"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!"



CHAPTER VIII.

WIGWAGS FROM THE BEACH.

For a long time after the departure of Ned, Jack and Frank sat in the cabin of the Manhattan, looking out on the steady downpour. They were not quite satisfied with their share in the activities of the day. Instead of being housed in the cabin, they preferred an exciting hunt even in the rain, over the hills of the little island in view.

"If we stand for it," grumbled Jack, "we'll have to spend most of our time keeping house! Jimmie will scatter himself all over the Asiatic division of the map, and Ned will spend most of his time looking him up!"

Frank laughed at this outbreak of ill humor, although he was as anxious as his chum to be on the firing line.

"I wish we'd not taken the Manhattan," Jack continued. "I'm the only one in the party that can operate it, and I'll be tied down like a galley slave!"

"Go it!" laughed Frank. "Growl your head off, if you want to, Mr. Black Bear! Instead of snarling, why don't you tell me what makes the boat go when you do something to the wheel and that switch?"

"I thought you owned a launch?" said Jack.

"Father bought me one," was the reply, "but I've never learned how to run it. I'm too fat to bother my head about such things!"

"Then what are you asking me about the mechanism of the thing for?" asked Jack. "If you don't want to know, what's the use of my telling you how to run a motor boat? You make me weary!"

"If I had a nice little temper like yours," Frank grinned, "I'd go and bump my head against a tree! Come, old man, tell me about the boat. I may want to run it some time, after you get caught by a cat or filled full of poisoned arrows! Come! honest! What makes it go?"

"And you don't even know the action of a gasoline engine?" exclaimed Jack, in better humor. "Well, I'll tell you. A jet of gasoline, which is thinner than water, is sprayed, as one would spray any liquid from an atomizer, into the chamber of the engine cylinder-head, which it reaches in the form of vapor, having been mixed with air."

"That's all simple!"

"Here the vapor is compressed by the rising piston, and when it is squeezed up as close as it can be an electric spark is introduced into the chamber. That is what the electric battery and gear are for."

"I was wondering why one had to have electricity and gasoline both," said Frank, very much interested in the simple recital.

"The result of the introduction of the spark is the explosion of the compressed vapor, which sends the piston downward. The motion turns the shaft, and that turns the boat's propeller."

"Easy as pie."

"This operation is repeated from two to six hundred times a minute," Jack went on, "and that causes the continuous action of the machinery which sends the boat along."

"What is there about that so complicated?" demanded Frank. "Everybody you hear talking of an engine seems to speak as if it were one of the mysteries of the universe."

"It is usually the electric system which gets out of order," was the reply, "but sometimes the gasoline section balks. A man often has to try so many different things when his engine stops that he actually does not know which one remedies the evil and sets the thing in motion."

"All right!" Frank said. "Now show me how to start the thing."

"That's easy. First turn on your gasoline, as you would turn water from a faucet into a kitchen sink. The gasoline fills the carbureter, which is the thing which feeds the engine automatically. Then you turn on your electricity by shifting a switch. That is to supply the spark. Then turn the fly-wheel two or three times so as to get the vapor into the cylinder and secure the first explosion. That is all there is to it. I hope you do learn to run this boat, so I can get away now and then!"

"You may get away farther than you want to!" cautioned Frank.

The Manhattan was a plain, usable boat, twenty-five feet long and ten feet wide, with bow and stern rather square in order to make more room inside. The cabin was ten feet long, with strong oak sides and brass-rimmed ports for light and ventilation. The cockpit, or outdoor sitting room, was of the same length as the cabin.

The engine was a plain, solidly built machine, with two cylinders, and rated at ten horsepower, with a speed of fifteen miles an hour. It was installed under a short bridge-deck in front of the cabin, while the gasoline tanks, holding fifty gallons, were hidden under the cockpit seats.

The cabin had two wide slatted berths, supplied with hair mattresses, a movable table, an ice chest, a small coal range—the boat was not designed especially for tropical use—an ice-chest and an alcohol stove for cooking. The storage lockers and water tanks had a capacity of a week's supply of stores for four persons. It was a government boat, and was in good repute as a racer in and about Manila, in spite of its blunt bow and wide beam.

Frank pottered away at the machinery until he announced that it was like taking candy away from the children to run it, and then the two retired to the cabin to get rid of their wet garments.

"Ned and Jimmie are having a good soaking," Jack said, his ill humor all gone, as he soused his wet underclothing in a tub of sea water. "I wish they'd come home."

A dull thump, as of a canoe striking the motor boat, and a quick step on the prow caused both boys to spring to their feet.

"There they come now!" Jack cried, glancing out into the slanting rain, "and it's good and wet they are."

The boy was about to step forward and open the cabin door when Frank caught him by the shoulder.

"Wait!" he said. "Look there!"

Jack followed the pointing finger with his eyes and saw half a dozen Filipinos clambering into the cockpit, and also saw the muzzles of American-built rifles covering the cabin door.

"Get your gun!" Jack whispered.

"We've got to do something besides shoot," Frank said. "They have the drop on us. We should have been looking out for an attempt at surprise."

There was a moment's silence, and then a man enveloped from neck to heels in a heavy raincoat and sweating tremendously in consequence, advanced to the cabin door.

"Never mind the guns!" he said, through the glass. "My men have you covered, and it would be a pity to shoot two likely boys!"

"What do you want?" demanded Frank.

"We want this boat," was the reply.

"Well, you've got it!" Jack said, angrily.

"Of course we have," was the reply. "We seem to be getting about everything we want in this corner of the world! Where are the others?"

"Gone after a battleship!" declared Jack.

The man grinned and, opening the cabin door, stepped inside. He was tall, rather slender, with clean-cut features and bright gray eyes. His bearing was that of a gentleman, and Frank began to have an indefinable idea that he had met him before somewhere, just where he could not decide. The fellow evidently was an American, though his followers seemed to be Chinese and Filipinos.

"So he's gone after a battleship, has he?" the intruder said, shutting the cabin door behind him, after making sure that his men were standing at attention with their guns. "Do they pick battleships off trees up on the hill?"

"I don't see anything funny about it," Jack said, sourly. "Who do you mean by 'he'? What do you know about the crew of the boat?"

"I've heard of Mr. Ned Nestor," was the calm reply, "and was hoping to meet him here. However, you seem to be cheerful young fellows, and a cruise with you may not result in lost time. You are Jack Bosworth and Frank Shaw. Which one is Shaw, and which one is Bosworth?"

"I'm Shaw," answered Frank, somewhat amused at the cool impudence of the man. "What is your name?"

"I'm French," was the reply. "Not French tribally but just French. One of the sort of Frenchmen who are born of Irish parents in the city of Chicago! Anyway, you may call me French. That is near enough."

"You seem to be an amusing sort of a character," observed Frank. "What are you going to do with the Manhattan?"

