The boys were not taken through the encampment, but led into a tent on the outskirts, where they were securely tied up and left alone.

"Cripes!" Jimmie said, when the flap of the tent fell behind the figure of the disguised man, "this reminds me of a drammer we used to have on the good old Bowery. In this play there was a girl that was always bein' captured an' rescued. Any scene that didn't witness a couple of captures and a couple of rescues was no good. This is just like that. We're bein' captured, all right, but we ain't bein' rescued—not just yet!"

"Ned's somewhere about," Jack said, confidently. "He'll manage to turn us loose before long."

Then through the jungle, and ringing snappingly on the clear air, came the snorting of the Manhattan's engines. At that moment she was entering the little creek which Pat had pointed out. In a moment the explosions ceased.

"If they didn't know before," Jack said, "they know now. It won't take them long to geezle the Manhattan now. Say," he added, "roll over here and eat these cords. If I could get down to them I'd soon be free."

"I wonder if I could?" asked Jimmie.

The cords were hard and strong and tightly knotted, but after a long time the boy succeeded in releasing Jack's hands, and the rest was easy as they were alone in the tent. In a very short time both boys were free of bonds.

The tent did not seem to be guarded, as the captors doubtless believed escape from the island impossible, even if the boys succeeded in getting away from the camp. They did not know, of course, that the member of the Wild Cat Patrol from Manila had noted the capture of the lads, and had started away to notify their friends as soon as the explosions heard so plainly by the boys notified him of the whereabouts of the Manhattan.

Jimmie and Jack remained quietly in the tent for some moments after their freedom from their bonds had been gained, then Jimmie crawled to the wall nearest the center of the camp, lifted the canvas and looked out. He crouched there a moment and then dropped the canvas and turned to his chum.

"You remember the night in Yokohama?" he asked.

"I should say so," Jack replied. "Didn't I wait around a bum old hotel until almost morning for you to come back?"

"Well," Jimmie went on, "the man that sat in disguise in the tea house, and the men who were there with him, are out there."

Jack approached the little opening made by the lifting of the canvas and looked out.

"Which one?" he asked. "Which one was disguised!"

"The military-lookin' chap," was the reply.

"On the night them gazabos chased us down the Street of a Thousand Steps he was made up like a Jap. When we came to the marines he ducked, as if afraid of Uncle Sam's uniforms."

"Ned rather thought he'd be down to this conference," Jack said.

The man to whom the boy called special attention was in the garb of a civilian, but the military manner was unmistakable. He now stood talking with half a dozen Filipinos, occasionally pointing to the eastern coast of the island.

"He's sendin' his natives after the Manhattan, all right," Jimmie said. "There's goin' to be somethin' doin here before long. Look who's here!" he added, as a young man of perhaps twenty-five sauntered toward the tent.

Under his arm the young man carried a steel box, like those used as receptacles for cash and important papers in safe deposit vaults. The box seemed to be quite heavy, for the young man frequently shifted it from one side to the other.

"There's your treaty box!" laughed Jack, poking Jimmie in the ribs.

"It may be, at that," the boy replied.

The young man passed from group to group in front of the tents, apparently seeking some one. Occasionally he pointed to the keyhole of the box and the others felt in their pockets.

"He's lost the key to the treaty box," Jimmie grinned.

"Probably he's got cigarettes in there and wants to dope himself with one," Jack replied.

"Anyway," Jimmie went on, "I wish Ned was here. I'll bet he could open that box for him."

"Now he's talking with the man who chased you out of the tea house in the Street of a Thousand Steps," Jack said, "and the fellow is raving about something."

"They can't open the treaty box!" laughed Jimmie.

"You'll be seeing things next," Jack grunted. "Now, what do you think of that?" he added. "The chap is bringing his box here."

"Then fix yourself up so you'll look like you was in captivity," Jimmie advised. "If he finds out we've released ourselves he'll tie us up again."

The boys found pieces of the cord with which they had been tied and managed to put up a very fair imitation of being bound good and hard. When the young man entered the tent he stood over them for a moment with a supercilious grin on his face.

"How do you like it, boys?" he finally asked.

"Fine!" Jimmie sang out.

"Isn't it most dinner time?" Jack added.

The young man sat down on a bundle of freshly cut grass, placed the box by his side, placed his chin on his hands, his elbows on his knees, and sat for some moments regarding the boys with an amused smile on his rather weak face.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"We're doin' acrobatic stunts on a high wire just now," scorned Jimmie.

"Don't get gay, now," the other growled. "I'm the son of a United States senator."

"I'm the sister of the sun an' moon," Jimmie replied. "So don't be givin' me no guff."

"You're a cheeky little baggage," the son of the senator replied, rising to his feet.

"You might leave that box here," Jimmie called out, "if it's got anythin' to eat in it. We could eat a crocodile."

"Be careful that the crocodiles don't eat you," warned the other and, seizing the box in a firmer grasp, walked out of the tent.

"What do you make of it?" asked Jack.

"The son of a senator," Jimmie replied, "is here representin' some big interest, an' that's the treaty box he's got. Say, if they ever get all these native kings an' queens an' prime ministers to goin', there'll be bloody war in the Philippines, an' Japan, or China, or Germany, or France will butt in, an' there'll be a fine time."

"Of course," Jack replied. "That's why we've got to stop it."

"It might be stopped by scatterin' these chiefs, an' kings, an' all the rest," Jimmie concluded.

"Not so you could notice it," Jack insisted. "Didn't we scatter them when they met on that other island? Well, they've come together again, haven't they? I've heard Ned say that the only way to stop this thing is to get a good grip on the man at the head of it. The thing now is to find who that man is."

"I should say so, with the military men all mixed up in it!" Jimmie said. "It seems to me that the head of it must be in Washington, in Manila, or in Yokohama. I wish Ned was here."

"Tied up?" echoed Jack. "If he was, we'd never get out. Let me tell you this, little man," he went on, the tan on his cheeks showing browner than ever against the sudden paleness of his face, "let me tell you this: These men are here in the guise of soldiers to put this treaty through. These chiefs think they represent men high up in our government. If they didn't think so they wouldn't listen.

"When it is all over, and war has been declared, and our title to the islands has gone up in smoke, these traitors will go back to their posts in the army. Now, this being the case, they won't want to see us around, will they?"

"Hardly," was the reply.

Jimmie saw what his chum was coming to and opened his eyes wider than ever.

"You mean," he added, "that when the ruction breaks out, or even before, we'll be put out of the way?"

"Of course."

"Then I'm goin' to duck right now!" Jimmie said, moving toward the wall of the tent. "I'm not goin' to stay here an' be bolo meat. If we can get to the first thicket we stand a chance of gettin' to the Manhattan."

"That's all right, but it won't do," Jack said. "Don't you suppose these gazabos heard the fuss the engine was makin'? Well, then! But we've got to go somewheres, so come on. Me for a point opposite to the direction of the sounds we heard."

There was a sudden commotion in the camp just then, and the boys reached the first thicket.



CHAPTER XV.

SIGNAL LIGHTS IN THE CHINA SEA.

The boys reached the first thicket and quickly disappeared from the sight of those in the camp. There they listened for an instant, but heard nothing which sounded like pursuit. Then they dug into the jungle and worked around toward the bay where they had left the Manhattan.

There came no alarm from the camp as they passed through the thickets, using only their hands in fighting the creepers and snake-like vines. It was afterwards learned that the arrival of a particularly powerful chief had caused the commotion which had so assisted in the escape.

Luckily the attentions paid to the new arrival stretched over a long period of time, otherwise the boys would certainly have been retaken. Disturbed by the noise made by the lads in pushing through the jungle, the monkeys, birds, and other creatures of the forest lifted up their voices and seemed to point out the path of flight. Jimmie declared that a brass band could have done no more to locate them.

It was after noon when they came to the little bay where they had left the Manhattan. There was the bay, shimmering in the sun, there was the beach where they had landed. But where was the motor boat?

"They've had to run for it," Jimmie decided, gazing gloomily over the waste of sea and back to the jungle. "What's the next move? This spot must be watched, so we've got to get out of here. I guess we're in for it, all right."

