JX 
 
 Tl 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 "S^ 
 
 
 ^K 
 
 
 w^ 
 
 ^*L^ 
 
 "■■*»--*-^ "* 
 
 . ^Hqucfin| 
 
 mf^st^ 
 
 ^"•"-^X.J^ 
 
^ OF TFIE 
 TTNIVERSITY 
 
A CoiKiiieriii^' Corps Bafee 
 
 AND orilKR STORIES OF IIIE 
 
 PHILIPPINES 
 
 By 
 
 GENERAL CHARLES KING 
 
 Author of 
 
 'The ColonvFa DaiigbtiT." ••Marion's Faitb," ••Capt.iia Illake. 
 
 "i'nder h^rc." •• Tbe (ieni-rnrs Double," '• lletiyeon the 
 
 Lines." "A Wiirtime Wooing," •• ('Hn)pnigning 
 
 nitb Crook" and •' Xoraian Holt." 
 
 With Illustrations liy Miss Alicia GooiKsiii, 
 B. Martin Justice ami Stuart Travis. 
 Cover designed by Miss Elinor Vorke King. 
 
 L. A. R H () A I) F S c^ C O M P A N Y 
 
 MILWAUKEE. WISCONSIN 
 
 I 902 
 
Copyriu,lucd 1901 
 
 by 
 
 Charles King 
 
 Burilick & Allen 
 
 Printers 
 
 Milwaukee 
 
TO 
 
 THE MEN OF SANTA ANA— 
 
 THE 
 
 Soldiers of Caufornia. Idaho. Washington', and of 
 
 Light B.\ttery "D." Sixth U. S. .'Krtii.i.ery.— 
 
 THE oi.n First Brigade. First Division, 
 
 Eighth .\rmy Cori's. 
 
 IN 
 
 admiration of their valor and gratitude for their loyalty, 
 
 THESE 
 stories m-k- mii'c^ \TFIi 
 
 ivi(;(MGy8 
 
PREFACE 
 
 TORIES that tell of the early days 
 
 of the Army of the Philippines are 
 
 as yet not numerous. The badge 
 
 of the Eighth Corps, worn at the 
 
 outbreak of the insurrection by an 
 
 almost pitifully small command as compared with 
 
 the numbers of the encircling foe, appeared later 
 
 on the breast of many thousand gallant fellows — 
 
 regular and volunteer— and later still was worn by 
 
 many a fair woman— wife, sister or sweetheart of 
 
 some boy in blue, fighting across the broad Pacific 
 
 for his country's flag; and it is to these, and to 
 
 those whose hearts were with them, these stories 
 
 are hopefully commended. "A Conquering Corps 
 
 Badge," the first and far the longest, except for a 
 
 local airing makes its initial appearance herein. 
 
 "The Manila Wire," a"true bill," found a page in 
 
 Youth's Companion a year or so ago, the flattering 
 
 sketch of the writer in Ainslie's Magazine, and 
 
 most of the other talcs were told to the readers of 
 
 the Philadelphia Saturday Evening Post. For the 
 
 courtesies extended them by these most popular 
 
 periodicals, the hearty thanks of the publishers of 
 
 this little volume, as well as his own. are thus 
 
 inadequatelv tendered bv 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 Page 
 
 A Conquering Corps Badge, - - - - i 
 
 Jack Royal, 6i 
 
 Dove Cote Days. - - - - - - 109 
 
 A Rival Ally, - - - - - - "US 
 
 The Senator's Plight, 171 
 
 The Luck of the Horseshoe, - - - - 205 
 
 A Camera Capture, 231 
 
 The Fate of Guadalupe, - - - ■ 247 
 
 The Manila Wire, 271 
 
 Hetrayed hy a Button, 285 
 
 Biographical, 293 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 Page 
 
 Bessie Bellingham, ------ i 
 
 Midwinter in Manila, 26 
 
 "Pit-a-Patty," - - 61 
 
 "Maclean's," ------- 105 
 
 With his hand on his heart he made her a low 
 
 bow, - - - - - - - - log 
 
 "Will you trust yourself to me— alone ?" - 141 
 
 He broke from them to clasp Ethel in his arms, 145 
 
 "Teniente Americano," ----- 168 
 
 A moment of odd silence and constraint, - 171 
 
 "Permit me to restore missing property," - 205 
 
 She quickly unslunt:; her camera, etc., - - 231 
 
 Six white-gloved hands went up in salute, - 231 
 
 Ruins of Guadalupe Church, - - - - 247 
 
 Paco Church, - - - - - - - 271 
 
 Portrait of General Charles King, - - - 293 
 
 Concordia Bridge, - 305 
 

 w/ 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 BESSli: BELLI NGHAM. 
 
A CONQUERING CORPS 
 BADGE. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 It had been raining in cataracts, as it does 
 at times in the Philippines. The rice fields 
 were a lake, the road was a river. The only 
 bit of highway in sight, in fact, was the top 
 of the stone arch of the bridge. Walls, roofs 
 and trees stood straight out of the flood, and, 
 when the rain let up and the sun came out for 
 a peep at his satellite before going to bed, 
 walls, roofs and trees seemed absorbed in their 
 own reflections — as they appeared in the w'ater 
 beneath. 
 
 Close by the stone i)ridge stood the bamboo 
 and nipa guard house, perched on high like 
 some many-legged aquatic fowl. Close by the 
 guard house was moored a raft, and, outspread 
 upon the raft, was the supper of the guard. 
 
2 A CONQUERING CORPS BADGE. 
 
 The sentry at the bridge, squatted on the stone 
 coping to keep his feet out of the wet, sliouted 
 inquiry as to liow soon the rehef could wade 
 out and let him come in. Number Two, 
 perched in a tree two hundred yards distant 
 along a line of bamboo fence whose upper edge 
 alone was visible, shouted louder, and with 
 genuine Yankee freedom, a similar query. 
 Number Three, somewhere back toward town 
 along the invisible road, was lost in the bam- 
 boo — and his own affairs, which at the moment 
 happened to be so interesting as to make him 
 indifferent to either relief or supper. 
 
 Along the main street of the barrio of Bally- 
 bag were many native homes of bamboo and 
 nipa and a few structures whose lower floor, 
 at least, was of stone, with latticed veranda 
 surrounding the upper story. One of these, 
 close to the edge of the village was distin- 
 guished by a flag staff, from the tip of whicii, 
 limp and bedraggled, hung the stars and 
 stripes. At an opening in the lattice of the 
 veranda sat a pretty girl ; like the flag, Ameri- 
 can beyond question. 
 
 Now, that girl was the major's daughter. 
 He had been wounded during the early days of 
 
A COX(Jli:KlMi CORE'S BAlHli:. 3 
 
 the Tagal insurrection, whereupon her niotlier 
 sailed at once across the seas expecting to 
 nurse him at Manila, and found him. to her 
 amaze, in saddle and Malolos. Once abroad, 
 mamma couldn't well go hack, so much had it 
 cost to come and so many were the army wo- 
 men already in Luzon. To her dismay, and 
 her daughter's delight, she found herself 
 housekeeping without a house maid, cooking 
 without a cook and marketing without a mar- 
 ket. By the time the rainy season was on in 
 good earnest the major was off on an amphi- 
 bious raid after the elusive Aguinaldo, leaving 
 two officers, the regimental band and sixty 
 men to guard the lively bailiwick, containing 
 three American and o\er three hundred Filip- 
 ino families, not to mention a floating popula- 
 tion of some three thousand that had drifted 
 in from the surrounding lowlands of the Pam- 
 pamgas. 
 
