formal
as though on parade, but there was a note of joy, none the less, in
Terry's voice.
"I will go now, senor," suggested Vicente Tomba, struggling slightly to
free himself as the squad again halted close to the Army boy.
"You will do nothing of the sort, Tomba," retorted Overton dryly. "You
are going to Fort Franklin as a military prisoner."
"This is ingratitude!" snarled the little brown man, looking decidedly
crestfallen.
"No; it is not. I owe you nothing for my freedom. Corporal Hyman, you
will take charge of the prisoner. See that he does not escape."
"Very good, Sergeant," replied Hyman, motioning to two of the men to
place themselves on either side of the prisoner.
"Now, Sergeant Terry, inform me how you came to be here with this
detachment?"
"I was sent into town, Sergeant Overton, under orders from Captain
Cortland. You were missed from parade, and the captain knew that could
not happen with you, unless there was something decidedly wrong. So, at
seven this evening, the captain directed me to take this detachment and
scour the town for you. If we did not find you by half-past nine I was
to report back to the post by messenger, and a larger detachment, under
an officer, was to be sent in."
"What time is it now?"
"About nine o'clock."
"We shall be back, then," nodded Hal, "within the time mentioned in your
orders. But I shall leave some of the detachment here until Captain
Cortland has acted upon the report that I shall make."
At that moment Sergeant Hal, glancing into Cerverra's store, caught
sight of the bright, eager eyes of the proprietor.
"Corporal Hyman, arrest that man, also," commanded young Overton
sharply, pointing into the shop. "The fellow's name is Cerverra, and he
had a part in the plot against me."
With two other soldiers Hyman darted into the shop, from which they soon
came out with Cerverra, who protested strongly.
Meanwhile Vicente Tomba had discovered a cause of discomfort.
"Senor Sergente," he complained, "during our struggle in the cellar you
knocked my cigarettes from my hand. I beg that you let one of your
soldiers take this piece of money into a shop and buy me more
cigarettes."
"Shall I do it, Sergeant?" inquired Hyman.
"Tomba," laughed Hal, "after all the trouble that that last cigarette
cost you I should think you'd feel like cutting out the habit forever. I
know I would drop any habit that had gotten me into such a mess. Had you
not wanted to smoke underground I would not have had such a fine chance
to upset you. Very likely you would have won, instead of me."
"But I want cigarettes, now," retorted Tomba almost fiercely. "It is
ungenerous to deprive me of them."
"Shall I let a man get them for him?" asked Hyman.
"Yes; if he insists," nodded Hal. "What an idiot a man is to allow
cigarettes to make such a slave of him that he can't pass an hour
without one."
A soldier was accordingly dispatched to the nearest tobacconist on
Tomba's errand. While this was taking place Hal hurriedly told his chum
and Corporal Hyman what had happened to him, and how he had escaped.
In all this time perhaps two score of curious natives had gathered in
the street, though all of them kept at a respectful distance. Sergeant
Hal examined these people keenly, though he failed to see any of the
eight from whom he had had such difficulty in escaping.
"Captain Cortland told me," Noll broke in at last, "that the former
military commander here informed him that he had had about a dozen of
his men disappear most unaccountably, and that not one of them had ever
been heard from afterward. So, when you failed to return, Hal, the
captain declared that he was going to sift this business to the bottom
before he stopped."
"I guess, then, that all of our poor comrades in the other regiment who
have disappeared in this miserable town of Bantoc have gone, as I did,
through visiting Cerverra's store. Now, Noll, I am going to leave you
here, with eight of the men, to take possession of Cerverra's store and
premises until you receive further orders from the post commander. Hyman
and I, and the other four men, will take the prisoners out to Fort
Franklin. I would leave you a couple more men, Noll, only I do not
forget that it is possible that there may be some attempt made to rescue
our prisoners."
"If the natives try that----" broke in Corporal Hyman.
"In the event of an attempted rescue, Corporal, direct your men that
they are to shoot the two prisoners at the first sign of an attempt at
rescue."
Tomba heard Hyman give the order, and spoke in a low tone to Cerverra.
Both rascals thereupon looked disconcerted.
"You have your instructions, Sergeant Terry," continued Hal Overton.
"March the guard, Corporal Hyman."
As the guard started, Hal fell in beside Corporal Hyman, telling him
more of what had happened in the cellar under the Moro curio shop.
"I reckon, Sarge, you've made the biggest discovery of the year in this
point of the woods," was Hyman's terse comment. "I reckon, too, the
captain will see it that way."
It was cooler by night, though this was due mainly to the absence of the
sun. The air was full of sticky moisture, and mosquitoes buzzed about
and bit viciously.
"I was born and reared in New Jersey," laughed Hal, striking at the
winged pests, "and I have had to stand a lot of guying about the
mosquitoes of my state. But Jersey has been libeled. Compared with these
Philippine pests the Jersey mosquito is mild enough to be a source of
delight."
There was no moon up, but the starlight was bright--and how big and
glowing the stars are in the tropics!
Marching at an easy route step over the firm, white road, it did not
take the returning detachment more than twenty minutes to cover the
distance to Fort Franklin.
"Halt your prisoners here, Corporal, and watch 'em until Captain
Cortland gives his orders about them," directed Hal. Then the young
sergeant turned down the street leading to officers' quarters, for the
administrative office of the post had been closed for hours.
Two minutes later Sergeant Hal Overton was detailing what had happened
him to the post commander.
