Uncle Sam's Boys in the Philippines Part 5

Hyman replied. "This little man has just been telling me how much he loves American _soldados_, and he proposed to get a _quilez_ and take me over into the city for the time of my life."

"From what happened this afternoon I'm a little shaky on Senor Tomba,"

Hal continued.

"You never saw me before!" cried Tomba, wheeling about on Hal. "Liar!

Thief!"

Hal's reply was prompt, sufficient, military. He delivered a short-arm, right-hand blow that struck the native in the neck, felling him to the sidewalk.

But Tomba was up in an instant, and a knife flashed in his hands.

Hal did not flinch. He leaped upon the little brown man, getting a clinch that held the rascal powerless. Then Noll coolly took away the knife, striking the blade into the tree trunk and snapping the steel in two.

"Shall I call the guard, Sergeant, to take this little brown rat?"

demanded Corporal Hyman.

"No; he isn't big enough, or man enough to bother the guard with,"

replied young Sergeant Overton. "I'll take care of him myself."

Whirling the Filipino around, Hal gave him a vigorous start, emphasized by a kick, and Vicente Tomba slid off into the darkness.

Malay blood is not forgiving. There were other reasons, too, why it would have been far better had Sergeant Hal turned Tomba over to the guard.

CHAPTER III

PLOTTERS TRAVEL WITH THE FLAG

From the deck of the "Warren" only distant glimpses of land, on the horizon line, were visible.

The sea to-day was without a ripple, yet, as it was not raining, the sun beat down with a heat that would have wilted most of the pa.s.sengers, had it not been for the awnings stretched over every deck.

Up on the saloon deck was a mixture of the field uniforms of Army officers, the white duck or cotton of male civilian pa.s.sengers, and the white dresses of the women. Most of the married officers of the Thirty-fourth had brought their families along with them, and so children played along the saloon deck, or ran down among the friendly soldiers on the spar deck. Here and there, among the women, was a Yankee schoolma'am, going to some new charge in the islands.

A number of the male cabin pa.s.sengers were not Army people. Some belonged to the postals service, the islands civil service, or were planters or merchants of wealth and influence in the islands, who had been permitted to take pa.s.sage on the troop s.h.i.+p.

Between decks the enlisted men of "Ours" were quartered and berthed by companies. Each enlisted man, by way of a bed, had a bunk whose frame was of gas pipe, to which frame was swung the canvas berth. These berths were in tiers, three high.

Away forward, in special quarters by themselves, as a sort of steerage pa.s.sengers, were some two score natives of the islands who were making the journey for one reason or another. These natives, however, kept to themselves, and the soldiers saw little of them.

Altogether, the "Warren" carried something more than fourteen hundred pa.s.sengers, which meant that quarters were at least sufficiently crowded. Yet the soldiers, with the cheerful good nature of their kind, took this crowded condition as one of the incidents of the life.

Noll was up on deck enjoying himself; Hal, as acting first sergeant, was otherwise occupied during the greater part of the forenoon. At the head of B Company's quarters, two decks below, young Overton sat at a little table, busily working over a set of papers that he had to make up. This "paper work" is one of the banes of first sergeants and of company commanders.

It was after eleven o'clock when Sergeant Hal finished his last sheet.

The papers he folded neatly and thrust them into a long, official envelope, which he endorsed and blotted. Rising, he thrust the envelope into the breast of his blouse and started for the nearest companionway.

"I'm glad, old fellow, that you are the acting first sergeant," grinned comfortable Noll Terry, as his chum came upon deck with forehead, face and neck beaded with perspiration.

"Oh, it doesn't hurt a fellow to have a little work to do," replied Overton, smiling. "You see, you've just been loafing this morning, almost ever since inspection, while I have a consciousness of work well performed."

"Keep your consciousness and enjoy it," retorted Noll, as the two boyish sergeants stepped along the deck.

"I wonder if Captain Cortland is on deck at this moment?" remarked Sergeant Hal.

"I saw him five minutes ago," Noll answered.

Almost at that moment B Company's commander came to the forward rail of the saloon deck and looked down. Then his glance rested on Hal.

"Are the papers ready, Sergeant?" the captain called down.

"Yes, sir; I have them with me," replied Hal. Pressing through the throng of soldiers, he ascended the steps to the saloon deck, saluting and pa.s.sing over the envelope.

"Thank you, Sergeant."

"I think you'll find them all right, sir. I'm somewhat new at the work, but I've taken a lot of pains."

"There's always a lot of pains taken with any work that you do, Sergeant."

"Thank you, sir."

Hal saluted and was about to turn away when he heard a voice saying:

"What we need, in dealing with the Moros in these southern islands, is to show them that----"

Just then the speaker happened to turn, and stopped talking for a moment.

The voice was new, but Sergeant Overton started at sight of the speaker's face.

"Why, that's the same big, florid-faced fellow that I saw in the shed with Tomba, that time it rained so hard," flashed through the young sergeant's astonished mind. "What can he be doing here--a cabin pa.s.senger on a United States troop s.h.i.+p?"

Unconsciously Hal was staring hard at the stranger. It appeared to annoy the florid-faced man.

"Well, my man," he cried impatiently, looking keenly at Hal, "are you waiting to say something to me?"

"No, sir," Sergeant Hal replied quickly.

"Perhaps you thought you knew me?"

"No, sir; I merely remembered having once seen you."

"You've seen me before? Then your memory is better than mine, Sergeant.

Where have you ever seen me before?"

"The other afternoon, sir, on the south side of the Pasig River at Manila. You were in a shed, out of the rain, with a native calling himself Vicente Tomba."