"Why," was the smiling reply, "there is a sort of a political convention called for that hill over there, and some of the delegates are slow in coming. So I thought I'd borrow your boat and go and fetch them. They are not far away. Some of them, in fact, live on islands, not more than four or five hundred miles off."

"That will be nice!" Frank said, falling into the mood of the other. "Only you can't carry many native chiefs in this boat, not if they insist on bringing their wives and attendants along. Suppose one should insist on appearing before the convention riding in state on the back of a white elephant?"

"Never thought of that," replied the other with a grin, "but how did you learn that the delegates were to be native chiefs?"

"I guess most everybody knows what kind of a game you're playing," Frank said with a grin which he intended to be provoking. "When you get your delegates assembled, Uncle Sam will give you an imitation of a man shooting up traitors."

"We'll have to take our chances on that," replied French, with apparent good nature. "In the meantime, we'll have to ask you to vacate the boat while we make our collection of delegates. I presume that you can get along very well on shore. Only be careful that the little brown men don't pot you with their funny little guns."

"Oh, we'll get along with the little brown men, all right," growled Jack. "When are you going to put us ashore?"

"Well," was the cool reply, "I want to wait here until I form the acquaintance of Mr. Ned Nestor and Mr. James McGraw. I have long felt a desire to meet them!"

"They'll feel proud, I know!" Jack said, provokingly. "Pirates and traitors are not so thick that it is not a pleasure to meet them. We'll all remember, after you are all hanged, that we met you here."

"Thank you!" replied French, not at all indignant at the remark, "and now if you'll hand over the guns you have, and tell me where the others are hidden, you can walk about the boat in comparative freedom while we get supper. You see it is beginning to get dark, and I'm hungry."

There was nothing to do but to comply with the polite request, and soon the intruders were making themselves at home all over the boat. French brought one of the Filipinos into the cabin, where he sat with his gun pointing ominously at the boys whenever they moved toward the door, while the others were stationed on the prow, where they sat stolidly in the rain, with their guns under their coarse coats to keep them dry.

"Rather a scanty supply of provisions!" French said, as he investigated the lockers. "I really think I'll have to send one of my men ashore for dinner. Two men with perfectly good guns and eyesight ought to be able to keep us on friendly terms here. Besides, it seems a waste of good material to feed those fellows from this choice stock when they prefer boiled dog."

"Say, French," Jack said, "if you weren't crooked enough to make a corkscrew look like a straight-edge, you'd be a pretty good sort of a chap to go on a cruise with."

"Oh, I'm all right when I'm not abused," French replied. "If Dad had presented me with a million instead of a thirst for other people's property, I'd have had my name in the society columns every day! Isn't it about time for Ned and Jimmie to come home?" he added. "If you don't mind, I'll run the boat out a little farther, so they'll have to call and signal when they do come."

"They should have been here long ago," was the reply.

"I must insist that you remain perfectly quiet when they do come," French said, after the boat had changed position, in a moment. "I don't want to spoil this pretty boat with dark stains. Perhaps, however, they have been captured."

"You would know if they had, wouldn't you?" asked Jack.

"Why, no, I think not. You see I have just arrived, coming in the second launch, now over there in the bay. I did not go to the camp, but edged around the hill with half a dozen men in order to see if all was safe. We've got some pretty high-up men in this game with us, and I'm afraid Wall street would stand up on its hind legs and howl if their names were known. Hence this caution."

French seemed to be a college educated man and a gentleman by instinct. While they were preparing supper he amused them with stories of his travels and adventures, and both boys heartily wished he was with them as a friend instead of an enemy. When it grew dark he sent all the Filipinos away but two, and they sat down to a good meal.

Frank questioned French, cautiously of course, but could gain little information from him. The fellow seemed fully aware of the purpose of the boy, and replied to his questions with the most extravagant stories of the empire that was to be raised in the Philippines after the United States protectorate had ceased.

"You're a queer chap," Frank said, at the conclusion of one of French's stories of the grandeur of the coming empire, "and I'd like to hear you spin yarns all night, but, if you don't mind, I'll go to bed."

"Just as you like," was the amiable reply. "I'll sit here and smoke a few more cigarettes and then follow your example. It is such a wild night that your friends may have stopped at a down-town hotel!"

"Perhaps they've stepped over to the Waldorf!" Jack replied.

The lads occupied the same bunk, and talked in whispers all through the night. They had no idea what had become of Ned and Jimmie except the supposition that they had been captured by their enemies. French retired about midnight, as calmly as if he were in his own rooms, leaving the two Filipinos on guard in the cabin.

Once Frank arose and tried to slip out, his idea being to reach the shore and look for his chums, but the brown men lifted their guns automatically as he looked out on them. All through the night they sat unblinkingly, looking out in the dim light much as glass eyes might have looked out of the head of a wooden image.

"We're sure in a bad box," Jack whispered, after this attempt at escape. "I don't believe they'll turn us loose on the island, knowing what we know. They won't take any chance of our getting away! If Ned was free, he'd have been here before this, so we may as well make up our minds that he's in trouble also."

With daylight came a cessation of the storm, and soon the sun was shining smotheringly down on the little bay. Sweltering in the cabin, Frank looked out of a port and saw a pole lifted above a clump of low bushes just back from the distant beach. As he looked the pole moved forward and back, then to the right, ducking three times and coming back to a vertical position. The pole wavered to right and left and to the front for a time, and the boy waved his hand from the open port.

"Wigwag!" he whispered. "It says: 'Brace up!' That's Jimmie!"



CHAPTER IX.

TWO KEYS TO THE TREATY BOX.

The relief of the boys at the information conveyed by the wigwag signals from the shore may well be imagined. The night had been a long and trying one, and they had about abandoned hope when the signals came.

The presence of Ned and Jimmie on the beach meant not only that they were still safe, but that there was a possibility of rescuing the Manhattan from the courteous pirate who had seized it. They did not know exactly how this could be accomplished, but they had every confidence in Ned's courage and resourcefulness.

The boys knew, however, that what was done must be undertaken at once, for the Filipinos who had been sent away from the boat the night before had doubtless communicated with French's friends on the island, and it was natural that they, the friends, should hasten down to the little bay soon after sunrise to look over the fortunate capture made by French.

They heard French stirring in his bunk while they were talking over plans for the rescue, and ceased whispering immediately. They knew that Ned, probably from the presence of the Filipinos, who were drying themselves in the scorching sunshine, understood the situation on board. In fact, they realized that Ned and Jimmie would have come aboard at once if they had not received an inkling of what was going on by the change of position.

French arose, yawning, and looked lazily out of a port. He was a muscular fellow, evidently in first-class condition physically, so it was useless to attempt to overpower him, regain their weapons, and drive the Filipinos off the boat. Jack seemed to think that if they could both get hold of him they might accomplish something, but there were the guards to reckon with while the fight was in progress.

So they gave up all idea of rescue until Ned should show his hand. French glanced keenly about the cabin and then went out into the cockpit, taking a seat on the bridge deck and scanning the shore critically. The pole which had been used to convey the wigwag signals was now out of sight.