"But wait before you go any further, Sergeant," cried Captain Cortland,
interrupting his tale. "I want the other officers to hear the whole of
this villainous business."
By the use of the telephone the other five commissioned officers on duty
at Fort Franklin were soon summoned.
"Now, begin again, Sergeant Overton," ordered Cortland, when all the
officers had gathered in his parlor.
The Army boy retold the entire story, leaving out nothing--not even, the
reader may be sure, what Vicente Tomba had said to Hal about Draney's
connection with the natives.
"Ray, you're officer of the day," broke in the post commander suddenly.
"Go out to Corporal Hyman and see that he turns Tomba and Cerverra over
at the guard house. Instruct the sergeant of the guard to make
absolutely certain that the prisoners have no chance to escape. Also,
Ray, you will send Corporal Hyman and his four men back to Sergeant
Terry. Direct the sergeant to keep his whole detachment on the ground
to-night, setting a regular guard. Hampton, as you're in charge of the
commissary and quartermaster details at this post, the first thing in
the morning you will make sure that Sergeant Terry's detachment is
supplied with rations enough for breakfast. Early in the morning I shall
look further into that plague spot of Cerverra's. Now, Sergeant Overton,
continue your story."
When it was finished the officers sat in silence for a few moments.
"Well, gentlemen," inquired Captain Cortland at last, "have you anything
to offer?"
"Are you going to arrest the man, Draney?" inquired Captain Freeman, of
C Company.
"Frankly," replied Cortland, "that is what is puzzling me. What do you
think, Freeman?"
"We cannot doubt Sergeant Overton, and he tells us that Tomba boasted
that Draney is in league with the natives in some conspiracy here."
"It is a matter of evidence," replied Captain Cortland musingly. "Not
one of you gentlemen would doubt Sergeant Overton's word on any question
of fact on which he has knowledge. But his report is based only on what
Vicente Tomba told him. Now, at the test, not one of you gentlemen
doubts that Tomba would deny it all point blank. I believe that Draney
is a scoundrel. I never liked the looks of the man from the first
moment, but I can't arrest him on account of my bad opinion of him. Nor
would any military or civil court hold him on account of what Sergeant
Overton says Tomba told him. That evidence would not satisfy the
requirements of any court of trial."
"Sir, is Draney really an American or an Englishman?" inquired
Lieutenant Hampton.
"I don't know, Hampton, nor do I believe any one else knows for certain.
Englishman or American, it is equally bad either way. If he's an
American, then I am sorry to say that there are multitudes of people
back in our own country who would welcome only too gladly a chance to
attack the government for locking an American up on what they would call
a flimsy charge. On the other hand, if Draney is an Englishman, and we
arrest him on anything but the most satisfactory evidence, then the
British government would be sure to make a noise about the affair. Hang
it all, I wish we had just a shade more evidence, and I'd have Draney
behind steel curtains in the guard house before daybreak, for his
plantation is only eight miles out from here. Personally, I haven't a
doubt that Draney is behind all the trouble of which we're hearing
rumors."
"What can be Draney's object?" asked Captain Freeman.
"Perhaps he hasn't really a sane object," responded Cortland. "Whatever
his motive for standing in with the worst of the Moros, and plotting
against the government that we represent, there is sure to be something
that he regards as being in line with his own advantage."
"Everything connected with this fellow, Draney, seems to be a puzzle,"
muttered Lieutenant Hampton.
During this discussion the two youngest officers of all, Lieutenants
Prescott and Holmes, sat listening intently, and looking from face to
face, though neither ventured any opinions. As "youngsters" it was their
place to wait until they were asked to speak.
So notable, in fact, did their silence become that at last Captain
Cortland remarked:
"Mr. Prescott, Mr. Holmes, you know that you are not forbidden to speak
in the presence of your elders."
"I was listening, sir," replied Lieutenant Prescott, with a smile. "I
haven't anything to offer sir, but whatever orders I may receive, I'll
follow them all the way across the island of Mindanao and out into the
ocean as far as I can swim or float."
"That's my answer, too, sir," supplemented Lieutenant Greg Holmes.
"Spoken like soldiers and officers," said Captain Cortland heartily.
And, indeed, these two young officers were soldiers! Young as they were,
they commanded the respect of the men in their companies. B and C
Companies could be depended upon to follow Prescott and Holmes wherever
these two young West Pointers cared to lead them.
"Gentlemen," announced Captain Cortland at last, "we have the two
prisoners in the guard house, and we have a guard over Cerverra's place.
We'll take counsel of the night and of sleep. In the morning, at eight
o'clock, we'll meet here to deliberate further on this puzzling matter.
By the morning our whole duty may be extremely clear to us."
The visiting officers arose, saluted and took their leave.
"That is all for to-night, Sergeant Overton," announced the captain.
"But on one point I want to caution you. You have heard the discussion
here to-night. Do not repeat it to any of the enlisted men."
"No, sir."
"That is all, Sergeant. One of these days I may have the time to tell
you what a fine piece of work you have done for us to-day. Good night,
Sergeant."
"Good night, sir."
The Army boy saluted, receiving his superior's acknowledgment. Then Hal
stepped outside and made his way down the white roadway of ground shell
and went to his own squad room in barracks.
"One point, anyway, is highly satisfactory," mused Sergeant Hal, as he
crawled in under the mosquito netting that hung over his cot. "Vicente
Tomba, the fellow with a dislike for seeing me alive, is safe behind
bars in a guardhouse cell!"
But was he?