 Captain Cross, — th Foot, was the putative 
 post commander. Lieutenant Coates was post 
 adjutant, post commissary, cjuartermaster and 
 post exchange, signal and ordnance officer. 
 If tliat wasn't complication enough for one 
 man there was the further taiudc that he was 
 
4 A CONQUERING CORPS BADGE. 
 
 in love with Bessie BelHngham here in Bally- 
 bag and engaged to be married to a girl in 
 Baltimore. The funny part of it was that the 
 girl had artlessly written and told Ress all 
 about it as soon as she heard of her having 
 gone to Manila. 
 
 But Mr. Coates never dreamed that Bess 
 knew. He thought it safe at first to flirt with 
 her because she didn't know, and she thought 
 it quite as safe to flirt with him because she 
 did. And this was the situation when there 
 came from Manila four convalescent soldiers, 
 privates in the ranks, one of whom was Mr. 
 Philip Fargo, graduate of the University of 
 California, son and heir of a man of wealth 
 and standing on the Pacific coast, and at the 
 close of this steaming, sweltering July day, 
 Mr. Fargo was straddling a plank in the lower 
 branches of that clump of bamboo near the 
 edge of town, garbed in khaki trousers, 
 trimmed off at the knee, a soaked blue flannel 
 shirt and a drab, bangabout felt hat that 
 flapped moistly about his ears. His slim 
 waist was girt with a crammed cartridge belt. 
 His rifle hung close at hand. One bare foot 
 was plunged in the flood and his sotil in melan- 
 
A CONQUERIXG CORPS BADGE. 5 
 
 choly. His shoes were at the barracks and his 
 thoughts at the BelHnghams' — centered on 
 Bess. After six months of quixotic service in 
 the ranks. Mr. Fargo had come to the con- 
 clusion that his father was an oracle and he 
 was an ass. Exalted patriotism might be all 
 right in the abstract, but was all wrong in the 
 ranks. 
 
 He had been a well-to-do dawdler up to the 
 time the war broke out, neither brilliant nor 
 bad. but a genuinely honest, wholesome, 
 modest young chap for whom money had done 
 much but make him happy. He was weighted 
 with the conviction that good looks, good hab- 
 its, good temper, good manners and morals 
 were about all there was to him, and what 
 would they have been without — money? 
 
 He longed for a chance to prove that per- 
 sonally he amounted to something, and so 
 when the war was six months old and he was 
 twenty-six he went and enlisted in the regulars 
 and — away to Manila. Old Fargo fumed, the 
 Club laughed and certain mammas mourned — 
 he would have made a most tractable son-in- 
 law if only he hadn't gone for a soldier. Now 
 Fargo was sick of it all inside of six weeks of 
 
O A CONQUERING CORPS BADC.E. 
 
 his enlistment, but too proud to own it. He 
 was sicker of a fever inside of six weeks after 
 the sharp fighting up the line of the Dagupan 
 railway, but had rejoiced in the fighting, had 
 been mentioned in ofticial reports and was 
 cocksure of liis che\rons when taken down 
 with typhoid. That gave him a set back and 
 could have given him his discharge, but he 
 wouldn't have it. By the fourth of July he 
 was afield — or rather afloat — again, and, his 
 own company being afar off in the mountains, 
 they set the four convalescents to light duty 
 at Ballybag. 
 
 Fargo was at first much bored, but that was 
 before he saw Bessie Bellingham. Now, hav- 
 ing seen her almost daily for nearly a month, 
 he was in worse plight — he was enamored of 
 a girl to whom he was supposed, socially, to be 
 unworthy to speak — he, who had more to his 
 credit at the Hong Kong and Shanghai bank 
 in town at that minute than her father had seen 
 in a year; — he. who b}^ birth, breeding, educa- 
 tion and family connection was, if anything, 
 the honest old soldier's superior, had yet by a 
 freak, become his subordinate of the lowest 
 
A CONQUERING CORPS BADGE. J 
 
 grade, — also hy the fortune of war, his daugh- 
 ter's unknown, unsuspected adorer. 
 
 Coates was the first to find it out, and, know- 
 ing nothing of Fargo's antecedents beyond his 
 descriptive Hst, was properly shocked. "Fargo 
 always wants Number Three post and is will- 
 ing to go on guard every day," was Sergeant 
 Finnerty's report to the post adjutant. 
 "There's such a fine looking young soldier 
 goes by here so often," said Mamma Belling- 
 ham. the same evening, "even now when he 
 has to wade. " It was Bess who said nothing. 
 She had noticed that lately, in a month when 
 marketing was more difficult than even in May, 
 their Filipino servitor appeared time and again 
 with fruits — bananas, mangoes, even mangos- 
 teens — that couldn't be bought within ten miles 
 of town, and fish that never swam so far from 
 the sea — also tender young chickens and fat 
 young pigs that were no kin to the late la- 
 mented of Ballybag. "Chinaman hab got," 
 was Sabino's sole explanation. Mamma had 
 begun to brag to other army women of Sa- 
 bino's superior foraging ability — an unsafe 
 thing to do when others are living on rice and 
 canned salmon. Chinamen did come paddling 
 
8 A CONQUERING CORPS BADGK. 
 
 in their cranky dug-outs to the village walls, 
 but Chinamen, who had anything worth buy- 
 ing, wanted ten prices iov every item, ten times 
 more than army purses could stand. Thrice 
 had Miss Bellingham's bright eyes, aided by 
 her opera glass, discovered Sabino in chat with 
 a Chinaman out on the Angeles road, and 
 twice had mamma's fine looking young soldier, 
 who would wade past there when it wasn't 
 pouring, appeared and joined the two, on both 
 which dates their tea table was garnished with 
 wnld flowers, as indeed it had been on others 
 when she had not discovered the medium. 
 
 "Tell me about that man," said Bess, to Mr. 
 Coates, one moist July evening, as the second 
 relief, on a raft, poled its way past the house 
 en route to the station of the outpost at the 
 bridge, and Miss Bellingham indicated a tall, 
 slender young fellow, with a singularly refined, 
 clear-cut face who wielded a shoving stick with 
 much vim. 
 
 "That's a recruit — Fargo — belongs to ''F" 
 Company, but can't get there. Captain Cross 
 says he's a swell. — 'listed on a bet that he 
 couldn't stand it six months. The brigade 
 surgeon knew him and had a long talk with 
 
A CONQUERING CORPS BADGE. 9 
 
 him when he went through last week, but he 
 won't tell. Where'd you get your flowers?" 
 
 "Those? Oh, Sabino finds them somewhere. 
 What a pretty corps badge, Mr. Coates? 
 When did it come?"' 
 
 .-\nd Miss Bellingham's fine eyes fastened 
 on the left breast of the faded khaki. Coates 
 beamed. The interlocking circles of the 
 Eighth Corps in white and red and blue enamel 
 certainly did credit to their designer as well as 
 to that pull-together command. It was bliss to 
 note her deep interest in the little emblem. It 
 was thrilling to have her bend toward him — 
 the pretty curly head so close to his lips, the 
 slender, taper, white fingers actually toying 
 with the badge as she curiously examined it. 
 
 "You all wear these?" she asked, guilefully 
 content that she had diverted his attention 
 from the flowers, and intent on extracting in- 
 formation interesting to herself. 
 
 "Oh — Th.ere's no regulation about it, I sup- 
 pose, but these finer ones are worn only by 
 the oflicers — in the regulars, that is. There's 
 no telling what the volunteers may do," he 
 added, with the faint disparagement felt by a 
 certain few of these jirofessionals not fortunate 
 
lO A CONQUERING CORPS BADGE. 
 
 enougli to have been tendered volunteer com- 
 missions. 
 