"Can you boys operate this boat?" he finally asked.

Jack was about to reply in the affirmative but Frank lifted a warning hand.

"No," the latter said, telling the falsehood brazenly. "Ned is the only one who can run it."

"Can't you start the engine?" French asked, anxiously.

The boys shook their heads.

"Then I'm going to try," French said. "As I hinted last night, when I told you I came here in a launch, there are other motor boats around the corner, in a bay on the western side of the island. I have only to get to them. There are plenty of men there who can do the job."

"I hardly think it safe for one who knows nothing of engines to fool with one," said Jack. "Suppose I see what I can do with it. I've seen Ned work the thing, and may be able to start it."

"Try it!" French said. "But if you make any foolishness with it, you'll find yourself in trouble. Understand?"

"I don't want to ruin the boat!" Jack said. "We're going to have fun with this craft before we leave it!" he added, with a grin.

"Then you'll have to hurry and have your fun," said French, "for you're going to leave it as soon as we get to the bay where the other boats are."

Jack opened a trap in the cockpit seat and placed his hand on the jar which supplied the electricity for the spark. French was watching him, but he managed to draw the wires out without being seen. This, of course, effectually crippled the boat. He fumbled for a time with his hand on the jar, watching the shore as he did so, and then closed the trap.

After closing the trap Jack turned the fly-wheel a few times, pounded away with a wrench, and inspected the gasoline tanks, but of course no motion was transmitted to the shaft. Finally he threw down the wrench in apparent disgust.

"I can't do anything with it!" he exclaimed. "You'll have to wait until Ned comes if you can't start it yourself."

"It is my impression," said French, with a smile, "that your friend Ned is trussed up in a camp over on the other side of the island!"

"Then why don't you send for him, or for some one else to run the boat?" asked Frank innocently, his purpose being to induce French to send one of the guards away, and so reduce the force to be opposed.

"From out of the mouths of children," laughed French. "Well, you know the rest! I have an idea that you have solved the problem."

He talked in Spanish to one of the men for a moment, and the fellow rowed ashore in one of the canoes the captors had come in and set off through the jungle. The boys watched the thickets, hoping to see some sign of a struggle. They were sure that Ned would capture the guard, and so, possibly, delay the appearance of French's friends.

But all was quiet along the coast. Ned evidently had some other plan in mind. In a few moments French proposed breakfast and entered the cabin, relying on the guard to keep the boys out of mischief. As they had no weapons, he did not believe they would make any trouble. Besides, he kept a sharp lookout through the low, open doorway of the little cabin.

Then Frank became possessed of what Ned afterwards declared to be the one brilliant idea of his life! First he asked the guard if he could speak English.

"Understan' some; speak little," was the reply.

"Well," Frank went on, "I'm going to take my morning exercises. See if you have anything like this in your blooming land!"

"Bloomin' lan' Good! She bloom!"

The Filipino pointed away to the mass of tropical blossoms shimmering in the sunlight and grinned at what he doubtless considered a very sharp reply. French, hearing the voices, looked out of the cabin and smiled at the antics the boy was making.

Frank threw his body into a vertical position and bent sharply off to the right. Then back to vertical and off to the left. Then back and to the right again.

"That's all right!" cried French from the cabin. "You appear to be a nimble little chap. What are those exercises for?"

"To bring all the muscles of the body into use!" replied Frank, winking at Jack, who was just beginning to understand the purpose of the sudden demand for exercise.

"Blessed if he ain't doing the wigwag with his body!" thought Jack. "That is the letter 'C'."

From the vertical Frank then dropped his body over to the left, then to the right and stopped.

"That's wigwag for 'O'," thought Jack. "I wonder what he means to say?"

"Well done!" shouted French, his hands full of tinned goods. "I'll get you a job in a circus when I get done with you!"

"That will be fine!" Frank replied, facing French with as innocent a face as a boy ever carried.

One to the right, two to the left, one to the right, and Jack read the letter "M" and saw what the next one would be. One to the right, one to the left, and Jack read the letter "E." Then three slow motions straight in front, then to vertical again.

"That means the end of the word," the boy thought, "and the word is 'COME.' Now, I wonder if he will?"

Frank kept up his odd motions, at which the Filipino seemed greatly amused, and French turned away to the alcohol stove to prepare a cup of hot cocoa. But the motions were only for effect now, and meant nothing. There was a light movement in the thicket, and three figures, crawling low, entered the canoe which the guard had left the Manhattan in and moved noiselessly toward the boat.

The Filipino's back was turned to the beach, for he was watching Frank. French was busy with his cocoa, condensed cream, and sugar, and so the advancing canoe was not observed until it was within a few feet of the boat. Then the guard uttered a cry of warning and raised his gun.

Frank was ready for this and the distance between himself and the guard was well calculated. He launched himself like a catapult-dart against the slim figure, and was fortunate enough to seize the gun. Frank was an adept at the Japanese ju-jitsu game, and, much to the astonishment of the Filipino, he soon found himself, minus his gun, dropping to the bottom of the bay.

French, of course, started out of the cabin, revolver in hand, but when he stooped his tall figure in the low doorway he did not straighten it again as readily as he had expected to. Jack was on the back of his neck and shoulders, pressing him down to the bridge deck. But French was a strong man and Jack would have soon been thrown aside had Frank not engaged him.

When Ned, Pat and Jimmie sprang out of the canoe and gained the cockpit, the three were in a tangle, with Frank sitting on the hand which held the weapon. French surrendered the revolver and sat up with a sickly grin on his face when he saw the three bending over him, ready to take a hand in the proceedings.

"You win!" he said. "I know when I hold the low hand!"

"Didn't I tell you," Frank said, as soon as he could catch his breath, "that the motions you saw were calculated to bring the muscles of the body into action? Well, they did, didn't they?"

"Rather!" French replied. "Now, if you'll pull this ambitious young man off my back, I'll get into an easier position."

"You're a good fellow," Jack said, "and I'll do as you say, only you've got to behave yourself, you know."

French, looking as calm as when he had held the upper hand, arose and seated himself on the bridge deck, looking Ned over keenly as he did so.

"You didn't figure on getting into a mix-up with a lot of wild animals, did you?" asked Ned, with a smile. "These two Black Bears gave you quite a squeeze, eh?"

"Rather!" was the short reply. "Say, gentlemen," he went on, "if you'll kindly step to one side I'll time that Filipino as he plows through the jungle. I can't see him, but I can see the bushes make way for him. Believe me, at this time to-morrow he'll still be running!"

"He went up in the air some!" Pat said. "How did you ever do that, Cully? He shot up into the blue and then dove straight down into the bottom. Most wonderful thing I ever saw."

"That," answered Frank, with a grin, "was a Boy Scout hint that his presence was not needed here."

"This," said Jimmie, pointing to Pat, "is Pat Mack, the loafer we were talkin' about the other night. He placed the signals in grass. You wouldn't think to look at him, that he was very bright, except his hair, but he is quite intelligent at times."

