Boy Scouts in the Philippines Part 23

"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 ash.o.r.e 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 sh.o.r.e?"

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 l.u.s.ty 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.