 "Then / could wear one!" she exclaimed, 
 joyously, thinking none the less that she had 
 once seen one, even finer than Coates's, on the 
 blue flannel breast of a sentry out toward the 
 bridge, before the inundation. 
 
 "You ! You could wear this — if you only 
 would!" cried Coates, all Baltimore forgotten 
 in the presence of the belle of Ballybag. And 
 his eager hands, seeking to unclasp and trans- 
 fer it, encountered hers — which dropped on the 
 instant. 
 
 Miss Bellingham demurred. Women and 
 statesmen are much of a mind on one point : 
 Neither an offer nor a nomination should be 
 declined — in advance. She saw his infatua- 
 tion, as politicians read an impending appoint- 
 ment, but it would be unseemly to seem to see 
 it. She knew an avowal was trembling on his 
 tongue, and she did not mind its trembling in- 
 definitely so long as it — only trembled. She 
 knew that the Baltimore girl no longer held 
 place in his heart, but until "officially notified" 
 she would be violating martial, political and 
 feminine precedent by permitting herself to 
 
A CONQUERING CORPS RADGE. I I 
 
 know t'nat slie was being tendered the vacancy. 
 She had let Coates fall in love with her when 
 she knew. — that is she had been told by a total 
 stranger, that he was pledged to another, but 
 she couldn't help that, could she? She drew 
 the line, however, at overt wearing of his corps 
 badge, which was rather over scrupulous, was 
 it not? "Don't take it off, Mr. Coates," said 
 she. "I'd rather not." 
 
 "Has any one been telling you — anything 
 about me?" he queried, with sudden suspicion. 
 
 "Lots," answered Miss Bellingham, veraci- 
 ously. "Dr. Skeels, when he went through 
 after General Lawton, said you were just 
 splendid at Malolos, and Colonel Fitzhugh and 
 — and Major Briggs!" 
 
 "That ain't what I mean," said Coates, mol- 
 lified and pleased none the less. What war- 
 rior isn't when his deeds of valor are pro- 
 claimed ? "I mean — has any woman been say- 
 ing — things that ain't true. — at least that ain't 
 now." 
 
 "O, no-o-o-o, indeed," asseverated Miss Bel- 
 lingham, pursing up her lips. "None whom I 
 know, at least," suddenly mindful of some- 
 
12 A CONQUERING CORPS BADGE. 
 
 thing Kitty Cross had said as to this very 
 affair. 
 
 "Well, you don't know this one." interposed 
 Coates, measurably relieved, yet gazing rather 
 ruefully out over the well watered flats beyond 
 the village. 
 
 "Which one?" queried Miss Bellingham, 
 ingenuously. 
 
 But Coates did not answer. He was look- 
 ing at an elongated speck skimming the sur- 
 face of the flood between town and the east- 
 ward mountains. "That fellow's in a hurry!" 
 said he, as he took up the field glass, lying on 
 the rustic table beside her. 
 
 "A banca!" he continued. "Two natives 
 paddling and a third man in the middle, com- 
 ing full tilt for town, too." He pulled out his 
 watch. "Mail can't be in for an hour yet. 
 Guess I'll have to look into this," and, picking 
 up his campaign hat, he darted through the 
 open casement into the salon and stumbled 
 over two natives, whispering. Both instantly 
 looked preternaturally innocent and feigned to 
 be busy skating in woolen arctics over the 
 hard wood floor. Coates glared at them sus- 
 piciously, but clattered down the stairs, and, 
 
A CONQUERING CORPS BADGE. 1 3 
 
 leaping into a shallow punt, bade the sleepy 
 Tagal, curled in the bow, to shove off. 
 
 "Quite like Venice, isn't it?" he called to 
 Miss Bellinghain and waved his hat as his 
 craft was shoved slowly up street toward the 
 office, while scowling, sullen faces from the 
 covert of the striped curtains in the opposite 
 gallery peered at him, warily. There was 
 still two feet of water on the level, though it 
 was rapidly receding. The wire to the rail- 
 way had been down thirty-six hours, and Cap- 
 tain Cross was blaspheming the hardest 
 worked, if not most efficient, department on 
 the Island — the Signal Corps, as his many- 
 functioned lieutenant stumbled out of the shal- 
 lop. "What brings you in such a hurry?" 
 growled the captain. "Have you heard any- 
 thing?" And the anxiety in the deep-set eyes 
 showed plainly that he had. 
 
 "No," answered Coates, "but there's a banca 
 coming like a streak. C'mup stairs and see 
 for yourself." 
 
 From an upper window the two gazed out 
 over the wooded lakeland to the east. There 
 was the "dugout" almost within pistol shot of 
 the church tower, splitting the water like a 
 
14 A CONQUERING CORPS BAfXiE. 
 
 knife. A picket had hailed and tlic man amid- 
 ships was frantically waving something white 
 — a despatch, probably, for the treed sentry 
 let him by without halting. In five minutes 
 the native paddle pliers were drooping, ex- 
 hausted, over the gunwale, as strong hands 
 hauled the long sharpie close to the steps and 
 a pallid soldier tumbled out. a dripping dis- 
 patch in his hand. Cross and Coates had 
 scurried down to meet him and could not wait 
 to read. 
 
 "What's happened?" demanded the former. 
 
 "Ambushed, sir," was the hoarse whisper in 
 reply, "twenty miles out — the major's killed!" 
 
 "Good God ! — and his wife and Bessie 
 here!" 
 
A CONQUERING CORPS BADGE. I5 
 
 PART II. 
 
 Two weeks later, hy which time tiie am- 
 buscade of Major BelHngham's Httle column 
 was an old story in Manila, there was a new 
 emotion at Ballybag'. The typhoon that fol- 
 lowed the flood had swept out into the China 
 Sea. whirling the waters before it to the end 
 that streams indistinguishable because of the 
 general inundation now became insignificant 
 sloughs. Mud dries (|uickly under Luzon 
 suns when rains come not to liquefy, and now 
 when the winds l)le\v seaward from the moun- 
 tains the dust rose responsi\e from the one 
 street of Ballybag and powdered the uniforms 
 of the guard with detachable khaki. They 
 were few in number, the guard, for Cross had 
 taken forty men. paddled to Bambinoag up the 
 river, waded thence to Balic na Bato and 
 "hiked" from that sanctuary on the hilltop to 
 the scene of the recent traged}'. 
 
 It seems that Bellingham, broken down by 
 the severity (»f the campaign and still weak 
 from wounds and fever, had been induced bv 
 
l6 A CONQUERING CORPS BADGE. 
 
 the doctor to turn over his command to a 
 younger man and, with a small escort, start for 
 Ballybag. The populace had been profoundly 
 peaceable and loyal when, three hundred 
 strong, the column marched through on its 
 eastward way. But the sight of a sick major 
 and a squad of half-sick guards restored latent 
 pluck and patriotism. Six score Tagal sol- 
 diery surrounded Bellingham's litter and es- 
 cort and shot most of them to death before 
 anybody really knew where the volley came 
 from. Then came the old time Indian busi- 
 ness over again. Cross went out to "pursue 
 and punish;" gave the poor mutilated remains 
 Christian burial; sent a scrawl to Coates bid- 
 ding him break the news to Mrs. Bellingham, 
 that the major's remains would hardly bear 
 transportation, and to look sharp to his own 
 sentries lest the Tagals give him a touch of 
 the same treatment. "Better send the women 
 to the railway." he wrote, "they're not safe at 
 Ballybag." 
 