The situation seemed to be a desperate one, and the boys crept back into the jungle to study it out. If the Manhattan had left the vicinity of the island there was no hope for them; still, they decided to make sure that it had before giving over the search for it. In considering the situation they did not at all censure Ned, for they saw that he might have been obliged to take the Manhattan away from the little bay in order to avoid capture.

At last when, in their tracing of the coast in the faint hope of finally coming upon the Manhattan, the boys came upon the little stream where the boat was hidden, they remained concealed from the sight of those on board while they took careful note of the surroundings. It did not seem possible that the Manhattan had not been discovered by the Filipinos, and naturally the boys suspected that some trick to gain possession of her without an open fight was being worked.

The boat lay quietly drawing at the cable which held her to the bank of the little stream, with everything apparently in order in the cockpit and in the cabin, but there were at first no signs of the boys. Presently, however, Pat's red head shot up out of the cockpit, where he had evidently been lying down.

As the head appeared, an arrow whizzed almost over the heads of the watching boys and struck the side of the boat with a force which seemed equal to cutting a hole in it. Pat was out of sight in a moment, with the cabin door closed behind him.

"Going back to old methods, are they?" whispered Jack. "Do you see anything of Ned or Frank there?"

Jimmie shook his head.

"I'm afraid they've gone to look us up," he said, "an' in that case, their return to the boat is likely to bring about a fight."

The battle was on in a moment, for Ned, Frank and the Filipino boy were now approaching the boat. It was decidedly a desperate charge they were making through the jungle when shots from the right of the pursuers caused the latter to believe that their peril lay in that direction.

When the Filipinos turned to beat off this attack Ned and his companions made a rush for the boat and reached her in safety. Then the Filipinos rushed to the bank, a dozen or more of them, in a rash attempt to board the Manhattan.

They were met by a hot fire from the cabin and the cockpit as soon as they came out on the little rim of clear space on the bank and turned to the thicket for shelter only to meet a volley of revolver shots from the interior. This was too much for the untrained natives to endure, and they fled up the shore of the stream and disappeared.

The boys themselves were uninjured, but spots of blood on the shore and on the leaves indicated that their bullets had not all gone astray. The wounded natives, however, had been carried off by their companions.

Of course those on the boat understood where the fire which had assisted them had come from. Jimmie and Jack were the only persons on the island who would be apt to come to their aid.

"Come out of that!" Frank called, as the last Filipino disappeared. "Don't stay there in the thicket all day! We've got to get out!"

"Why don't you get out, then?" demanded Jimmie, with a grin. "We'll stay here an' run things while you are gone."

The boys were soon on board and the Manhattan was worked out into the channel. But before she was far away from the shore a volley of shots came from the jungle, doing no damage except to the beauty of the craft.

"Now run!" advised Jack. "The steamer over on the other side can chase the legs off us if given half a chance."

Frank took charge of the engine, and Jack stood by to see that he did the right thing, and the boat purred through the waters at a speed which she had never been called upon to make before. Presently the steamer showed up, pumping great columns of smoke into the sweet air, and the chase was on in earnest.

Ned directed Frank to seek the shelter of a group of islands not far away and sat down to talk with Jimmie, first explaining to the two who had just come aboard how the Filipino Boy Scout came to be there.

"We can't miss 'em!" Jimmie exclaimed, shaking the Filipino warmly by the hand. "We found Boy Scouts in Mexico, and in the Canal Zone, and now in the Philippines. They hop out on us wherever we go, like 'skeeters!"

There was now a long and serious talk concerning the course to be pursued. Jimmie and Jack told of meeting the man who had been followed to Yokohama, and also of the senator's son and the box he carried. The Filipino told what he knew of the plans of those on board the steamer, now gradually drawing away from them.

"Are you sure that the men in charge of the steamer are American military men?" asked Ned.

"Sure!" was the reply. "I came from Manila with them."

"And they are in the service of the government?"

"Sure!"

"Then what are they doing on that island, in company with the insurgent chiefs?" demanded Frank, but the Filipino only shook his head.

He insisted that Lieutenant Carstens, who was in command of the vessel from which the steam launch had come, was a fine officer, and high in the esteem of the Manila authorities.

"Then what is he monkeyin' with the rebel chiefs for?" demanded Jimmie. "It looks to me like Uncle Sam was goin' to get the double cross."

"Why don't you go back to the steamer," asked Pat of Ned, "and go on board?"

"That would be fine!" cried Jack.

"What could they do to him?" demanded Frank.

"That boat is here to make trouble for me," Ned said, in a moment. "I can't understand what is going on, but I know that it would not be safe for me to go on board."

"For why?" asked Jack.

"I should be accused of murder," was the grave reply.

"For shootin' the dagoes who were shootin' at you?" demanded Jimmie.

"That will be the charge," Ned replied.

"Then we'll become pirates!" Jack cried. "We'll sail the raving deep and get a new plank for prisoners to walk as soon as the old one wears out. We'll be bold, bad men on the Spanish main!"

"Cut it out!" Frank said. "This is no joke. They've got the goods on us for that shooting, and we've got to keep out of the way until Ned discovers the inner workings of this red tape machine."

The truth of this statement was so apparent that there was little more argument on the subject. It seemed that, in trying to defend the government against a gang of conspirators and traitors, Ned had indeed come to a point of open rupture with some of the men in authority.

For some unknown reason they were chasing him down. Twice he had come to the spot where the treasonable document was to be executed, and twice he had been driven away without accomplishing the object he sought to accomplish.

About the middle of the afternoon the government steamer disappeared entirely, leaving the Manhattan alone in the network of tiny islands which came down pretty close to the northern shore of the island of Luzon. Ned watched the last trace of her smoke disappear with much the same feeling that one experiences when an enemy he has been fighting passes from view but does not leave the vicinity.

"She's getting ready to spring out on us," he said to Frank. "She is either waiting for night, or she has gone back to dig up a gunboat. Those on board of her have good ground for arresting us, and before we could prove the true state of affairs at the time of the shooting the treaty would be signed and war would be on."

"If we only had that treaty box!" Jimmie exclaimed.

"And the senator's son with it!" Jack put in.

The steamer gave them no more trouble that day, and when night fell the Manhattan nosed into a creek which rippled into the channel and the boys prepared to pass the night there. It was a still night and there was no moon, but would be later on. The air, heavy with tropical scents, scarcely stirred, the light breeze having gone down at sunset.

The island which the boys had selected as a resting place for the night was well up to the north of Luzon and faced the China Sea. There seemed to be no land between its western coast and the shoreline of China. Far out in the sea the lights of a liner gleamed for an instant as the boys carried provisions ashore, then the great expanse of water showed only the light of the stars.

"We may have to lug this stuff back to the boat with a rush," laughed Jimmie, as he carried a basket of tinned provisions from the rowboat to the little glade where they were to prepare supper. "I don't believe the government steamer went very far away. If she did, she'll come back with a gunboat."

"Imagine a gunboat out here after the Manhattan!" scoffed Jack. "All the steamer people wanted was to drive us away. Don't you think they could have caught us if they had set out to? You bet they could! But they didn't want to show up before us. There are people on board of her who do not want to be seen in the society they have been in during the past few days."

Ned looked the speaker over thoughtfully for a moment.

"I think," he said, "that you've about hit the nail on the head. They wanted to drive us away, and they didn't want their own boat in the way to-night."

"What do you mean by that?" asked Frank.

"I'm not very clear in my mind as to what I did mean," laughed Ned. "However, it is plain that the steamer did not relish staying about here."

Ned watched the supper preparations for a short time and then walked away toward the interior. The island was a very small one, and consisted chiefly of a round rim of white sand—which was rock pounded up by the beating of the waves—and a rocky, cone-like elevation which lifted above the waters of the China Sea like a signal tower.

In some distant epoch the bit of rock had been cast up from the bottom of the ocean, and the rains and suns of countless years had formed from the volcanic material the thin soil which here and there supported tropical growths.

Sailors called the island "Elephant's Head," because the central elevation was said to resemble in some remote degree the head of an elephant, and because two great ridges of rock jutted out into the water, pointing toward the coast of China. These ridges formed an excellent harbor, and were known as "The Tusks."

The Manhattan was not anchored in this secure harbor, but in a bay which was formed by a break in the rock just around the south corner of the island. There were springs high up on the mountain, and these formed the river which had in turn worn away the rock and shaped the bay.