Jimmie dodged as Pat made for him and promptly fell overboard. The boys fished him out and Frank scolded him for mussing up the cockpit!

"The little rascal deserved it," said Pat. "I'm deserving of a more formal introduction, being of the Wolf Patrol, of the city of New York."

"Huh!" said Jimmie. "I found him tied up like a calf in a butcher's wagon, and had to cut him loose. Then Ned found him in the teeth of a dog an' had to shoot the dog! I don't think he's so much-a-much!"

Shouts were now heard coming from the jungle, and it became evident that the guard who had been thrown out of the boat had encountered others who were proceeding to the bay to inspect the wonderful prize secured by French, as reported by the Filipinos sent away the night before.

Ned suggested to Jack that he get the Manhattan under motion at once, as she lay within easy reaching distance of the shore. Jack replaced the wires in the jar and the propeller was soon singing a merry tune to the waters of the bay.

"You got the engine in order quick!" French suggested.

"Of course," Jack replied. "Did you have any idea that I would help you steal our Uncle Sam's boat?"

"Take to your heels," Ned directed, as soon as the boat was fairly out of the little harbor. "It won't take long for the news to get to the other boats, and they will, of course, pursue us. Can they overtake us?" he asked, turning to French.

"They can make about fifteen miles an hour," was the reply. "What can you make?"

"Rather more than that, under pressure," was the reply.

French sat easily on the bridge deck as the Manhattan glided away. He appeared to be as thoroughly satisfied with the situation as when he was the captor instead of the captive. When Frank related the story of the night, in his presence, he laughed and asked for the wigwag code which Frank had used.

"So that is the meeting of the chiefs?" Ned asked. "They are there to sign the treaty of rebellion?"

"Something of the sort," was the reply. "At least, they were there to pass upon the treaty. Now, they'll duck. That is, they will if you boys succeed in getting away from them."

"Do you know where they will go?" asked Ned.

"Look here," French said, "I'm not in a position to tell you anything about what they may or may not do. I rather like you boys, and I'd tell you all I know if I could do so decently. But I can't. To be frank with you, I'm wishing you'll outrun the boats that will come after you. I have had my pay for what I've done for the rebels, and the money is buried with a friend at Hong Kong. I don't care about meeting them again, to tell you the truth, and this being captured is an easy way out of it. Now, I'll give you my parole not to try to get away, not to try any tricks, if you let me walk about as I please."

"He's all right!" Jack put in. "He's a good fellow, all right. I vote that we give him his freedom."

"Here, too!" cried Frank.

"But I don't want my freedom!" French said. "At least not until you can land me where these pirate chiefs can't get hold of me. I imagine they would blame me for the trouble they're in."

"They are meeting to sign the treaty of rebellion," Ned said. "Now, perhaps you can tell me when the war is to begin?"

"Right away."

"Who drew the treaty?" asked the boy.

"Some chap high up!" laughed French.

"And who has possession of it?"

"There are two keys to the box. One is held by the author of the treaty."

"And the other?" asked Ned with a knowing smile.

"By the American in charge of the party on the island," answered French. "Let me tell you this, though," he added, "you'll never see the treaty, even if you win. Also, you'll never know the name of the author of it, or the name of the man who has the second key to the treaty box. You've found out something about the conspiracy against the government, but you'll never know who organized it, or why!"



CHAPTER X.

A HOT NIGHT IN YOKOHAMA.

Ned Nestor stood on the deck of the steamship, and the steamship was entering the harbor of Yokohama, which opens from Tokyo bay, the bay from the Sagani Sea, the sea from the Pacific ocean. In the cabin of the steamship were Frank Shaw, Jack Bosworth and Jimmie McGraw. While Ned looked over the city they were approaching the three boys came to his side.

None of them had ever looked upon a Japanese city before. The scene before them was one well calculated to excite their interest and appeal to their imagination. The fishing junks sailing over the glassy waters of the bay did not seem at all like any fishing boats they had ever seen before.

The colored wooden roofs of the town seemed to have been cut out from a picture book of fairy tales. The narrow streets in sight from the deck seemed steep and not too straight. The buildings seemed to lap over on each other. To the west, standing straight up in the sky, as it seemed, loomed the pile of Oyama mountain. To the north showed the roofs of Kanagawa.

Night fell while they gazed at the unfamiliar scene, and the lanterns on the sampans, bound for the customs hatoba, glistened over the bay like fireflies. The shampooer's whistles drifted out on the offshore breeze.

"Doesn't look much like coming into little old New York!" Frank exclaimed.

"Queer lookin' country!" Jimmie added.

"I'd rather be back in the Manhattan, among the islands north of Luzon," Jack observed. "I don't like this smell of the Orient they talk so much about."

"Not much Orient about this!" Ned said.

"I hope we'll get out of it before long," Jack went on. "I'm hungry for the wash of the China Sea."

"We'll have a little China Sea made for you, an' tuck it away in Central Park," Jimmie laughed.

"All right!" replied Jack. "I wonder why some one didn't think of that before! Fine scheme!"

On leaving the bay where such an eventful night had been passed, the boys had driven the Manhattan at full speed directly to Manila. The boat was rather small for such a trip, but it had behaved nobly, and the lads had enjoyed the trip immensely.

They had for a time been pursued by the launches which had anchored on the opposite side of the little island, but the chase had soon been abandoned, as the Manhattan was the fastest boat of the three.

On the way to Manila, Ned had held several long conversations with French, but had gained little information from him. He corroborated what little was known regarding the conspiracy for the establishing of a native government on the Philippines, but would not reveal what he knew of the interests interested or of the men at the head of the movement.

At Manila, French had been released on parole at the urgent request of Frank and Jack, who had formed a liking for the courteous gentleman who had treated them so kindly during the few hours he had been their jailer. French, however, had promised to remain at Manila and to report daily at military headquarters.

"I don't understand what his share in the plot is, or has been," Ned had explained, "but it is evident that he will be needed only as a witness."

At Manila Ned had held a long conference with Major John Ross, and that gentleman had seemed overjoyed at the report the boy had presented, especially as it made his return to the group of islands to the north unnecessary. After remaining in Manila one day and a night, Ned had been directed to continue his investigation of the case in his own way.

To tell the truth, Major John Ross and the military men with whom Ned conferred at Manila treated the employment of the boy by the authorities at Washington as a good deal of a joke, as a whim. They were not discourteous to Ned, but they took no interest in his suggestions. For some hours after his departure, his employment on the case was the subject of many sarcastic remarks.

However, those in charge had consented to hold the Manhattan subject to his orders, and had promised to give any communications received from him due attention. And this was the situation when the boy, following clues secured at the nipa hut and hints obtained from Pat, who had kept his ears open during his captivity, and from French, had sailed away for Japan with his chums on a steamer which was leaving Manila for Yokohama. Pat Mack, released from service by the effort of Major Ross, at his own request, had been left at Manila in charge of the Manhattan.