 Coates tried and they refused. ]\Irs. Bel- 
 lingham, it seems, was too much prostrated to 
 be moved ; Bess wouldn't leave her mother, and 
 the other women vowed they'd stand by both. 
 
A CONQUERIXf. CORPS BADGE. IJ 
 
 Mr. Coates could get reinforcements from the 
 railway. 
 
 Ordinarily, perhaps, he could : but. as the 
 flood went out so did the soldiery, in every 
 direction, in search of suspects. This left 
 small garrisons, mere handfuls, at the stations 
 along the line, and no one could be spared for 
 Ballybag. This, too, at a time when Coates 
 caught more native servants whispering in cor- 
 ners, and once whetting holos in a back yard. 
 
 Cross had started on a Sunday evening. His 
 note reached Coates on Wednesday, and the 
 latter lost no time in sending a banca with 
 three men down stream to the railway — two 
 days* march away in dry weather. They 
 went by boat, with the typhoon at their backs, 
 and came back by trail, bearers of much bad 
 news and mud, and were five days making the 
 round trip. Colonel Storke. commanding at 
 the nearest post on the railway, said all his men 
 were ordered out to reinforce Lawton. He 
 hadn't a squad to spare for Ballybag, and the 
 "Amigos" — so-called because of their peace- 
 ful protestations when in j^rcsence of any force 
 of .\mericans — were rising in every direction. 
 Attacks were of nightly occurrence along the 
 
1 8 A CONQl'ERIXCi CORPS KADGE. 
 
 line, and ]\lr. Coates would l)ettcr .^end a 
 courier after his captain and bid him return. 
 It all made Coates sorely anxious just at a 
 time when it wouldn't do to show anxictv. 
 
 The plaza in front of the church being dry- 
 now, Coates ordered evening inspection under 
 arms by way of making imposing show, and 
 got exactly eighteen men into ranks, so that lie 
 failed to impose. Even convalescents in hos- 
 pital for the time being were propped uj) with 
 a gun, and Dr. Blend and his nurses turned 
 out for the show. Then the doctor and the 
 temporary post commander went n\er to the 
 quarters still occupied by the bereaved Belling- 
 hams. They had to have speech with the 
 ladies. 
 
 Bessie met them readily ent^ugh. A sorely 
 stricken girl was she. for dearly had she loved 
 her stern, soldierly, devoted old father, and 
 now was she well nigh worn out with the care 
 of her weeping mother. Truth and candor 
 compel the admission that tlie widow's wail 
 was not so much because of what had become 
 of her husband as what was to become of lier. 
 Bess was young, pretty and "could marry any- 
 body." said she to Mrs. Cross, who came to 
 
A CONQUERING CORPS RADGE. IQ 
 
 coniftirt. "But the only penny I'll have in tlie 
 world is three thousand insurance — and a pal- 
 try pension." She had always liberally spent 
 three-quarters of her husband's small pay. so 
 nothing, of course, was left to her now. Bes- 
 sie's beautiful eyes were filled with woe and 
 weariness as she came into the veranda to meet 
 her callers. It was now the eleventii day after 
 the major's death, and she had had little rest. 
 Moreover, at a time when little delicacies were 
 much needed to tempt the invalid to eat, they 
 were no longer forthcoming. Bess had been 
 stinting he;rself to provide for her mother, and 
 was not too strong as a consequence. 
 
 The Filipino butler when questioned as to 
 possibilities shook his head. Vet Chinamen 
 were to be seen as before when the "fine-look- 
 ing young soldier" was present for duty. Why 
 brought they no tempting dainties now ? 
 
 Even in her grief and despond there were 
 moments when the girl, seeking air and a mo- 
 ment's cjuiet on the veranda, would fall to vague 
 speculation as to what had become of that fine 
 looking young man. She knew, of course, 
 that he had gone with Captain Cross and his 
 detachment. She knew without asking a ques- 
 
20 A CONQUERING CORPS BADGE. 
 
 tion that he was no longer in or about Bally- 
 bag. She knew nothing of the menace of 
 clanger : That was something both doctor and 
 temporary post commander had never men- 
 tioned, but now the time had come when it 
 had to be told. 
 
 Sabino, Spanish schooled, had shown the 
 officers to seats on the veranda, then tapped at 
 the screen door, and Miss Bellingham pres- 
 ently appeared. "Senor Teniente," said he, 
 with proper obeisance, and then busied himself 
 flicking the dust from a mirror on the east wall. 
 
 The officers met her at the open doorway 
 at the middle of the broad, two-storied house, 
 but, seeing that Sabino was at work within 
 earshot, the doctor led her to the end of the 
 veranda before broaching the subject. Even 
 then he lowered his voice and she looked up, 
 startled. ''We cannot be sure of our servants, 
 Miss Bellingham," said he, in explanation. 
 
 "But Sabino speaks no English," she inter- 
 posed, unwilling to be so far beyond her moth- 
 er's call. 
 
 "Speaks, no; but comprehends much that he 
 does not speak," was the answer. "Can you 
 send him of an errand?" 
 
A COXQUERIN'G CORPS BADGE. 21 
 
 "I can."' said Coates. eager to be useful, as 
 well as to remind both that, though only a 
 subaltern, he was none the less now command- 
 ing officer. "Mira, homhrc!" he called at the 
 doorway, "Sabino, aqui!" he called again, as 
 the swarthy native seemed to hesitate. 
 
 "Hush! Mr. Coates. Pray don't call." 
 begged Bessie. "I fear you'll wake mother 
 and she sleeps so little — at night." The good 
 lady seemed to make up for it by day, how- 
 ever, and to sleep soundly while the daughter 
 waked, for no sound came indicating that she 
 was in the least disturbed. 
 
 Coates scribbled a line in his notebook, tore 
 out th€ leaf and gave it to the servant, now 
 standing with expressionless face before them. 
 
 "Al cuartel," said he, despite the fact that 
 he well knew barracks to be well nigh deserted 
 — so did Sabino. He took the paper, how- 
 ever, and vanished. Another moment and the 
 doctor had again led Bessie to the corner 
 farthest from her mother's window. In low. 
 cautious tone he told her that by the morrow 
 Mrs. Bellingham ought to be able to stand a 
 day's voyage to the railway. He could put an 
 awnine over the craft. Trusty boatmen 
 
JJ A CUNyUEKlNl". CORPS BADGE. 
 
 would paddle and a g^iiard would go along in 
 other bancas. *'It will not be risking very 
 much to go." said he. "and it is risking far 
 too much to stay." 
 
 "Why?'' said Bessie. 
 
 Dr. Blend paused and studied lier carefully. 
 ''You are your father's daughter. Miss Belling- 
 ham.'' said he. "and about the only woman I 
 dare break it to. I fear we may be attacked 
 here any night now. and we can hope for no 
 aid." 
 
 Her fingers tightened as they gripped each 
 other in her lap ; her lips set. but. soldier girl 
 that she was, she uttered no sound. 
 
 "Hush!" said Coates. stepping quickly to a 
 lattice screen, then bending down and peeping 
 through. Almost instantly up he sprang, with 
 wrath in his eye. and darted round into the 
 house. A second later arose the sound of 
 scuffle and stifled w'ords. condemnatory in one 
 and expostulatory in another. Then Sabino 
 came shooting out into the sunlight from un- 
 der the veranda, looking aggrieved and hold- 
 ing himself by the seat (^f his flapping white 
 trousers. 
 