Ned reached the place where the climb began in five minutes after leaving the campfire. There was no jungle to speak of and he walked rapidly. He passed on up the steep side of the mountain for some distance and then paused on a little shelf of rock which faced the west and took out his glass.

Before him lay the quiet waters of the great China Sea, while back of him loomed the rugged bulk of the mountain, the summit indistinct in the darkness of the moonless night. The growths of the tropics came up to where he stood and then died out from lack of soil. Elephant's Head stood out boldly, its rugged lines unsoftened by the growths which flourish almost everywhere in the Philippines.

Below, Ned could see the red of the campfire, sheltered from the sea side by a screen of bushes. Away to the west he could see, at first, nothing, and then a light came dancing over the waves. At first he thought he must be mistaken, but the light remained stationery except that it seemed to rock with the slow movement of the waves.

While the boy was wondering over the matter Pat came scrambling up the side of the mountain. He threw himself on the shelf of rock by Ned's side and pointed out to the west.

"You see that light?" he asked.

"Yes; I was just wondering about it," was the reply.

"It is at the top of a tall mast," Pat went on to explain, "and is a signal. I can't read it, of course, but it seems to me that it means mischief."

"I have no doubt of it," was the reply, "but we've got to wait for developments for a time. This seems to me to be a waiting game," he added with a laugh which did not sound at all merry.

The boys sat for a long time, watching the light, which grew nearer, and the campfire below, which was still glowing brightly. Then Ned turned his glass to the north and an exclamation of surprise escaped him. Where he looked there was a duplicate of the light to the west, and that, also, was drawing closer.

"I think," Ned said, after calling Pat's attention to the second light, "that we'd better have that fire out. Go down and ask the boys to finish their suppers and make everything dark."

"Why," Pat said, "you haven't any notion those ships are coming here, have you?"

"There's a pretty good harbor here," Ned said.

"Yes, but—"

"And the insurrectos must have arms," Ned went on.

Pat thumped his hands down on his knees half a dozen times and then brought one palm down on Ned's shoulder.

"Sure!" he said. "Sure, sure, sure! The game is to land arms and ammunition here to-night! Now, what do you think of tumbling headfirst into the center of the disturbance like this? Say, we'll have to receipt for those guns!"



CHAPTER XVI.

FOR PIRACY ON THE HIGH SEAS.

The boys hastened down to the campfire and quickly extinguished it, much to the disgust of Jimmie, who had begun the preparation of an elaborate meal—at least as elaborate as could be gotten together out of tin cans.

This precaution taken, the Manhattan was towed into the mouth of the little creek and climbers and creepers drawn over her until no one would have suspected her presence there. The engine was not set in motion in making this change because of the danger from the explosions.

All this accomplished, Ned and Pat climbed back to the shelf of rock and again looked out over the mysterious China Sea. There were the two lights, one to the west and one to the north. They were closer to the island than before, however, and the light up toward Formosa was drawing to the south rapidly.

"They are going to meet here, all right," Pat said, "and I'll go apples to snowballs that they've got arms for the insurrectos. The manager of this enterprise never let all those chiefs get away from that other island without signing the treaty, and now he's sneaking in guns to help them out."

The boys discussed the situation for some moments, the lights coming nearer with astonishing rapidity. At length another light showed away to the south and west, but not such a light as the others.

It was not high up in the air, like the others, and directly it seemed to divide itself into half a dozen points. Its progress toward the island seemed to be even faster than that of the others.

"That's a steamer," Ned said, after a long look through his glass.

"The other lights are on steamers, too," Pat replied. "No wind-jammer could make the time, in this calm, that those boats are making."

While the boys looked the lights went out, or appeared to, and there was only the glimmer of the unfamiliar constellations of the heavens over the China Sea.

"That's strange!"

Pat turned to Ned and grasped him by the arm.

"What do you make of it?" he continued.

"That may be a signal," was the reply.

"If it is, the glims will show again directly."

"They may," was the reply.

But the lights did not show again, and, after waiting for an hour or more, the boys started back to the camp. Half way down, the dull, reverberating boom of a cannon came to their ears, over the water.

"What does that mean?" asked Pat.

"It may be the gunboat Jimmie insisted would be sent for me," smiled Ned.

"You don't really think that?"

"Hardly," was the reply, "but I don't know what to make of it."

"Perhaps it was a command for the other ships to show their lights," Pat suggested.

"I hope Uncle Sam is becoming wise to the game that is being played down here," Ned said, "and has sent a gunboat to look into it."

"That's it!" cried Pat. "That's just it! If she doesn't pass the ships in the dark there'll be something doing here."

The dull boom of the gun came again, and, far out, the low lights of the gunboat showed above the water. She seemed to be passing swiftly to the north.

"She's going to pass us, all right!" Pat cried. "Now, what did she make that noise for? To warn the ships that she was coming, and to get out of the way?"

"There's some good reason," Ned replied.

In a moment a searchlight shot out from the gunboat and prowled over the sea. The boys could see it moving about, but could not see that it picked up the ships which had previously shown the lights. One of the vessels, it appeared, was too far to the south and the other too far to the north to be reached by the traveling rays from the gunboat.

"She's slowing down!" Pat cried, in a moment. "She's going to search the islands. Glory be!"

"You may not want to meet her people, after you find out what they want," said Ned. "Remember that battle with the Filipinos back there."

"I'm willing to take chances with them," was the reply.

The boys now hastened back to camp and Ned passed on to the creek where the Manhattan lay in hiding.

"Jimmie," he said, turning to face that young gentleman, "do you remember whether those rockets we bought at Manila were put on board?"

"Sure they were!" was the reply. "Want 'em?"

Ned replied that he did, and the boy went prospecting in the lockers of the boat.

"Got 'em!" he cried presently.

"Do you know how to send them off?" asked Ned.

"Do I? Well, if you'd ever seen me bossin' the fireworks at Tompkins Square, in little old N. Y., I guess you wouldn't ask that!"

Just then Jack came blundering along through the brush and half fell into the boat.

"You'd make a fine scout!" Jimmie said. "You move through the thickets with the stealth and grace of an elephant!"

"What's that firing about?" asked Jack, paying no attention to the boy and facing Ned anxiously, his face only half seen in the semi-darkness.

"That is what I want you to find out," was the reply. "I want you and Jimmie to put the boat in running condition, everything ready for a spurt of speed. And I want you to remain here in the boat, ready to shoot out in a second."

"All right! That's easy."

"You may have to wait a long time," Ned went on, "and you may have to go inside of five minutes. When you go, muffle the engine as much as possible, but run like the Old Nick was after you—run for the gunboat out there!"

"They'll pinch me!" wailed Jimmie.

"And when you get to the gunboat," Ned continued, "tell the officer in charge that Nestor is a prisoner on this island, and that the insurrectos are about to land guns and ammunition here."

"You a prisoner!" Jack echoed. "What's the use of lying about it?"

"I shall be a prisoner by the time you reach the gunboat," Ned said, coolly—as calmly as if he had been announcing that he would be taking his supper at that time.

"If you go in the Manhattan," Jack said, "you won't be a prisoner here."

"But I've got to stay here," Ned said, "and besides, the boat must not be loaded down. She may have to make a hot run for the gunboat."

"I don't know what you're up to," Jack said, doubtfully, "but I guess you do, so I'll do just as you say."

"What about the rockets?" asked Jimmie.

"They are to be used in signaling the gunboat," Ned replied. "She may be a long ways off when you get out there."

When the boys at the camp had finished their supper, eaten in the darkness, and watched the sea for signs of the ships for half an hour, they started toward the boat. Then another shot came over the water, followed by two more, fired in quick succession. Ned joined them instantly, for, following the shots, the rattle of sailing gear and the thud-thud of boxes or boards on a deck echoed over the sea.

"One of the ships is close in," Ned said. "Now we'll see if the owners are unloading missionaries here!"

The vessel close in looked like an old-fashioned top-sail schooner; still there was an engine and a propeller. She was a three-master, and looked, in the uncertain light, as if she had been in service in the East for a long time.

She glided into the harbor between the Tusks as if she knew every inch of the channel, and brought up close to a flat surface of rock on one of the Tusks, which formed a natural pier. Then the hatches were opened, and shaded lanterns gleamed about the deck.