The boys landed shortly after dark and proceeded to a hotel where the English language or something like it was spoken. Everything was new and strange, the place being as unlike a Broadway hotel as it is possible to imagine. However, the meals were served in half-American fashion, and the rooms were tolerably comfortable.

"Now," Ned said, after their first meal in Yokohama was over, "we did not come here to visit the palaces of the wealthy, or to inspect the United States consulate. We've got to get down into the slums a bit if we find what I want. The man who led the party that captured Lieutenant Rowe was sent away as soon as he got to his masters. You doubtless understand why. They did not want him implicated in the plot."

"How do you know?" asked Jimmie. "You didn't see him go, did you?"

"Then he must be up some," Jack said.

"And he left Manila on a boat bound for Yokohama," Frank added. "I know about that, for French gave me a valuable tip. And he was accompanied by an American sailor with a thirst for strong drink."

"I guess you've got the idea, all right," Ned said, with a smile. "But I did not state the case exactly as it is. I said that the man who led the party against Lieutenant Rowe was sent away. I should have said that the man suspected of having been at the head of that expedition had mysteriously disappeared from Manila on the very day of his return there after an absence unaccounted for, and that it was believed he had taken a steamer for Yokohama. I stated my conclusions as facts."

"And there was an American sailor with him," insisted Frank.

"Yes, an, American sailor who evidently knew too much. At least, that is the way I figure it out. Now, we are not looking for this high-brow at this time, but for the American sailor."

"That makes it all the pleasanter!" Jack said. "We'll have a chance to see life in Japan as it is. I'd feel better about this little outing, though, if I knew just what has become of Lieutenant Rowe."

"I often wish we had tried to release him," Ned replied, "but we were lucky to get off with whole hides. Anyway, Pat says they were to release him in a short time, after the plot is perfected. All they wanted was his dispatches, and they will hold him captive only because his release might lead to the premature discovery of the meeting of chiefs on the island."

"Well, let us get busy with the underworld of Japan," Jack said. "I'll bet we find plenty of American sailors with thirsts."

On a dark night in Yokohama the houses in the section visited by the boys look very much alike. They are drygoods box affairs, two stories high, with peaked roofs, paper walls and narrow piazzas. All the shops are looking for the American sailor.

Ned secured an interpreter, and the boys strolled through a dozen or more cheap joints before they came to a halt and sat down. The places were all alike. There was split matting on the floors, always, and sailors drinking at little tables. There was always a fair grade of tea, always sake, always a wheezy graphophone.

One might also buy whiskey, ale and other intoxicating drinks. And there were also the geisha dances and the nesans running up stairs and down with their little white socks and flowery skirts, carrying refreshments. There were also men in kimonos and cowboy hats, the former to give the Japanese color and the latter to inform customers that the American trade was catered to!

"How you goin' to know this American sailor when you find him?" asked Jimmie, as the boys sat with steaming cups of tea before them.

"I have his photograph," laughed Ned.

"Let's see it!" cried Jack.

"I'll bet it's a mental photograph!" Jimmie went on. "That is the only kind Ned carries."

"What does he look like?" asked Frank.

"Yes; tell us. We may see him first!" urged Jimmie.

"He's short, and very broad across the shoulders, with one shoulder lower than the other. He is quite bald, and there is a cicatrice on his left cheek where a Malay cut him. There is a squint in one of his eyes, and there is a scar along the ball of his right thumb."

"Quit your kiddin'!" said Jimmie. "You never saw him."

"Pat saw him," was the reply, "and French and some of the military people at Manila saw him. He left with the man whose acquaintance I want to make, or just before him."

"Seems like looking for a needle in a haymow," Frank said, "but I'll wager my hat against a swipe in the jaw that we find him."

"'We!'" repeated Jimmie, with due scorn.

"For instance," Frank said, "what do you think of the fellow over there talking with the man in the kimono and the derby hat of the vintage of 1880?"

"He's short and broad, and one of his shoulders is higher than the other," Jimmie replied.

"Don't attract his attention," Ned warned. "He sat there when we came in, and does not seem to notice us."

"You goin' to geezle him?" asked Jimmie.

"If he were in Manila I certainly should," was the answer, "but it would never answer here. Look!" the lad added. "He seems to be having trouble with one of the waiters."

"He's gone broke, I guess," Jimmie said, "an' there's a kick on his bill."

"An American friend would look pretty good to him now," Ned said thoughtfully.

There was in the mind of the boy a thought that circumstances were favoring him. If he could only befriend the man!

"You don't suppose the fellow he came here with left him in the lurch, do you?" asked Jimmie, something like Ned's thought coming to him. "If he did, why—"

"That's what I've been thinking," Ned replied, "Anyway, I'm going over there and have a talk with him."

"Before you blow yourself on him," laughed Jimmie, "look at the ball of his right thumb an' see if there's a scar there!"

"If he's a sailorman from New York," Jack put in, "he'll eat corn out of your hand, like a billy goat! Go on and talk with him, Ned."

Ned arose to his feet and moved toward the table where the sailor sat. Then he turned back to the boys again.

"If I go away with him," he said, "don't attempt to follow us. Go back to the hotel and wait for me. You understand, now, Jimmie? No chasing out after me! This is not New York!"

"I'll be good!" replied the boy, with a wink at Jack.

"You bet you will!" replied Jack, seizing him by the sleeve. "You don't get away from me to-night. Too much trouble looking you up!"

"What are we to do with that blooming interpreter?" asked Frank, motioning to the Jap, who sat a short distance away, where he could not overhear the talk.

"Take him back to the hotel with you," was the reply, "and hold him there until I come."

There was no little excitement around the table where the sailor sat when Ned approached it. The sailor was talking in English, the waiter was talking in his native tongue, and the bystanders were trying to tell each one what the other was saying.

Ned made out from the pigeon English brought forth by the bystanders that the sailor had run up a large bill and was unable to pay it.

"P'lice come!" one of the officious ones said.

The sailor heard the words and stirred uneasily in his seat. After wiggling about for a moment he removed his cap and scratched a bald head thoughtfully. Ned advanced to his side and laid a hand on his arm, whereat the sailor squirmed as if he anticipated immediate arrest.

"What's the trouble, pard?" the boy asked.

The sailor sat back in his chair and regarded Ned with evident suspicion for a moment, then, observing that his interrogator was only a boy, he extended his hand, his bleary eyes showing the pleasure he felt at the meeting.

"You look mighty good to me!" he said, in the tone and manner of a man who had had educational advantages.

"What's the difficulty?" repeated Ned, taking the hard hand of the other. "I saw the commotion here and thought you might be in trouble. You're an American, I take it?"

"Proud to say yes to that!" replied the other.

"Well, what are they trying to do to you?" asked Ned, taking a chair by his side. "Americans must stand back to back when they meet in a place like this!"