 "The scoundrel was listening," panted 
 
A CONQUERING CORPS BAUC.i:. 2^ 
 
 Coates. coming- back. "He had tiptoed round 
 to the side veranda and was crouching there 
 back (jf the screen. 1 caught him at the head 
 of the stairs, gave him a shake, and then sent 
 him to the foot with one kick." 
 
 The doctor shook his head. "Better keep 
 your hand and temper. Coates! But we'll have 
 a guard here to-night. Miss Bellingham, and 
 to-morrow your mother must make an effort. 
 I'll send Lolita over to help you pack." 
 
 Bessie went with them to the head of the 
 stairs, tilled with apprehension and vague 
 trouble. "You must have shaken him 
 soundly." said Blend, stooping and picking up 
 a dingy paper packet that was covered with 
 Tagal hieroglyphics. There was something 
 within. His fingers and thumb tried it and a 
 (|ueer lot)k came over his face. Ripping open 
 the enveloi)e he drew forth a smaller packet, 
 wrapped all in tissue paper. Coates, halted 
 • m the fourth step, turned and looked back. 
 Even professional calm seemed to give place 
 to a tinge (^f subdued excitement as Blend tore 
 away the flimsy paper and brought forth a flat 
 pocket-book ^ji some fine, soft skin. Two let- 
 ters in monogram and gold were stamped on 
 
-'4 A CONQUERING CORPS BADGE. 
 
 tlie flap, F and P, and when opened it was 
 found to contain some seventy-five dollars in 
 American currency, worth over one hundred 
 and fifty in silver pesos. There was some- 
 thing more, half a dozen visiting cards — like 
 this: 
 
 Mr. Philip Fargo, 
 
 University Club, 
 San Francisco. 
 
 "Nab that man, quick, Coates !" said the 
 doctor, unconsciously and illegally assuming 
 the functions of commanding officer. Under 
 other circumstances Coates would have de- 
 murred and given the medical officer to under- 
 stand that his rank of captain carried with it 
 no right to issue even emergenc}^ orders to a 
 lieutenant of the line. To his credit and that 
 of the service in general, be it said. Coates 
 never thought of it an instant. He was oft' 
 like a shot. Rank and precedence are weighty 
 questions in Washington, but less so in war. 
 
 Then our medical man turned again to the 
 girl, now clinging, pallid and trembling, to the 
 baluster rail. "Do not let your mother sus- 
 pect anything. Miss Bessie. I must rely on 
 you. I'll return in a moment.'" Then he. 
 
A CONQUERING CORPS BADGE. 25 
 
 too. went leaping lightly down the black wood 
 stairs. 
 
 Under the table, half way across the salon, 
 mute evidence of the centrifugal powers im- 
 parted to Sabino by the vigorous hand of Mr. 
 Coates. another little packet peeped forth, a 
 gleam of gold at the torn edge of the paper. 
 This she pounced upon and bore to the light. 
 Sabino had indeed been shaken to some pur- 
 pose. Her slender, taper fingers drew forth a 
 dainty toy in blue and red and white enamel, 
 set in solid gold, the workmanship of a famous 
 house in San Francisc<» — a far more costly and 
 beautiful toy than that then pendant on the 
 broad chest of the young post commander. It 
 was the badge of the Eighth Corps as worn 
 by Lawton's old division. This in itself was 
 remarkable, but what made it more so was the 
 fact that, carefully folded in a bit of oiled silk, 
 in the same packet, was a half yard of blue 
 ribbon. She knew it instantly. She had lost 
 it from her gown one gusty evening when 
 they had walked out to the bridge — Mrs. 
 Cross. Kitty and herself, and mamma's "fine 
 looking young soldier'" was on post under the 
 bamhrios at Xo. 3. 
 
26 A CONQUERING CORPS BADGE. 
 
 PART 111. 
 
 There is something ahnost uncanny in the 
 silence of a FiHpino town at night. Even be- 
 fore tlie curfew orders that kept the villagers 
 within bounds after sounding "call to (juarters" 
 on the American bugle, all manner of mirth or 
 revelry seemed to die away with the setting 
 sun. Twilight, mystic hour under Northern 
 skies, they know not in the tropics. There is 
 no gradual blending of gladsome day with 
 gloomy night. Xow, this summer evening, 
 faint, fire-fly glimmer peeped from native huts 
 where the inmates squatted, muttering and 
 puffing their eternal tobacco. Dim and ghost- 
 like, white robed forms flitted from door to 
 door, or darted through black alleyways be- 
 tween hedges of stiff bamboo. This was the 
 case, at least, in rural Ballybag where now, 
 mid September, there was no longer force left 
 to enforce the order against natives visiting- 
 after nine p.m. A little earlier, fora month after 
 the stubborn defence of the barrio, the brawny 
 soldiery from Yankeeland strolled jovially 
 
A CONQUERING CORPS BADGE. J/ 
 
 about the ])lace. lavish and good natured, un- 
 conscious of secret hate, if indeed such hate 
 existed, so smiHng and friendly seemed the oc- 
 cujiants. But the finding of a brace of sentries 
 with their throats slashed from ear to ear had 
 led to sharp reprisals. Pedro Aquena had 
 been shot dead at the post of No. 4 at the land- 
 ing. Augustino Cortina, lowering himself 
 from the second story window of a residence 
 in the fashionable quarter, unluckily lit on the 
 bayonet of a tall youth from the Youghiogheny 
 \^alley. and night prowling ceased for as much 
 as a moon. Xow it had begun again, but no 
 man could know it by means of his ears. A 
 cat is nn more stealthy than a Tagal. even in 
 the snapping bamboo. 
 
 And this was why Coates had put two of his 
 best men on guard at the Bellingham's the 
 night of Sabino's escapade, one at the steps in 
 front. t)ne in the yard in rear, both stimulated 
 with strong coffee and a sense of dangerous 
 duty, and ordered to be all night on the alert. 
 At midnight Coates himself, a revolver gleam- 
 ing at each hip. halted under the shining stars 
 in front of the house, where lay still querul- 
 ously moaning, the distracted widow. — where 
 
28 A CONQUERING CORPS BADGE. 
 
 watched, and read to, and strove to soothe her. 
 the devoted child. 
 
 Other army women, kind and charitable as 
 they ever are in time of trouble, had been there 
 during the afternoon. Lolita. dusky hand- 
 maid and laundress at the hospital, had worked 
 busily under Bessie's supervision, for Coates 
 had put his foot down with firmness hitherto 
 unlooked for in that easily string-led subaltern. 
 All the women were to be sent to the railway 
 with the morrow's sun. Mrs. Cross, her 
 daughter and Mrs. Warner, living close under 
 the wing of the main guard, were safer than 
 were these at the outer edge of town, but no 
 man could say what the night would bring 
 forth. 
 
 Sabino had vanished. No further word 
 had come from Cross. No help could be 
 hoped for from the line of the railway, and 
 now a new apprehension had taken possession 
 of Mr. Coates. How happened it that Sabino 
 had had Private Fargo' s pocketbook and 
 money? He would have been still more ap- 
 prehensive had he heard about that costly corps 
 badge. It was his belief that Sabino had 
 either found or stolen the book, but that was 
 
A CUNL'UERIXG CORPS BADGE. 2C) 
 
 a belief Miss Bellingham did not share. Xor 
 was she in position to say what her theory 
 might be. As matters stood, silence seemed 
 her wiser cc>iirse. 
 