Ned glanced back over the mountain, and was astonished at seeing a green signal light there, almost at the top. The men on the schooner saw the signal, too, for Ned could see them pointing at it, could hear them laughing as if a great point had been gained.

"Wonder why we didn't see that?" asked Frank. "It must have been there when the lights showed from the ships."

"We didn't go up high enough, or it might not have been there when we were looking," was the reply.

"Well," Frank said, then, "if we didn't see the chap who is tending that light on the mountain, he must have seen us; or if he didn't see us he must have heard the engine of the Manhattan doing her talking stunt."

"Probably," replied Ned.

The matter was more serious than his manner indicated, for he turned quickly and walked toward the Manhattan, calling out softly to Pat as he did so. There was no answer for a moment, and then it came in the shape of a dozen pistol shots.

Ned dropped down behind a clump of bushes and waited for an instant, resolved to know what was going on at the boat before advancing. Then the boys from the camp came running up, asking questions, and all made a rush for the boat.

When they came within sight of the spot where she lay, they saw that she was moving out into the bay, and that Pat was standing by the engine whirling the fly-wheel. On the shore were a score of Filipinos, standing with guns turned toward the boat.

The boys saw Ned and Frank spring forward, saw them hesitate an instant, and then drop to the ground. The Manhattan swung out into the bay with engines snapping and propeller churning the smooth waters.

"Whoop—ee!" shouted Pat from the deck.

"Got her off all right!" shouted Jimmie. "Nobody hurt!"

"Straight to the Northwest," shouted Ned, "and keep your rockets going!"

"I wish we had been able to get on board," Frank said, regretfully, as the Manhattan showed a clean pair of heels out of the bay. "I saw Jack on her."

"The boys on board have their instructions," Ned said, "and now we may as well be getting out of range of these little brown men! If Pat and the others hadn't been on their guard the boat would have been captured."

The moon was rising now, almost at full, and brought the natives, standing on the beach, out in full relief. They were well armed, and seemed very angry at the turn matters had taken. They had evidently been sent out to capture the boat, and were not pleased at the report they would now be obliged to make.

They stood looking out at the fast receding boat for only a moment before opening fire on her. Directly, however, the Manhattan was out of range, and then they turned their attention to Ned's party, which, being hidden by the thicket, might not have been discovered at that time only for the instructions shouted out by Ned as the boat slid away.

Knowing that he would be between two fires if a battle opened, Ned made no show of resistance when the natives approached him with leveled guns. There was a great bustle between the Tusks now, showing that the cargo of the schooner, whatever it was, was being landed, and it was natural to suppose that there existed an understanding between the crew and the men on the island.

"Don't try to shoot!" a voice said in good English. "My men have you covered."

"Who are you?" asked Ned, not much surprised, after what had taken place, to find the party officered by an American.

"An officer in the United States army," was the unexpected reply.

"Then what are you doing all this shooting for?" demanded Frank. "Why did you molest the Manhattan, here on government service?"

"We'll see about the service she is on later," replied the officer. "Beat it for the harbor, all of you."

When the party reached the Tusks the crew of the schooner was busy unloading long pine boxes which looked as if they contained shovels and hoes, and seemed to be very heavy. The second vessel, the one which had been observed in the north, lay close in.

"Where's the officer in charge?" asked Ned, as they approached a group standing at the head of the harbor.

The officer who had captured the boys pointed out a tall, rather fine-looking man who was standing, pencil and paper in hand, checking off the boxes as they crashed down on the beach.

"There he is," was the information given. "Lieutenant Carstens, and a mighty good man at that!"

The Filipino boy stepped forward, as if anticipating a friendly greeting and then drew back in confusion. Lieutenant Carstens had looked him fairly in the face and had not recognized him.

Ned did not step forward to present his side of the case to the man pointed out to him, for there was no need to do so. The man was the one he had met in the tea house in Yokohama, in the Street of a Thousand Steps.

"Go on and give him a talk," Frank said, as Ned drew back.

"There is not a bit of use," Ned replied. "The man is a crook, and is not acting for the government here."

"Then why these vessels?" asked Frank. "He must be a good deal of a wise crook if be sails about with a fleet like that."

"I rather think he is a good deal of a wise crook," Ned replied. "He's the man whom Jimmie saw mixing with the rebel chiefs."

"But look here," Frank insisted, "look at the blue coats unloading the boxes. They are in the service, for sure. This Lieutenant Carstens may be a crook, but he has a command in the United States navy, all right."

One of the men who was assisting the Lieutenant in the tally now called his attention to the prisoners and the Filipino boy standing by their side. He listened for a moment to what was said to him, then motioned for the Filipino boy to approach. The two talked for a moment in Spanish, and then the boy, evidently much against his will, was sent on board the ship.

In a few moments the Lieutenant turned to Ned, a smile of victory on his lips.

"Well," he said, "your career as a pirate has been brought to a sudden close."

"What do you mean by that?" demanded Ned.

The question was a natural one, but was entirely unnecessary, for the boy knew what was meant—knew on what desperate chance the lives of himself and his friends rested.

"I mean," answered the Lieutenant, "that you are under arrest for piracy on the high seas. Also for deliberate murder. Also for the larceny of the Manhattan from Manila."

"Very well," Ned replied, coolly, "take me back to Manila for trial. I am willing to go with you."

"We don't take pirates back to Manila for trial," was the sneering reply. "We give them a hearing and shoot them down on the spot. I'll attend to your case directly."

"You've got your nerve!" cried Frank.

The Lieutenant turned with a snarl and pointed the end of his pencil toward the two boys.

"Put them in irons," he said. "We'll give them a drum-head when we get the goods out of the Clara and will shoot them at midnight."

The boys made no resistance. That would have been useless, for there were twenty to one against them.

"And," continued the officer, "send for the relatives of the natives this man Nestor murdered on Banta Isle. We'll have them for witnesses."

"They attacked me," Ned said, in a second sorry that he had spoken at all.

"They were ordered to recover the Manhattan, property stolen from the government," was the reply, "and you resisted them. Put a stick in his mouth, Ben, if he talks any more."

Ben, a muscular, scar-faced fellow of thirty, stepped forward and took a seat on the rock near the captives. He had the mild, soft eyes of a student of theology and the square jaw and hard hands of a prize fighter.

"You're to keep your face closed—see?" he said, nudging Ned in the side with an elbow. "You're to keep your clapper tied," he went on, "or I'll tie it up for you. And how in the name of the Seven Seas did you ever get in such a scrape, Ned Nestor?"

The last words were spoken very softly, but before that Ned had recognized the man as one he had known and liked on the water front in New York.

"You're in a bad box," Ben went on, "for that slob means business."

"There's just one chance for us," Ned whispered. "If the rockets are all right, and the gunboat is not too far away to see the signals!"



CHAPTER XVII.

THE FLARE OF A ROCKET.

Ben looked at Ned in astonishment.

"You never got the Manhattan away, did you?" he asked.

"The boys got it away," replied Ned.

The sailor remained silent for a moment, his face turned away from the man he was supposed to be watching. When he spoke it was in a very low tone, with little movement of the lips, and with his face still turned toward the lieutenant.

"You should have gone with it," he said.

Ned did not reply. He had, at the last moment, made a rush for the boat, but had been kept away from her by the natives.

"Carstens has been after you for a long time," the sailor went on. "He got his orders at Manila."

"What was he doing on the island with the rebels?" asked Ned.

"I'm sure I don't know," was the whispered reply. "There's something mighty funny going on here. More mischief, I'm afraid. No one knows what is in the boxes that are now being unloaded."

"What does he say they are?" asked Ned.

"Supplies, to keep the chiefs good-natured."

"He brought them from Manila?"

"No, he picked them up over on the China coast."

"I thought so," Ned answered.

"Now, what is the answer to that remark," asked Ben.

"You'll get the answer directly," Ned replied. "Listen to the rattle of the alleged supplies when a box is thrown down hard!"

"I was noticing that."

"Sounds like guns?" asked Ned.

"Yes, indeed, but why should the government be supplying the dagoes with guns? We have all we can do to keep them decent when they have no arms at all."

"You sailed from Manila with Carstens?" said Ned, putting his statement in the form of a question.