"They don't all do that," was the reply. "My pardner got me here and shook me. I'm broke, and that's all there is to it. Kept buying after I had spent all my money. I guess it is the coop for mine!"

"Perhaps we can fix it up in some way," Ned said. "I'm not a millionaire, but I may be able to help you out. How much do you owe?"

"About two dollars in American money," was the reply. "It is a small sum, but I'm your slave for life if you get me out of this. Ever spend a day in a Japanese jail, waiting for the American consul to get you out?"

"Never did," was the reply. "How are you fixed for lodgings?"

"Got a room up over a tea house," was the reply. "I'm looking for a ship that will take me back to New York."

"Well," Ned said, "I'll pay this bill and go home with you for the night. I'll need free lodgings somewhere after I settle!"

"You'll be as welcome as the flowers of May!" the sailor said, and the boys, still sitting where Ned had left them, saw him hand the waiter some money and leave the place with the sailor.

A moment later, however, they saw a keen-eyed Jap come rushing through the door and up to the table where the sailor had been seated. He talked with the waiter a moment, speaking angrily at last, and darted out of the door again.

"That fellow came after the sailor," Frank said, "and will follow him. When he finds Ned working him for his story he won't do a thing to Ned!"

"An' we'll go back to the hotel, like good little boys, an' sit there knittin' while they pinch Ned an' chuck him into the bay! Not for your uncle!"

"We'd make a hit wandering about Yokohama in the night!" Jack said. "I reckon Ned can take care of himself. Anyway, he's had to go and find you every time you've gone out without him."

But before Jack had finished Jimmie had jerked away and was out in the street.



CHAPTER XI.

A FAIRY HISTORY OF JAPAN.

The shop in which Ned had discovered the object of his search was well down toward the water front, and the course of the sailor was now toward the center of the city. The two passed the customs quarters and the official offices of the city—Yokohama is the old-time treaty port of Japan—and so on to wide streets lined with shops, still alight, though the hour was getting late.

Such quaint little shops Ned had never seen before, and more than once he stopped to look at lacquered ware of rare quality, bronze work, and fancy embroidery. Directly the sailor led the way from the wide streets to the old-time narrow ones in the native quarter, which were not far from the old canal which virtually makes an island of the town.

After proceeding, with hesitating steps, down a particularly dark and foul-smelling street, the sailor paused at a corner, glanced up at a window in a tea-chest of a house which stood flush with the alley-like thoroughfare, and began the ascent of a flight of stairs which swayed under his weight.

On the corner below the tea-house was still open, and the invariable graphophone was grinding out some indistinguishable tune. When the two passed up the dark stairway an attendant slipped out of the public room, walked to the foot of the stairs, and observed the two mounting figures. When the sailor opened the door to as miserable a room as the sun of the Orient ever shone on, the attendant slipped back to the public room and conferred with a keen-eyed, slender man who sat there—a man garbed in the native costume, but bearing in manner and face the stamp of a European!

The sailor closed the door of his room and set a match to a candle which he found on a shelf hanging to a wall. There was nothing in the room, nothing but mats, as it seemed to Ned. There was no table, no chair. Only the mats to sit on and sleep on. The walls were of paper, and Ned saw with pleasure that the whole front of the room, which faced the alley, might be rolled up at will!

The sailor dropped on the floor and fumbled in his clothing for a cigarette.

"Have you got the makings?" he asked, giving up the search at last.

Ned shook his head.

"I have need of all my wits," he said, "and never befuddle my brain with tobacco. It's the curse of the age."

"I've got to have a cigarette," the sailor said. "I'll go crazy if I don't have one! I won't sleep a wink, either!" he whined.

Ned handed him a dime and pointed to the door.

"Go and buy some," he said, knowing that the fellow would be in fighting mood if he was not supplied with the narcotic. "Come back here and smoke."

The sailor looked at the dime sorrowfully, scorning the small piece of silver because it wasn't a dollar, as Ned concluded—pitying himself, too, because it would not buy what he wanted most—liquor!

Ned handed him a quarter and bade him hasten back. With the man's nerves crying out for accustomed stimulants, the boy knew that he could do nothing with him. He must get him into a companionable mood if possible. He dreaded the night, which seemed about to be passed in the fumes of tobacco and liquor, but there was no help for it that he could see.

Presently the sailor came back with a package of cigarettes, gin in a bottle, and a jug of water. He arranged the articles in a half-circle about him when he sat down on a mat. It seemed pitiful to the boy, the sailor's dependence on the nerve-destroying things he looked upon as necessary to his comfort. Only for these, only for their constant use for years, the man might have been honored and respected and possessed a home among his kind instead of being an object of contempt in a foreign port.

"Here's to the Flowery Kingdom!" the sailor said, the bottle at his lips. "Here's life to you, not existence! What's your name?" he added, stopping in the midst of a grin which wrinkled his dissipated face horribly to cast a glance of suspicion on the boy sitting in pity before him. "My name," he added, without waiting for Ned to reply to his question, "is Brown—B-R-O-W-N."

"Glad to make your acquaintance, Mr. Brown," Ned said. "One is always glad to meet Americans in a place like this. Now," he went on, resolved to have his talk out before the sailor became too befuddled to talk coherently, "you spoke about wanting to get back to New York. Well, the Fultonia leaves for New York by way of Manila, to-morrow afternoon, and I may be able to arrange a passage for you. I'm a friend of the captain's."

"Not on your life! Not by way of Manila!" the sailor cried. "I wouldn't go back to Manila for all the gold there is in Standard Oil! I'm going to lose myself on a wind-jammer! Manila's unhealthy for me!" he added with a wink.

"I wasn't thinking of remaining there," said Ned. "I'm going back to New York."

"Wind-jammer for mine!" Brown insisted. "Why," he added, swinging his bottle of gin in the air, "do you know that I'd like to get inside a boat with wide white wings and sail about the Orient forever! The more I mix with Englishmen and Americans the more I think of the Japs. It was an American that threw me down to-night. I did something for him, and—"

The sailor paused, gave a slight shiver, and looked down at his right hand. Then he brushed it, as if trying to wipe something away that was obstinate and hard to get rid of—some stain like the stain of blood!

"And he left you stranded?" Ned continued "I'm glad I happened along," he added, not caring to say how glad he was, nor how much the meeting might mean to him!

"I did his dirty work!" the sailor went on, his tongue loosened by the liquor. "I did for him what I never did before, what I never will do again! And he went back on me! He threw me down! I'd like to meet him on Roosevelt street, New York! I'd provide against his throwing anyone else down!"

"What did you do for him?" Ned asked, with as innocent a manner as he could assume.

"That's my business!" Brown answered, with a sly wink. "That's between the two of us! If I had him here I'd cut his heart out, and show you how black it is."

The sailor was fast coming under the influence of the gin, and Ned knew that he must keep him talking or he would drop off into drugged slumber. He sounded him on half a dozen subjects, intending to lead him back to the man's connection with the plot, but he would not talk until the subject of Japan was brought up. He seemed to be infatuated with the Flowery Kingdom.