 Army girls, frontier bred as are mosi of 
 them, have seen too much of the American 
 savage to scare easily at the puny Malay. 
 Bessie Bellingham had been one of the best 
 shots with a little Smith & Wesson in old days 
 at Fort Custer. She had a heavier pistol now 
 and well knew how to use it. This night she 
 had twirled its gleaming cylinder and tried its 
 lock to see that all was in trim working order. 
 It was lying on a little table just where her 
 mother could not see it, but easily within her 
 reach as she sat and rocked and read aloud. It 
 was there when she went at ten o'clock to the 
 east gallery and glanced out at the loveliness 
 of the summer night and saw the moonbeams 
 glinting on the bayonet of the silent sentry, 
 peering about him in the lower yard. It was 
 there when, much later, she tripped out into 
 the quaint Spanish kitchen to heat a little broth 
 over a spirit lamp. The kitchen stood in a 
 semi-detached, towerlike, two-story structure 
 at the end of the east gallery, and underneath 
 
30 A CONQUERINfi CORrS BADGE. 
 
 it on the js^nnind floor slept Sabino's half- 
 brother, S.il)ino's half-brother's diminutive 
 wife and two pickaninny Tagals that were the 
 pride of the parents' hearts and. until sorrow 
 weighed, a source of unutterable merriment 
 and delight to Bess. Sorely troubled were 
 those guileless natives over Sabino's disappear- 
 ance. They said little. They looked \olumes. 
 They were pobre-muy pobrc. They knew not 
 of Sabino's wealth. They marveled when 
 shown the pocketbook and its store. They 
 were questioned as to their knowledge, but 
 denied everything. They wept at the sorrow- 
 ful fate of the head of their house. They had 
 but one theory. Sabino must have been kid- 
 napped by bad men from the hills — Igorrotes, 
 or perchance evil doers — Macabebes from the 
 lower river. Did not good Padre Alfonso 
 vouch for his piety — and theirs? 
 
 Their little den was dark and silent as Bessie 
 glanced down the gallery before returning to 
 her mother. The glistening revolver was still 
 there when, half an hour later, she heard low 
 voices out in front and went to listen, and 
 stayed a moment or two. for, after sipping of 
 the grateful bowl. T^lrs. Bellingham had ap- 
 
A CONQUERIXC. CORPS B ADCR. T,\ 
 
 parently composed lierself for a snatch <jf 
 slumber. Coates and his sentry were in mut- 
 tered — ahnost eager, talk. The man was say- 
 ing something she was not meant to hear, and 
 therefore longed tt). She strained her ears 
 and threw back her beautiful wavy, golden 
 hair, hoping to catch his rapid words, for he 
 was telling (^f strange and suspicious sounds 
 as of distant voices and plashing oars. Per- 
 haps over eagerness to catch his words made 
 her deaf to other matters nearer at hand, for a 
 bamboo screen moved stealthily, a curtain 
 fluttered when there was no breeze to stir, and 
 when Coates «;trode suddenly away beyond the 
 gate and toward the tree where the "fine look- 
 ing voung soldier" used to nM)st so fre(|uently 
 during the inundation, and Bess finally tip- 
 toed softly back t<^ her mother's bedside, the 
 light still burned dimlv on the little table where 
 lav her watch and revolver ten minutes liefore. 
 The watch was ticking there busily still, for she 
 took it uj) and noted the hour — 12:20 — and 
 long had she reason to rememl)er it — 
 
 P.ut the revolver was gone! 
 
 Even before she cmild realize her loss, there 
 came from the vard at the rear, stern, sharp. 
 
T,2 A CONQUERING CORl'S BADGE. 
 
 almost savage, the challenge of the sentry — 
 "Halt! Who is thcrcF" Springing to the 
 back gallery, she saw crouching in the dim 
 light close to the rear gate in the bamboo fence, 
 a form in ghostly white — saw the sentry with 
 leveled bayonet advancing sturdily upon it — 
 saw crouching, pantherlike, two forms, dark 
 and dusky in the shadows of the little tower of 
 the servants' quarters, saw them spring forth, 
 a gleam of steel in the hand of each, then, with 
 her instant shriek of warning, came the spring 
 of the Tagal tiger, a stifled, gasping cry, a 
 crash as of tumbling metal, a heavy, sodden 
 fall, a gurgling moan, and away sped the 
 shadows, vanished in a second. Her mother's 
 scream of terror rang from within. The 
 sentry in front tore through the stone-fiagged 
 passage to the rear of the house and stumbled 
 over a prostrate form in khaki and cried out 
 for the guard. Coates came rushing back to 
 the quarters. Sabino's infant nephews set up 
 a shrill wail. Almost instantly there burst up- 
 on the night, from the bamboo thickets to the 
 rear of the post of the guard, a quick crackle 
 and sputter of musketry, followed by stento- 
 rian shout from an Irish sergeant calhng on 
 
A COXgUERlNC. CORPS BADGE. 33 
 
 liis ready men. ami then, almost before she 
 could realize that an attack was opened upon 
 their few defenders, the shutters of two houses 
 across the street were flung open : flash and 
 flame leaped from the casement ; answering 
 shots barked and banged uj) and down the 
 dusty street. The insiirrcclos seemed swarm- 
 ing in the town and all about them. yet. despite 
 the fusilade, over it, loud, shrill and warning, 
 a cry r:'.ng again and again on the night — a 
 cry in an unknown tongue, at sound of which 
 there came rush and scurry from the hedge- 
 rows close at hand. Dim, white-robed forms 
 fled streaking like flying spectres through the 
 by-ways and darted into nipa huts, for, from 
 the side of the river, there rang the loud cheer 
 of a swift running line, and old Cross's voice 
 raging over all — "Hold your fire, you fools! 
 You'll kill your own people !" 
 
 Heaven-directed, the scouting party had 
 come back just in the nick of time. 
 
34 '^ coNgLEKiNc; corps hadge. 
 
 PART 1\'. 
 
 Six months later and the situation at Bally- 
 bag had somewhat changed. Amigos and in- 
 surrectos both were there. So were the band, 
 headquarters and a battahon of the regulars, 
 but the Bellinghams were gone, leaving Coates 
 lamenting. Despite his defection he had de- 
 served better of fate than to fall out of (,)ne en- 
 tanglement into another, wherein he was not 
 wanted, for Miss Bellingham found him sorely 
 in need of consolation at a time when she had 
 none to spare. It was that young devil "Dan 
 Cupid" and that prolific source of similar woes, 
 proximity, that were really to blame. Coates 
 had fallen heels over head in love with bonny 
 Bess, and most loyally had he thought for her, 
 fought for her and profusely, as it turned out, 
 had be bled for her. He fell, indeed, shot 
 down from the o])posite windows after \ali- 
 antly collaring two skulking invaders close un- 
 der her own. One, the brother of the van- 
 ished Sabino, had not even time to hurl away 
 
A COXQL'ERING CORPS nAIX.K. 35 
 
 the incriininating- pistol he had hlched from the 
 sick chamber. The other, with a hand wet and 
 j^ory. still wielded the blood- warm bolo with 
 which, not a minute before, he had slit the 
 sentry's throat. The timely coming of Cross 
 and his men had nipped the well-planned out- 
 break in the bud, and l)rought woe to the hopes 
 of Tagaldom. Smiling and submissive, they 
 had come forth by dozens at the break of day 
 ■'to welcome home to his faithful friends" the 
 brave captain and his heroic men. But Cross 
 ordered instant search of the Padre's house, 
 and found it an arsenal of ammunition. The 
 Alcalde, too. turned out to be a pious fraud. 
 But the man that Coates most longed to see in 
 limbo was Sabino. who came not at all. An- 
 other missing man who came not. even to prove 
 property and claim it, was Private Fargo. 
 