"Yes, I left Manila on the Clara. He seemed to be all right until after we picked up the boxes on the China coast. He was a good fellow, when we left Manila, but he was confined to his cabin for a day and a night and has been ugly as sin ever since. He came out of the sickness looking a bit seedy but that ought not to cause him to turn into a red-handed brute, had it?"

"He has been acting badly, has he?" asked Ned.

"As if the very Old Nick was in him," was the reply. "You heard what he said about a drum-head court martial for you?" the sailor added.

"Of course."

"Well, he means it. He's got something against you that doesn't show on the outside. He'll try you in five minutes and shoot you within the next ten."

"That would be murder."

"Well, he has the authority, under the general instructions regarding the treatment of pirates," said the sailor.

"But you know that I'm not a pirate, and so does Carstens," Ned said. "You know that I came here in the Manhattan without the consent of the officers at Manila, but you know that I was only defending myself when those natives were shot."

"I don't know anything about it," was the discouraging reply. "I've heard you spoken of as a pirate for the past few days, and the members of the crew all believe you to be one. If he orders them to shoot you, they'll do it."

"Yes, I presume so," Ned said, soberly.

"What are you going to do about it?" asked the sailor, after a short pause.

"The question," Ned replied, "is what are you going to do about it?"

"I couldn't do a thing if I tried," was the reply. "When Carstens hears that the Manhattan got away he will be red-headed, and will order the trial to proceed at once. I'll see what I can do with some of the men I know well, but the chances are that I'll only get myself into trouble without doing you any good."

"All you can do," Ned said, "is to delay the trial, and the execution, if it comes to that."

The officer who had made the arrest, after failing to seize the boat, now approached the Lieutenant and said something to him in a low tone.

"What?" the latter almost screamed. "You let the boat get away?"

"They were too quick for us," was the reply.

"Too quick for you?" howled the Lieutenant. "Do you know what you've done? You've ruined all my plans—the plans of the government. Inefficiency is worse than open disobedience, and you may consider yourself under arrest!"

The officer saluted and turned away, a scowl on his face.

"There is a likely man to talk with first," Ned suggested to the sailor. "He will doubtless listen to you."

The Lieutenant now turned sharply toward the prisoners.

"What's going on there?" he demanded. "What are you talking to that pirate for?" he added, approaching Ben threateningly.

"Trying to see what I could get out of him, sir," Ben replied, saluting.

"Well?"

"Not a thing!"

"Then cut it out," said the officer, moving away.

By this time the boxes were all out of the Clara, and the other vessel was brought up to the Tusks. A great pile of boxes lay in the sandy beach, and these the Lieutenant counted over for the second time. Then he beckoned to a dignified looking native and went over the ranks of boxes with him.

"Is it correct?" asked Carstens.

The other nodded and passed a slip of paper to the officer.

"Yokohama exchange," Ned heard him say.

"It must be that the native is paying for the guns," Ned said, and Ben, looking half frightened, half angry, nodded his head.

The Lieutenant now turned to the unloading of the Martha, which was now at the north Tusk. The hatches were soon lifted and the unloading of the cargo began. It consisted principally of boxes and barrels.

"Ammunition," Ned whispered.

Again the sailor nodded.

"Nice old government officer he is!" Frank said, in a half whisper.

"He doesn't act like himself," Ben said, "not since he came out of the cabin after being ill for a day and a night. And the boxes coming out of the hold now do not look like the boxes that were put in it on the China coast. I don't know what to make of it all."

During all this talk Ned had been listening intently for the shriek of a rocket, casting his eyes up the mountain side in the hope of seeing the green light of a signal reflected there. But no reports of rockets in the sky had come to his ears, and there were no signal lights reflected on the mountain.

The moon was well up in the heavens when the unloading of the Martha was completed. Then the Lieutenant called the dignified native to his side again, and once more the toll of the boxes was taken and a slip passed over to the officer. This done, the men went back into the hold again and began unloading small boxes, evidently containing tinned provisions.

"There," whispered Ben, "those are the goods Lieutenant Carstens took on board at the Chinese port."

"Then where were the guns and the ammunition taken on?" asked Ned.

"That is what gets me," was the reply.

"Tinned goods were also put into the Clara?" Ned asked.

"Yes; and they are going to take them out."

"Thought they'd get the guns out first," said Ned. "Don't you see," he added, "that this man Carstens is a traitor! Can't you see that he is turning guns, undoubtedly stolen from the government, over to the rebel chiefs, and getting his pay for them?"

"It looks that way," was the slow reply, "but what am I to do about it?"

"Talk with some of the men," urged Ned. "If those arms are taken away from this island by the natives they will be used to murder soldiers and sailors."

"I know it," said the sailor, "but what can I do?"

"Go and talk to the officer he just ordered under arrest."

"And have him report the conversation in order to get back into the good graces of the Lieutenant!" said Ben. "I'm not quite so green as that."

"What sort of a reputation does this man Carstens bear in army circles?" asked Ned, presently, seeing that it was of no use to argue with the sailor, who was afraid of being brought into trouble if he tried to aid the boy.

"First-class," was the reply. "He is known as a brave and dependable officer."

"And any action he might take here would be endorsed at Manila?"

"Yes; I think so."

"Then," Ned said, grimly, "if the Manhattan doesn't get within speaking distance of the gunboat very soon there will be a couple of funerals on this island."

"I am afraid you are right," said Ben. "If I could do anything for you I would, but—"

"Stop that clatter there!" shouted Carstens, pointing the end of his pencil toward Ned. "Didn't I tell you to put a stick in his mouth if he opened it again?"

Ben saluted and said that he was trying to get a confession out of the prisoner, and the Lieutenant turned back to the work of tallying the tinned goods. It was quite evident that he did not intend to leave that important duty to any subordinate.

Ned knew that he was in the tightest hole his love for detective work had ever fitted him into. He knew that the Lieutenant suspected him, and would not hesitate to order him shot after a mock trial. He had little doubt that the officer had, after his return from Yokohama, managed to poison the minds of the officers at Manila against him. That was why, he thought, he had been ordered by Major John Ross to remain at Manila until instructions could be received from Washington.

He understood that Carstens might murder him there at will and so close his mouth forever. After the murder there would be no one to tell of the secret meetings on the islands where the rebel chiefs were assembled, no one to tell of the murder of Brown at the Yokohama tea house, no one to tell of the arms unloaded there and turned over to the Filipinos—unless the sailors should take it into their heads to investigate the long boxes and take their lives in their hands by reporting their discoveries.

Lieutenant Carstens certainly had everything to his taste there, and Ned was of the opinion that he would not be very long in exercising his authority to the limit. While the boy was thinking over the situation, trying to find some way out of the peril he was in, a sleepy-looking young man came out of the cabin of the Clara and stepped ashore. He was neatly dressed, with a handsome face and alert figure. Lieutenant Carstens bowed to him as he approached the place where he stood and pointed to the prisoners.

"Do you know who that is?" whispered Ned to the sailor.

"No," was the reply, "except that he is the son of a prominent politician in the United States."

Ned did not need to ask another question then. Jimmie had described the senator's son, and Ned knew that the young man who had held possession of the treaty box was there, in conference with the Lieutenant.

"I guess," the boy mused, "they've got the top hand. The Lieutenant has his military authority, and also has the senator's son here to swear to anything he asks him to!"

"You should have made a getaway in the Manhattan," Ben said, in a moment.

"Then I wouldn't have seen the unloading of the arms," Ned answered.

Ben arose and stood yawning by the side of his prisoner. The Lieutenant and the senator's son approached and stood for a moment looking down on the two captives.

"Why not call the drum-head now?" asked the senator's son. "It will help to pass a couple of hours which might otherwise be dull."

"Call it, then," said the officer. "The sooner it is over the better."

Ned looked up to the mountain as one looks to a friend for assistance and cheer when things are going hard, and the mountain did not disappoint him. For there, high up, was the green light of a distant rocket.

The Manhattan had found the gunboat and was using the signals.



CHAPTER XVIII.

THE MAN BEHIND THE DOOR.

It was a second later that the puff of the exploding rocket reached the ears of those gathered about the boxes on the island, for sound does not travel as rapidly as light. When it came, Lieutenant Carstens made a dash for the side of the mountain and began the ascent. After ten anxious minutes he was back again with a malevolent grin on his face.

"The gunboat has captured the Manhattan," he said, facing Ned.