"I know the history of Japan," he said, with a brightening of the eyes. "In the beginning, the world was like an egg in shape. The white became heaven, and the yolk became earth. You may read about it yourself in the book called "The Way of the Gods." Then two Gods descended from heaven, and a son called Omikami was born to them, and his body was so bright that he flew up into the sky and became the sun.

"What do you think of that? He became the sun. And a daughter was born to the two Gods, and she became the moon. The moon you see when the sun goes down. Then the children that were born after these became strong and founded the Empire of Japan. And the original inhabitants were hairy on the body and ate raw meat. You see I know all about it!"

"And Japan may in time acquire all Asia," Ned said, desiring to lead the sailor back to within reaching distance of the subject he was most interested in. "In time the Philippines may belong to Japan."

The sailor winked at Ned mysteriously and flourished his bottle of gin.

"I know!" he cried. "I know! If Japan gets the Philippines she'll have to fight a thousand tribes and the monkeys in the trees! She'll have to fight also the crocodiles in the brooks. 'I could a tale unfold whose lightest word would harrow up thy soul—cause thy two eyes, like stars, to start from their spheres, and thy—.' Say," he said with a laugh, "what do you think of me anyway? You think I've got a jag on, don't you. Never was soberer in my innocent life!"

"If you'll describe this man that threw you down," Ned said, anxious to have done with the by-play, "and tell me where to look for him, I'll go and see what I can do for you. How much was he to give you?"

"Barrels!"

The sailor paused and stretched his hands above his head, the bottle glistening in one of them. "He was to pile the greenbacks up so high—for me to wade in, and wipe my feet on. You can't find him."

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.

"There," said Frank, presently, "no person out there in the bay can get a look at us so long as we remain here."

Indeed the harbor was an ideal hiding place. The stream turned sharply to the east from its northerly course just before it reached the white beach, ran a few yards in that direction, and then turned north once more and emptied into the sea. This placed a dense growth of jungle between the beach and the position taken by the Manhattan, which had passed into the channel running east and west and was effectively screened from view on either side by the growths of the jungle.

As soon as the boat was in the position desired, Ned crossed the arm of land lying between the stream and the beach and looked out with his glass. The Miles passed while he stood there, the American flag flying from her masthead. When he went back to the Manhattan there was a troubled look on his face.

"She's on government service, all right," he said to Pat and Frank, "I saw men in uniform on her deck."

"I didn't see anybody land," said Pat.

"Did she communicate with the shore in any way?" asked Ned.

"Well, there were native boats plying about and they might have taken some of the brown men off to her."

"It is all of a piece with the counterfeit instructions," Ned said. "There is an unknown interest working in this case. If the officers at Manila suspected or had wind of what is going on here, why didn't they send a troop ship and capture the chiefs, and so screen out the men responsible for the conspiracy?"

"That's another thing we've got to find out," Frank said, with a grin. "We've got a good many things to find out!"

"And the first thing to discover," Ned said, "is what has become of the boys."

"Right you are!" cried Pat. "I'll go back to the top of the hill and see if there's any commotion on the island."

"What does the island look like?" asked Frank.

"Looks like a valley with a line of hills shutting it in. Looks like a saucer with a high rim. The dago chiefs are encamped in the middle of the saucer."

"In a thicket, of course?"

"It is quite free from jungle growths down there," was the reply—"so clear that I was able to see the encampment and the people moving about. And I think I saw the treaty box, at that!"

"Treaty box?" laughed Frank. "Don't you ever think these brown men have any box to put their treaty in!"

"What do you think about it, Ned?" asked Pat.

"I hardly think they unlock their pocket-books with keys like the one I found," replied Ned. "And, besides," he added, "the white men back of this conspiracy would naturally want a treaty signed up with all the ceremony that could be hatched up, in order to impress the chiefs. Yes, I think there must be a treaty box!"

"And you think you've got a key to it?" asked Frank.

"I've got a key to something," was the reply.

Frank opened his lips to make some remark, but Ned laid a hand on his arm and drew closer to him so that a low voice might be heard, at the same time motioning to Pat to remain quiet.

"Now, don't move, or turn to look," Ned said, "but in a few seconds, after I have turned away, look, casually, toward the great balete tree which rises above the jungle straight to the south."

Ned turned away directly and faced the jungle to the north.

"What do you see?" he asked, turning toward the boys again but not looking at them.

"Monkeys wiggling in the creepers," Frank said.

"Filipinos," answered Pat.

"How many?" asked Ned.

"Well," replied Pat, "I thought I saw two, but I guess there is only one. We've got to get him," he added.

"Of course!" Frank said. "If we don't, he'll go back to camp and tell about seeing us here; then they'll swarm down on us, and it will be all off with the whole bunch of us. We've got to get him!"

"But how?" asked Pat.

In the short silence that followed all three boys cudgeled their brains for some idea which might serve, but the case was assuming a hopeless aspect when a shrill voice in pretty good English came from the tree.

"Hi, there!" cried the voice.

"If that's Jimmie, made up as a little brown man," Pat said, "I'll beat him up when he comes aboard."

"More likely to be Jack," said Frank.

"Hi, there!" repeated the voice from the tree.

"That's not Jimmie, or Jack either," Ned said. "What do you want?" he asked.

The reply came in the form of a feline growl which might have issued forth from the throat of a wild cat.

"What does the badge say?" asked the voice, then.

The boys looked at each other in wonder for a moment and then Ned answered:

"Be prepared!"

"Now, what do you think of that?" Pat demanded. "What do you think of meeting a Boy Scout out here?"

"What patrol?" asked Frank, half doubting whether the person in the tree would find the correct answer.

"Wild Cat, Manila!" came the reply.

"Then come out of the tree, Wild Cat," Ned laughed, "and tell us how you came to be here."

There was a great rustling of foliage, and then a Filipino boy not more than fourteen years of age appeared on the trunk. He worked his way down and disappeared in the jungle. In a moment, however, he made his appearance on the margin of the little stream and was on board.

He was a rather good looking young fellow, with keen eyes and a lithe, muscular figure. He was well dressed in a suit of light material, and wore a Boy Scout badge on the lapel of his coat.

"We're gettin so we find 'em in the woods!" Frank said, as the boy stepped on the bridge deck. "Did you come to the island on the steamer which just passed here?" he added, as the lad looked about him with a grin.

"Yes," was the reply. "Come as servant."

"Well, why aren't you on board now?" asked Frank, suspiciously.

"Run away!" was the short reply.

"What for?" demanded Frank, determined to know all that there was to know about the new-comer, and urged on by Ned's nods, which told him to proceed.

"Tired of city," was the grinning reply.

As the boy spoke he turned around to the jungle and waved his hand, as if taking it all in at one motion. Then he laid a finger on his own breast and said:

"That for mine!"