 Six months had passed. Coates had been 
 ofifered a lea\c of al)scnce by an appreciative 
 corps commander, a chance to take a l«^ng sea 
 vcjyage for recuj)eratit)n. an opportunity to see 
 India. Aden. Suez. Malta, "Gib," aye. even 
 Baltimore, and he didn't care to go. but asked 
 to be allowed to recuperate in Manila instead. 
 The I'cllinghams were still there. The pa- 
 
36 A CONQUERING CORPS BADGE. 
 
 ternal general had found means to provide 
 Bess with a paying clerkship with which to 
 support her mother. The paternal general 
 government had found means to withhold that 
 bereaved lady's pension — the fact that she had 
 been known all over the wide frontier, for over 
 a quarter of a century, as Bellingham's own 
 and only wife was of no avail in the eyes of the 
 Washington officials in the absence of a mar- 
 riage certificate that happened to have been 
 burned with the rest of their belongings one 
 bitter winter's night in far Wyoming. There 
 were a dozen officers within a mile of the pen- 
 sion building who could have sworn to the 
 widow's rights in the matter, but it took longer 
 by several months to send all the papers in the 
 case back to Manila, where, but for the charity 
 of friends and the energy of her daughter, the 
 unhappy woman would have been in sorest 
 need. 
 
 Coates stood by them manfully, limping 
 about the Ermita suburb in search of chickens 
 that were not, like the human biped native, all 
 legs and leanness. Mamma was ever ready to 
 receive him and pour her woes into his ear. 
 Bess was too busy. Besides, she thought him 
 
A CONQUERING CORPS BADGE. 2>7 
 
 well enough now to be stumping about Bally- 
 bag and finding out what had become of Sa- 
 bino. of course, and incidentally, perhaps, of 
 the "fine looking young soldier" of whom 
 nothing definite had been heard since just be- 
 fore the night battle. 
 
 "Private Fargo." said Cross's ofticial re- 
 port, "was with the command until, after a 
 forced march of twenty-two miles, we reached 
 the river just after dark. Then it was found 
 that the insurgents had run away the ferry 
 cables and boats and a delay of two hours oc- 
 curred before we could find barges and make 
 rafts sufficient to cross the command. By that 
 time Fargo had disappeared. He had appar- 
 ently wandered off into the darkness and was 
 probably seized by lurking insurgents and, I 
 fear, dispatched without mercy." 
 
 But a story had drifted in that Corporal 
 Forbes had seen Fargo parleying with a China- 
 man, and two men heard a canoe paddling off 
 across the stream, but their hails were unan- 
 swered. San Francisco had sent men of mark 
 to inquire, and all the Eighth Corps within 
 reaching distance of the railway by this time 
 knew that the missing private was a million- 
 
38 A coxyuERixc; corps badge. 
 
 aire or the next thing to it. There had never 
 been doubt that lie was a gentleman. Many a 
 man can be either without being both. 
 
 Then came March, the first of it at least, and 
 tidings from the North. Somewhere about 
 Vigan a troop of cavalry struck the fresh trail 
 of a F"ilipino band; followed and "jumped it" 
 in the early dawn and the outskirts of a pretty 
 inland town. Ordinarily the insurgents got 
 away. This time six were captured, also four 
 American prisoners. One of the latter was 
 Private Fargo who was ordered sent round to 
 Manila by sea as soon as able to travel. \\"\ih 
 him came Sabino to stand trial for his life. 
 
 Arraigned before officials and bidden to ac- 
 Cf)unt for the possession of Private Fargo's 
 pocketbook and all that money. Sabino 
 promptly and confidentially said that Sefior 
 Fargo had given them to him ; nor did official 
 scoffing shake his statement. Private Fargo, 
 summoned before the same presence, was con- 
 fronted with the prisoner and asked how much, 
 if any, of his statement was true. 
 
 "All of it." said Fargo promptly, to the 
 amaze of the provost marshal. 
 
 "Then ask him what the devil he ran away 
 
A CONQrERIXf, CORl'S RADGK. 39 
 
 for." said the Ci)l(iiiel. U^ the interpreter, and 
 the tlemnnd was fairly rendered. Sd was the 
 response. 
 
 "The culprit says he didn't run — he was 
 kicked out" — a reply at which the pencils of 
 the correspondents fairly tlew. 
 
 ■'Will you explain how you came to give this 
 man so much money?" asked the deputy pro- 
 vost marshal, of the private. 
 
 A faint flush rose instantly to the young sol- 
 dier's temples. He glanced quickly about him 
 as though to see who might be present. Coates 
 sat glowering by a window of the great stone 
 building — a window overlooking the grass- 
 grown parapet, the old Botanical Garden be- 
 yond, then the long curve of the dusty road- 
 way, with the stone towers of the Puente Col- 
 gante, the wide-spreading, tent-surrounded 
 buildings of the l''irst Reserve Hospital, and 
 between them the shaded enclosure of the 
 Estad(^ Mayor. Over there, half a mile away 
 as the crow flies, a blue-eyed girl in black was 
 l)ending over the columns of figures on the 
 glaring page before her. and I-'argc* knew it. 
 for only a few days before an attendant had 
 brought him a little packet with the beautiful 
 
40 A CONOUEKING CORPS BAUGi:. 
 
 corps badge he had never looked to see again. 
 The only message with it was a line : 
 
 "Found at Major Bellingham's quarters, 
 Ballybag, September 14th, '99. dropped pos- 
 sibly by Sabino who disappeared on the after- 
 noon of that date." Fargo "back tracked" it 
 all the way to the sergeant of the guard at the 
 Estado Mayor, and there learned that Miss 
 Bellingham had sent it. She had a desk in an 
 office close at hand, they said, and there Fargo 
 found her, yet looked upon his humble imi- 
 form, faltered in the presence of his dead 
 major's daughter and withdrew without seek- 
 ing speech with her. 
 
 How could he now tell these men that it was 
 his hand that, from time to time, sent the little 
 gifts of flowers and fruit, that his money had 
 supplied dainties for their tabic when others 
 had to go without, that it was to keep up the 
 supply during his absence on scout that he had 
 hastily thrust the book into Sabino's receptive 
 palm as he rushed away in the gloaming at 
 sound of the bugle — never questioning Sa- 
 bino's probity, never noting till next day that 
 the corps badge, too, was gone. A weary 
 scout was that with Cross. Filled with strange 
 
A CONQUERING CORPS BADGE. 4 1 
 
 foreboding was he from the very start, and 
 when at last they reached the river on the 
 homeward way and found the ferry cables 
 gone, Fargo slipped down the bank to a clump 
 of huts he had many a time marked from dis- 
 tant Ballybag. and hired a Chinaman to set 
 him ashore at the old stone bridge within sight 
 of the roof that sheltered her — he could not 
 wait — and that move led him straight into the 
 clutches of the insurgent foe. Hours before 
 the fight began he had been whisked away into 
 the jungle and months of captivity. Xot un- 
 til now had he learned that Sabino had thriftly 
 hung on to the cash. Not until now had he 
 really connected him with the disappearance of 
 his costly corps badge. 
 
 And now they wi-shed to know how he came 
 to entrust such a sum to so faithless a servitor, 
 and he shrank fnmi the telling. 
 
 '"I — prefer nr>t to say." was nt last the hesi' 
 tant reply. 
 
 "Surely not because it would incriminate 
 yourself?" frowned the e.xamining officer. 
 