Ned made no reply, for he was not a little puzzled at the remark. It indicated that the speaker believed that he had as complete control over the actions of those on the gunboat as he had over the conduct of those on board the Clara and the Martha. If this was true, there was nothing more to hope for. The gunboat would bring Pat, Jack, and Jimmie back as prisoners, and the drum-head would deal with five prisoners instead of two.

The Lieutenant now dispatched a man to the shelf of rock on the mountain which Ned had previously occupied, instructing him to report the progress of the gunboat, supposed to be bringing in her prize. From time to time the watchman called out that the two boats were rapidly nearing the harbor, and Ned listened to the reports with varying emotions. Now he was certain that the officer in charge of the gunboat would understand the situation; now he was almost sure that the officer and Carstens had had an understanding with each other from the first.

Two chiefs, evidently men of distinction among the native tribes, now approached the Lieutenant and spoke to him in Spanish. After replying Carstens turned to the son of the senator.

"Clem," he said, "perhaps you would better bring the box from the cabin. These men are satisfied with the goods they have received, and are ready to sign."

And so the treaty was to be executed there—after the receipt of sufficient arms and ammunition to make the revolt against the government formidable. Ned saw the craft with which the game had been played, and wondered if the officer who was coming on the gunboat could be induced to make an examination of the boxes on the beach and the box about to be brought from the cabin.

If he could, that would end the trouble so far as Ned and his companions were involved in it. If he stood hand-in-glove with Carstens, however, he would pretend to doubt the statements offered by the prisoners and refuse to make any investigation at all. In this case, there was likely to be murder done before morning.

"Gunboat rounding the point!" called the lookout.

The critical moment was near at hand, and Frank and Ned looked into each other's faces with apprehension in their eyes. Still, there was no weakening, no outward sign of the mental commotion within.

Presently the gunboat rounded the point to the north and slid into the harbor between the Tusks, followed closely by the Manhattan. Ned saw that the boys were still on the Manhattan, but that two men in uniform were there with them. It looked to him as if the lads had been placed under arrest, for they did not appear as jubilant as they would doubtless have looked if their story had been taken at its full face value.

Lieutenant Carstens appeared to be astonished and decidedly out of temper when the commander of the gunboat stepped out on the north Tusk. He was nervous, too, and cursed roundly at one of the men who crossed his path as he advanced to meet the officer. The three boys, who did not now act like prisoners, flocked off the Manhattan and gathered around Ned and Frank. Their faces, however, still showed anxiety rather than joy at the success of their efforts to bring the gunboat to the island.

"I presume you have your instructions regarding the Manhattan and her crew?" Lieutenant Carstens said, after the formalities had been gone through with.

"I understand that the boys took the boat out without permission," was the reply. "I am ordered to return her to Manila and to place the boys under arrest."

This was encouraging, for Ned knew that they would be safer under the guard of the captain of the gunboat than that of Carstens. Everything could be explained if they were taken back to Manila, and not shot like dogs, without a trial.

"Since leaving Manila," Carstens went on, "they have attacked several native settlements and murdered several persons. I already have them under arrest for piracy."

"What is the proposition?" asked the other.

"In my judgment they should be tried here, and, if convicted, executed at the scene of their latest crime."

"I protest against that," said the other.

"See here, Curtis," Carstens said, roughly, "these fellows are my prisoners, and I am here with special orders. That will be all."

"Hardly all," was the cool reply, "for I have my gunboat in the harbor."

Encouraged by this statement, Ned stepped forward and raised his bound hands.

"May I speak a word?" he asked.

"Certainly not!" said Carstens.

"Go ahead!" the captain of the gunboat, Frederick Curtis, said. "George," he added, addressing an officer, "go to the boat and train her guns on this delightful party."

Carstens turned deadly pale but smiled, and saluted.

"I'm sure you will do nothing rash," he said.

"I shall not overstep my instructions," was the reply. "What have you to say?" he continued, facing Ned.

"I want a few words with you in private," was the reply.

"I protest!" shouted the Lieutenant.

"Best speak here," was the decision of the captain.

At this moment the senator's son made his appearance on the Tusk with a steel box under his arm. He advanced quickly to the group and passed the box to Lieutenant Carstens.

"First," Ned began, "I ask you, Captain Curtis, to take charge of the box just given to Lieutenant Carstens."

Captain Curtis extended his hand for the box, but the Lieutenant drew back.

"This is unusual," the lieutenant said, "irregular and discourteous."

"I waive the point for the present," Captain Curtis said, "but I insist that the box shall not leave your hands until it passes into mine."

"Next," Ned went on, encouraged by the words and manner of Captain Curtis, "I want you to have the cabin of the Clara searched."

Lieutenant Carstens approached the speaker in a threatening manner, but Curtis stepped in front of him.

"Why shouldn't the cabin of the Clara be searched?" the latter demanded.

"You shall pay for this indignity!" Carstens roared, turning away from the group, with the box still under his arm. Ned pointed to the box, and Captain Curtis stopped him.

"I want that box," he said, calmly.

Lieutenant Carstens hastened his steps and lifted the steel box in his hands, as if about to toss it into the sea. Before he could execute his purpose, however, the box was seized by the Captain.

"If you wish to assist in the search of the cabin," Captain Curtis said, "we will go there together. Come along, Nestor," he added, turning to Ned and cutting the cord which held his wrists. "You suggested the move, and you shall see what is discovered in the search."

The Lieutenant moved along with the others, but paused at the head of the stairway leading down into the little stern cabin.

"I protest against this!" he roared, his face bloodless with passion or fright.

"By the way," Captain Curtis said, lifting the steel box high in the air, "this appears to be quite heavy. Suppose we open it here?"

"There is no key," Carstens replied.

Ned held up the odd-shaped key he had found on the island first visited.

"I think I can open it," he said, "but you'll find that Carstens has a key if you'll take a look through his clothes."

"Will you surrender the key?" asked Captain Curtis of the Lieutenant.

"The boy lies!" thundered Carstens. "I have no key."

"What does the box contain?" asked the Captain.

"I don't exactly know," Ned replied, "but it is my opinion that it contains a treaty pledging certain tribes to unite in rebellion against the United States provided they are supplied with guns and ammunition."

"Your opinion is of little account!" gritted the Lieutenant.

"And I believe," Ned went on, "that other papers are in the box—papers giving a history of the plot, also papers stolen from the government. Anyway, if you say so, Captain, I'll open the box with my key and we'll soon find out."

"Perhaps we would better retire to the cabin," suggested Captain Curtis, noting the curious faces gathering about. "We can settle the whole matter there."

Lieutenant Carstens would not have entered the cabin if one of the officers of the gunboat had not crowded him down the stairway.

"This is an outrage!" he shouted.

The senator's son now came hastily down the steps, his face red with rage, his fingers working convulsively, as if already playing about the throat of an enemy.

"That box is mine!" he cried. "I demand that it be returned to me unopened. I am the son of a United States senator."

"If what I suspect is true," Ned said, "you will need all the political pull a member of the senate has in order to keep yourself out of the penitentiary."

"Put that boy out of this cabin!" snarled the young man. "This is my private room. I paid for its use during the cruise."

Ned whispered a few words to the Captain, and the latter turned with a smile to a door opening at the rear of the little room where the excited group stood.

"Well," he said, "there is a question here as to whether the box contains any treasonable documents. If the box belongs to you, open it and we'll see if the charge is true or false. If it is false the box shall be returned to you."

"I have lost my key," was the reply.

"How long ago?" asked Ned.

The young man turned a supercilious face on the boy, but answered:

"Several days ago. What is it to you?"

"Where were you when you first missed it?" Ned persisted.

"That does not concern you," was the reply.

"If you lost it in Captain Godwin's station," Ned said, with a smile, "I presume I have it."

He held up the key he had found on the river bank, among the bushes, on the morning following the abduction of Lieutenant Rowe, and the other lunged for it.

"Never mind!" Ned laughed, dodging away, "I don't care to part with the key just now. After the investigation of the box is over you may have it."

"Unlock the box," ordered the Captain.

Ned stepped forward with his key, but was brought to a stop by a beating on the door of the rear cabin.

"I forgot," the boy said, "and the man in there doubtless desires his liberty. If some of you will unlock the door you will find the man the government sent away in charge of this expedition."