"I'm afraid you've been in bad company," laughed Frank. "You're talking slang! What's your name?"

"Minda," was the reply.

"Sounds like a girl's name," grunted Pat. "What are the chiefs doing on the island?"

"Conference," was the reply.

"They're forming a confederacy, are they?"

Minda shook his head and looked perplexed.

"Don't know," he replied.

"Where are the two Scouts who went ashore a long time ago?" asked Ned.

"Tied," replied Minda, crossing his wrists to indicate what he meant.

"That's nice!" Pat broke in. "Where are they?"

Again Minda shook his head, saying that he did not know where the boys were, that they might have been put on board the steamer.

"So the officers on board the steamer communicated with the shore?" asked Ned.

"Yes; that's how I got away," was the reply.

"Do the officers know what is going on?" continued Ned. Again Minda shook his head.

"I reckon you're off there," Pat exclaimed. "They do know, and the man in charge on board the steamer is a traitor! I know him!"

Again the Filipino looked puzzled.

"Good man!" he said, and sat down on the bridge deck.

"Do you really believe the boys were put on board the steamer?" asked Frank of Ned, in a moment.

"I think the native chiefs would put us all on board the steamer, if they could do so," was the reply.

Then the patrol leader turned to Minda again.

"What did the steamer come down here for?" he asked.

"Patrol," was the reply.

"On no special mission?" Ned went on.

"Just to patrol," was the reply.

"I don't believe it!" Frank burst out. "That boat was sent down here to investigate this conspiracy matter, and the man in command is making a perfunctory job of it. He'll then go back to Manila and report nothing doing!"

"And the conspiracy will go on, and there'll be war!" Pat added.

"Just so!" Frank commented.

"Well," Ned said, "we can't find out whether you are right or not by asking the officers, either on the steamer or at Manila. We've got to find out by watching the brown men! We've got to leave the Manhattan here and go into the jungle and see what is going on, and find out what company the chiefs receive. It is my idea that some of the men in uniform are leading double lives!"



CHAPTER XIV.

THE SENATOR'S SON SEEKS A KEY.

Jimmie and Jack were lying behind a great flowing vine which swung from a balete tree, looking keenly out in the direction in which they believed the camp to be situated, when four lusty men who appeared to be Filipinos crept noiselessly out of the jungle and sat down on their backs with chuckles of satisfaction.

"Quit it!" roared Jimmie, thinking they had been followed from the boat.

Then he saw it was no joke, for Jack was floundering about, and one of the little brown men was tying his hands with a hard cord. He flopped over on his back and looked up into the sinister face of a native.

"What's comin' off here?" demanded the boy, trying hard to get a glimpse of Jack from where he lay.

"We're pinched!" Jack called out.

Then the two were dragged hastily to their feet and pushed through the jungle toward the camp. Jimmie thought this a place for optimism, and decided to try it on the low-browed chap who was rather rudely forcing him along. "I was just thinking of going down to see your camp," he said with a grin, "but I didn't know the way exactly. I'm glad you happened along. I've got the left hind foot of a rabbit that was caught by a black cat at midnight, in the dark of the moon, in a negro cemetery, on the grave of a black man who was hanged for murder. Guess that's brought me luck."

"You'll need four rabbits' feet if you get out of this," Jack grumbled. "Suppose we take a quick hike for the boat, right now?" he added, believing the Filipinos would not be able to understand English.

In this he was mistaken, for one of the men said:

"Don't you ever try it. Your left hind foot won't protect you if you do."

The boys gazed about the group, now halted, trying to pick out the speaker.

"But this is a magic rabbit-foot," Jimmie retorted, scornfully as if any sane person ought to know of the virtues of a left hind rabbit-foot. "It used to be owned by an armless man who rowed over the Great American Desert in an open boat!"

This, of course, was all for the purpose of inducing the one who had spoken in English to speak again, in order that he might be sorted out of the others. Jimmie's imaginative powers proved equal to the occasion.

A man who, regarded closely, did not look at all like a Filipino—a slender, though broad-shouldered, man with sharp gray eyes and the awkward manner of one unused to disguise—laughed lightly at the boy's odd conceit and said:

"That will be about enough of that Bowery lingo. What are you boys doing here?" he added.

"We came over to see about puttin' up a couple of skyscrapers!" replied Jimmie. "The air seems nice an' high here. Guess we wouldn't have to push it up any to build fifty stories. Where you takin' us?" he went on. "If I owned this shrubbery we're borin' through, I'd have it manicured."

"Where did you leave the Manhattan?" asked the other, without taking the trouble to answer Jimmie's question.

"We didn't leave her," Jimmie lied, cheerfully arguing with himself that it wasn't any of the other man's business where they had left the boat. "She's left us, an' gone off on a cruise to the South; left us to reign on this island. She'll be back in a couple of days, an' then you'll get what's comin' to you."

"I'm glad you took over the government of the island," the other laughed. "Only for your appearance here we should not have known about the Manhattan being in these waters. Now we can look her up. We have a steamer here for that purpose."

"I guess I ought to have remained on board," Jimmie said, ruefully.

"It is a wonder that Nestor permitted you to leave the boat," observed the other. "It is said of the lad that he makes few mistakes," he went on, glancing from one boy to the other.

"So you know Ned, do you?" asked Jack. "Well, you know a good fellow. If you stay about here you'll be likely to know more about him before long."

"Oh, I mean to remain," was the cool reply. "Nestor is wanted at Manila for disobeying orders, and I'll take him along with me when I go. There's a steamer out here looking for him."

The boys knew that Ned had left Manila in defiance of the orders of Major John Ross, but they did not believe that a steamer had been sent out to arrest him. They knew that he had received his original orders from Washington, and believed that when Ross communicated with the authorities there he would be instructed to keep his hands off so far as Ned was concerned.

The man was, of course, lying, doubtless in the hope of creating the impression in the minds of the boys that he was still in the service of the government, and there on official business. The boys had no fear of their leader being taken back to Manila under arrest. They were more concerned for his life if he fell into the hands of this traitor.

"You know a fat lot about it," Jack said, disdainfully. "What you know about Ned's business won't swell your head any. Where's this steamer you're talking about?"

"I suspect," replied the other, "that she is now circling the island in order to pick up the Manhattan. Nestor was wrong to run away with a government boat. He'll serve time for it, I reckon."

"I suppose," Jimmie said, in as sarcastic a tone as he could bring forth, "that you're lookin' among these bushes for the Manhattan. She might have climbed one of these big trees," he added, with a grin.

The leader made no reply, none being required, and the party pressed forward toward the center of the island. The jungle grew thinner as they advanced, and presently the encampment came into view.

It was evident to the boys that some of the native chiefs were there in state, for some of the tents—doubtless stolen from the government—were gaudily decorated, and attendants were flying about as if their lives depended on the speed with which they covered the ground. It seemed to the boys that there could not be less than three hundred persons present, and the decorated tents, marking the stopping place of a chief, indicated a large collection of native rulers.