"What do you mean?" asked the Captain, while Carstens sank back in his chair with a groan.

"I think," Ned replied, "that you will find the real Lieutenant Carstens on the other side of that door."



CHAPTER XIX.

BOY SCOUTS UNEARTH PLOT.

The door was opened instantly, and a man in the uniform of a lieutenant in the United States Navy, stepped forth. He was pale and haggard, and there was a bandage about his head, but his eyes were clear and bright. Even in his emaciated condition his resemblance to the man crouching in his chair was striking.

There was a silence in the cabin for an instant as the man stepped forth. Surprise was depicted on every face except those of Ned and Captain Curtis.

"You see I was right," Ned said.

"You are Lieutenant Carstens?" asked the Captain.

"I am," was the slow reply, "and I ask that the traitor cowering in the chair be placed under arrest."

"That has already been done," the Captain said. "How long have you been confined in the cabin?"

"Several days," was the reply, "ever since the first day out, and each day seemed an eternity of years, for I knew that a treasonable scheme was afoot. If you will open that steel box," he added, "you will find the proof of my words."

"So they tried to corrupt you, did they?" asked Ned, applying the key to the box.

"Indeed they did," was the reply, "and failing, they determined to take my life. Why they delayed doing so is more than I can understand."

"Perhaps it may be well to use the key held by this man Keene, who has been personating me for so many days," Lieutenant Carstens said.

"I know nothing about the box or its contents!" Keene shouted. "It was given to me by the senator's son, and now I command you to restore it to him as I received it, unopened."

Captain Curtis raised his hand and three men sprang upon Keene, who struggled violently for a moment and then dropped back, inert and almost lifeless. A search of his pockets revealed a key which was the exact duplicate of the one in the possession of Ned, and with this the steel box was opened.

Captain Curtis took a sheaf of papers from it and handed them to Ned.

"See if your guess had any merit," he said, with a laugh.

"Here," Ned began, separating the papers one by one, "is a treaty signed by many native chiefs. Under its provisions, a thousand islands in the Philippine group would have been in open revolt within a week."

"This is all news to me!" gasped the senator's son, pale and frightened.

"And yet you claimed the box!" Ned said.

"But only as a piece of property placed in my possession as a sacred charge," the young man answered. "I didn't know what it contained. This man Keene, who has been posing as Lieutenant Carstens, alone knew what was in the box."

"That is false!" shouted Keene, "for you wrote the treaty, and witnessed the signing of it. It was all done in the interest of that gigantic corporation of which your very honorable father is the head!"

"Are you ready to tell the truth at last?" asked the Captain.

"Yes," answered Keene, "I'll tell all I know about it. I was poor and in disgrace in army circles, and this senator offered me more than I could refuse. That is all there is to it. I'll tell the truth, fast enough."

"You're a fool!" shouted the senator's son. "Who will believe what you say? As you said a moment ago, you are in disgrace in army circles now, having been cashiered for cheating at cards. No officer would take your word, or your oath, for that matter."

"And he," Keene faltered, pointing a shaking finger at the young man, "was sent out here to pay me the price of my treachery and to see that I delivered the goods!"

"It is false!" the young man replied. "All a lie! Wait until you hear from Washington! Then you'll see who is a traitor!"

"And this," Ned went on, holding up another paper, "is the order which followed Lieutenant Rowe to Captain Godwin's headquarters. Why they kept it, I do not know, but keep it they did."

"Read it," commanded the Captain.

"It orders Lieutenant Rowe," the boy summarized, "to arrest Tag, Captain Godwin's servant, and half a dozen other Filipinos at Godwin's headquarters and place them in irons. It informs Lieutenant Rowe that he must remain at Godwin's quarters until further instructions are sent to him."

"That paper," Keene said, "was retained to prove to the native chiefs what difficulties we, their friends, were encountering in trying to assist them in building up a confederacy of their own."

"It seems to me that there is nothing more to say about this matter," Ned said. "We boys came to the Philippines to assist the government in unearthing this plot and bringing the leaders to punishment, and there seems to be nothing more to be done."

"But I don't quite understand it yet," Captain Curtis said. "How did you know that this box contained the treaty? How did you know that Keene was personating Lieutenant Carstens?"

"This man Keene," Ned laughed, "played his hand awkwardly. Through spies in the offices at Manila, doubtless, he learned that the treachery of the Filipinos at Godwin's island had been discovered. He knew that the government would look there first, and determined to block the investigation until he could accomplish what he had set out to do and get his blood money."

Keene frowned up from his chair at the boy, but said nothing. The senator's son smiled weakly and kept his eyes on the floor.

"Go on!" the Captain said, greatly interested.

"Lieutenant Rowe was detailed to investigate the matter, and ordered to the Godwin island. If the isle has another name I have never learned of the fact."

"It is called Penalty Island," smiled the Captain, "because the man sent there is supposed to be given the detail for some oversight of duty. However, in the case of Captain Godwin, I do not think this holds good."

"After the Lieutenant left for Penalty Island, then," Ned went on, "Keene discovered what was going on and feared that Tag and his fellows, if arrested, would snitch, as the boys have it. Then the messenger was sent after Rowe with more definite instructions. That is, he was given more positive instructions and sent out in haste. On the way to Penalty Island the instructions were stolen and another paper substituted.

"While the original order required Rowe to arrest Tag and his fellow conspirators, the false one required the Lieutenant to return at once to Manila. This would indeed have blocked the investigation and given Keene and his confederates time in which to complete their work of organizing the tribes.

"But the messenger knew what the papers he had been given contained, and when they were read by the Lieutenant—exactly opposite to the instructions given him—there was a pretty row. He informed Rowe of the substitution and advised him not to obey the orders delivered.

"Tag and his men, clustered about the windows and porch of the nipa hut, heard what was going on and decided to get rid of Lieutenant Rowe and his party by assassination. This plan was not carried out because this young man Clem, whom we know only as the senator's son, arrived with a party of Americans and Filipinos.

"This man Keene might have been with the party, but I'm not sure of that. I don't know the date when he left Manila, or when he took charge of the Clara as Lieutenant Carstens."

"I was not there!" Keene gritted out.

"Oh, yes, you were!" insisted the senator's son. "You were in command of the Clara at that time, with Lieutenant Carstens locked up in his cabin."

"That is a falsehood," Keene said, turning to Ned. "I was there at Penalty Island, but I was not at that time in command of the Clara."

"And only for me," Clem went on, "the Lieutenant and his men would have been shot instead of being taken prisoners."

Keene settled back into his chair without replying to this.

"Why did you go to Yokohama?" asked Ned.

"So you recognized me?" growled Keene. "You knew me when you saw me in the tea house? Well, I went there to kill Brown!"

The assertion was made so savagely, so recklessly, that the listeners gazed at the speaker in wonder.

"Brown," continued Keene, "was blackmailing me. He was at Penalty Island and was threatening to reveal what he knew unless I gave him a large sum of money. He went to Japan and I followed and caused him to be killed."

"And then you went back to Manila and went aboard the Clara?" asked Ned.

"Yes; and came down to witness the signing of the treaty."

"Where did you get the guns?" asked Ned.

Captain Curtis gave a quick start at the question.

"The guns?" he asked. "What guns?"

"The guns which were unloaded here to-night," was the reply, "and turned over to the chiefs. If you will look through Keene's pockets again you will find drafts in payment for them."

"Where did you get the guns?" demanded the Captain.

"Stole them from the government!" was the reply. "We caused them to be loaded on board at Manila, before Carstens went aboard. He never knew they were in the hold. We were to pick up a lot of tinned provisions on the China coast—left there by a wrecked supply boat—and carry them to natives supposed to be on the verge of starvation. I took Carstens' place just before we reached the place where the tinned goods were. What I want to know is this," he added. "How did you learn so much about what we were doing, and intended to do?"

"This young man," pointing to Clem, "had a battle with one of the men at the nipa hut," was the reply. "He was not so strong as his opponent, and was dragged about the floor. If you will look at his heels you will see three large nails protruding from the right one. I saw them when he first came out of the cabin, when he lifted his shoe to strike a match for his cigarette.

"During this struggle his right hand was injured a bit, cut so that the blood ran from the wound. Now, after getting the prisoners to the canoe, he opened the treaty box in order to place therein the original instructions given to the messenger. If you will look at the paper you will observe a slight smear of blood.

"When he opened the box he took from it a very rough draft of the treaty and threw it away, after burning it about half up. I found what was left of it, bearing his mark, the bloody smear, and so learned what was in the box—beyond all reasonable doubt. He lost his key there, and I found it. The other key was in the possession of Keene, as you know."

"But why did you go to Yokohama?" asked Keene.

"I followed Brown there. At least I followed you and him to Manila. There you both disappeared, and I was told that Brown had gone to Yokohama. Do you remember of having trouble with him in a saloon at Manila, and threatening him? Well, I found that out, and I found out that you had been having trouble with him ever since returning to the city.

"It was easy to get his description, and so I followed him to Yokohama, believing that I could get his confession. He fled to Japan because of his fear of you, I take it?"

"He went to Japan because I promised to meet him there and give him a large sum of money," was the sullen reply. "I went there to kill him!"

"And then you got the Clara, and circulated about the islands in her launch, and conferred with the native chiefs. I frightened you away from a couple of the conferences, as you know. You were betraying your country, and trying to place the crime on the hands of Lieutenant Carstens!"

"I should have succeeded, and got away with a fortune only for you!" growled the fellow. "Well," he added, "it is all in the game. I lost out and you won out. Good luck to you!"

They were too late to stop the sudden lifting of the hand to the mouth, and when they lifted him from the floor of the cabin he was dead. The senator's son stood over the body for a moment and turned to Captain Curtis.

"You know all about it now," he said. "If I am under arrest, take me to Manila. I can get bail there."

The guns were reloaded on the Clara, the ammunition on the Martha, and the ships sailed at once for Manila, with half a dozen native chiefs who had come to receive the arms locked up in the cabin formerly occupied by Lieutenant Carstens. The removal of the arms and the capture of the leaders brought the conspiracy to a close and the matter was hushed up. Tag and his companions were arrested and punished.

The young man who claimed to be the son of a senator pleaded guilty to receiving stolen arms, stolen from the government, and was sentenced to a long term in a federal prison. When it was all over, after Major John Ross had condescendingly admitted the great value of Ned's services, after the government had paid the boy a large sum for his work, the five lads, Ned, Frank, Jack, Jimmie and Pat, arranged to spend a month among the islands in the Manhattan.

"Bounding from isle to isle!" Jack cried. "Lying in the boat when you don't know whether the sea is the sky or the sky is the sea, both being so blue!"

"Well," Jimmie said, "I'll go along to see that you don't get captured again."

"I'd like to know whatever became of that man French," Ned said, laughing.

"Oh, he ducked," Frank said. "I heard Captain Curtis asking about him last night. He was just a paid thief, and jumped his parole."

"And we'll take Pat along," Jack said, "to leave signs in grass and send up smoke signals of distress. How did you get the two columns to working, Pat?" he added.

"The natives are lazy and didn't like to work, so I offered to bring the wood for them and build a fire. Well, I built two fires, as you know, and they suspected something and tied me up again."

"You're a handy Irishman, all right!" laughed Jack. "What have you done with the Filipino Boy Scout? I saw him with you last night!".

"He's going back to Washington," was the reply. "We may meet him over there."

On the following morning the boys would have been away in the Manhattan, but that night Captain Curtis visited them and left a sealed envelope with Ned.

"You are to open that at Portland, Oregon," he said.

Ned did not look altogether pleased when he read the papers contained in the sealed envelope.

"There's going to be trouble up in the Northwest," he said, "and we're going there on government service. And we're going to have aeroplanes! Think of it!"

There was a shout, and Ned was almost buried under a collection of legs and arms.

"Whoop—ee!" cried Jack. "Me for the aeroplanes!"



THE END.

The story of the Boy Scouts' adventures in the Northwest will be found in the next book of the series, "Boy Scouts in the Northwest, or, Fighting Forest Fires." Chicago, M. A. Donohue & Co.. publishers.



* * * * *



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Boy Scouts SERIES

EVERY BOY AND GIRL IN THE LAND WILL WANT TO READ THESE INTERESTING AND INSTRUCTIVE BOOKS

WRITTEN BY That Great Nature Authority and Eminent Scout Master G. HARVEY RALPHSON of the Black Bear Patrol.

Boy Scouts in Mexico; or, On Guard with Uncle Sam

Boy Scouts in the Canal Zone; or, The Plot Against Uncle Sam

Boy Scouts in the Philippines; or, The Key to the Treaty

Boy Scouts in the Northwest; or, Fighting Forest Fires

Boy Scouts in a Motor Boat; or, Adventures on the Columbia River

Boy Scouts in an Airship; or, The Warning from the Sky

Boy Scouts in a Submarine; or, Searching An Ocean Floor

Boy Scouts on Motor Cycles; or, With the Flying Squadron



Alger Series For Boys

The public and popular verdict for many years has approved of the Alger series of books as among the most wholesome of all stories for boys.

Adrift in New York

Andy Gordon

Andy Grant's Pluck

Bob Burton

Bound to Rise

Brave and Bold

Cash Boy, The

Charlie Codman's Cruise

Chester Rand

Cousin's Conspiracy, A

Do and Dare

Driven From Home

Erie Train Boy

Facing the World

Five Hundred Dollars

Frank's Campaign

Grit; The Young Boatman

Herbert Carter's Legacy

Hector's Inheritance

Helping Himself

In a New World

Jack's Word

Jed, the Poor House Boy

Joe's Luck

Julius, the Street Boy

Making His way

Mark Mason's Victory

Only an Irish Boy

Paul Prescott's Charge

Paul, the Peddler

Phil, the Fiddler

Ralph Raymond's Heir

Risen from the Ranks

Sam's Chance

Shifting for Himself

Sink or Swim

Slow and Sure

Store Boy, The

Strive and Succeed

Strong and Steady

Struggling Upward

Telegraph Boy, The

Tin Box, The

Tom, the Boot Black

Tony, the Tramp

Try and Trust

Wait and Hope

Walter Sherwood's Probation

Wren Winter's Triumph

Young Aerobat

Young Adventurer, The

Young Explorer

Young Miner

Young Musician

Young Outlaw

Young Salesman



WOODCRAFT for Boy Scouts and Others

_By_ OWEN JONES _and_ MARCUS WOODMAN _With a Message to Boy Scouts _by_ SIR BADEN-POWELL, _Founder of the Boy Scouts' Movement_.

One of the essential requirements of the Boy Scout training is a Knowledge of Woodcraft. This necessitates a book embracing all the subjects and treating on all the topics that a thorough knowledge of Woodcraft implies.

This book thoroughly exhausts the subject. It imparts a comprehensive knowledge of woods from fungus growth to the most stately monarch of the forest: it treats of the habits and lairs of all the feathered and furry inhabitants of the woods. Shows how to trail wild animals; how to identify birds and beasts by their tracks, calls, etc. Tells how to forecast the weather, and in fact treats on every phase of nature with which a Boy Scout or any woodman or lover of nature should be familiar. The authorship guarantees it's authenticity and reliability. Indispensable to "Boy Scouts" and others. Printed from large clear type on superior paper.

Embellished With Over 100 Thumb Nail Illustrations Taken From Life



Oliver Optic Series

For a full generation the youth of America has been reading and re-reading "Oliver Optic." No genuine boy ever tires of this famous author who knew just what boys wanted and was always able to supply his wants.

All Aboard

Brave Old Salt

Boat Club, The

Fighting Joe

Haste and Waste

Hope and Have

In School and Out

Little by Little

Now or Never

Outward Bound

Poor and Proud

Rich and Humble

Sailor Boy, The

Soldier Boy, The

Try Again

Watch and Wait

Work and Win

The Yankee Middy

The Young Lieutenant



THRILLING, INTERESTING, INSTRUCTIVE BOOKS

By HARRY CASTLEMON

No boy's library is complete unless it contains all of the books by that charming, delightful writer of boys' stories of adventure, Harry Castlemon.

Boy Trapper, The

Frank the Young Naturalist

Frank in the Woods

Frank on the Lower Mississippi

Frank on a Gunboat

Frank Before Vicksburg

Frank on the Prairie

Frank at Don Carlos Ranch

The First Capture

Struggle for a Fortune, A

Winged Arrows Medicine

THE END