 "Xo. sir. not at all I" 
 
 *'Then the court martial will compel it. so 
 why not now?" 
 
42 A CONQUERING CORPS BADGE. 
 
 Why, indeed, if they knew all about that 
 corps badge, too ? How was he to suppose that 
 she had kept that secret to herself — that she, 
 he and the faithless Sabino were the only ones 
 who could tell the contents of the little packet 
 ])rought in at the First Reserve. Yet, how 
 could he shame her by confession of his mani- 
 fold and lavish gifts, and the purpose, too, of 
 his leaving money with Sabino ? What might 
 not be said of her, his commander's daughter, 
 receiving the bounty of — a private soldier? 
 Let the court martial compel reply, if compel 
 it could! • At least until then he would be 
 dumb. 
 
 A moment of profound silence ensued, 
 
 "Take that man back under guard," were 
 the orders of the provost marshal. 
 
 Full five days elapsed before the assembly of 
 that court, and much, in matters military, can 
 be effected even half around the globe within 
 that time. 
 
 "You're checkmated," said a high official at 
 the Ayuntamicnto, to the judge advocate, and 
 held forth a cable despatch from the Secretary 
 of War. In brief, curt cipher it directed the 
 immediate discharge from service of Private 
 
A CONgUERIXC; CORPS BADGE. 43 
 
 P. Fargo. Company "X" — L'. S. Infantry. 
 Once more was Phil a sovereign citizen who 
 conld not be made to testify before a military 
 CDurt — the experience of even a Presidentialiy 
 ordered martial triljunal having demonstrated 
 that, in Chicago, at least, it has no rights either 
 the press or the public can be made to respect. 
 
 It must be said of Fargo that he behaved 
 toward his late "oppressors" with rare mag- 
 nanimity. The transition from soldier to civil 
 life in Manila is easy, since the simplest of 
 white raiment ser\"es as "Sumlay best" for 
 bt->th and such garb is quickly made even in the 
 land of mafiana. Fargo couldn't give much of 
 a dinner because of the poverty of the Manila 
 market and the limitations of Manila restaur- 
 ants. l)ut Mumm in abundance, properly cooled, 
 covereth a multitude of short comings, and 
 Mumm was the word even when a laughing 
 grouj) of e.xiles. mainly shoulder-strapped, 
 gathered to congratulate him on the record he 
 had made in the ranks and on his speedy return 
 to the States. 
 
 "Well. 1 may not return — at once." said 
 Fargo, again flushing a bit. "1 may run over 
 
44 A CONQUERING CORPS BADGE. 
 
 to Hong Kong- first," he added, hurriedly, as 
 he caught Coates's eye. 
 
 And Coates was thinking — hard. 
 
 So was Bessie Bellingham, who had heard 
 promptly enough how Fargo had refused to tell 
 about that money, and who well knew who else 
 could have told, — at least who could have 
 guessed, though she wouldn't tell for the 
 world. To think of his submitting to arrest, 
 threats, punishment rather than tell what 
 might have told the whole story! To think 
 that mother's ''fine looking young man," — de- 
 spite the flapping campaign hat, the flannel 
 shirt, the sliced-off khaki inexpressibles — was 
 a club young man, a college young man, a 
 young man of the "capitalistic class" ! She 
 had encountered that term somewhere in the 
 course of her reading aloud to papa in the long 
 winter evenings before the outbreak of the war. 
 A big tear fell on the back of the slender white 
 hand as she recalled those homelike hours after 
 her return from school days in the East. How 
 fond and proud he had been ! What comfort 
 he had taken in her devotion to him ! What 
 uneasiness he had shown when the youngsters 
 came in to call and break up their cozy hours 
 
A CONQUERING CORPS BADGE. 45 
 
 together! He was ever so afraid some young 
 officer would come in and carry her off, — and 
 mamma so correspondingly afraid that some 
 one would not ! — all that first winter of her 
 home coming. — the only one of all they. had 
 hoped and planned for, — the only one, after 
 all, for in April the regiment had been ordered 
 away to Cuba and from there back to Wyom- 
 ing, just to pack up for Manila. And now 
 there was no dear old daddy, fond and proud, 
 to read to and rejoice in. She could read, she 
 might read to mamma, but — 
 
 And now mamma, querulous and com- 
 plaining, was calling from an inner room 
 — they had but two — and the girl set 
 down upr>n the broad white window ledge 
 the old opera glass which had so often 
 gazed out over the fields and flats and 
 floods about Ballybag, and through which she 
 had been studying the swift-darting carriages 
 over along the sea wall of the Luneta. The 
 day had been insupportably hot, the glare in- 
 tense. The evening breeze off the beautiful 
 bay was now soft, cool and inviting. It was 
 the first really restful hour, and mamma 
 seemed tn realize it and called her. Bess went 
 
46 A CONQUKRINC, CORPS HADGK. 
 
 Willi a sigh. Perhai)s she felt what was com- 
 ing. Perhaps she was only mindful of a cer- 
 tain maternal peculiarity that used to prompt 
 that piously disposed matron, in her hours of 
 ease and dejection, to summon the child from 
 her joyous companions, and to sober her 
 daughter's blithe spirits by long homilies on 
 the uncertainty of human life and die liollow- 
 ness of human affection, with especial refer- 
 ence to her father's short-comings in the latter 
 line. Having spent eight hours of the day in 
 labor that the mother might not want, it now 
 behooved the girl to spend another, at least, in 
 listening to her upbraidings. 
 
 "1 suppose you know Mr. Coates has been 
 to see me," was the salutation, and the elder 
 slowly i)lied her big Chinese fan and narrowly 
 watched her daughter as she spoke. 
 
 "He comes almost every day, doesn't he?" 
 was the guarded answer, as Bessie sank into a 
 seat near the maternal lounging chair. 
 
 "Almost!" impatiently. "Ezrry day, and 
 you know it, Elizabeth!" Mrs. Bellingham 
 could never bear that name. It was that of her 
 husband's favorite sister, now deceased. She 
 used it onlv on state (Occasions or when she 
 
A CONQUERIXt; CORPS BAIKiE. 47 
 
 wished to he unusually impressive if n(»t severe. 
 "Moreover, you knnw it's liigh time you ^avc 
 liim an answer." 
 
 '"Another?" 
 
 "Ves, another! A ihttercnt one. it you will 
 have it. and he deserves it after all he's done 
 for you — and within a file of his captaincy. t(jo 
 — and sure to get it this month." Mamma was 
 bridling and the fan going at speed. 
 
 "The — answer, do you mean?" now t(ueries 
 Miss Bellingham. guilelessly, yet guiltily. She 
 knows better. Moreover, she knows that be- 
 fore she knew of Fargo — and even after that — 
 and while she had reasiMi to know of Coates's 
 plighted troth, she — she let Coates come every 
 day in growing admiration, because — oi 
 course. — because it was perfectly safe, he being 
 pledged to another and presumably in love. 
 She had even allowed herself to be what Mr. 
 Howells calls "intentionally beautiful" at 
 Ballybag.and for C<uites's arrient eyes and Miss 
 Cross's envious contemplation. — Kitty being 
 five cyclesher senior in years. and several shades 
 her inferior in attractions. W'iiat harm could 
 there be when he had sup])osably no eyes ex- 
 cept fcr lii>. P,;iltiin')rf bciutv?* .Xnd n<>\v that 
 
48 A CONQUERING CORPS BADGE. 
 
 brave, stupid, foolish fellow had gone and for- 
 gotten his far-away love and allowed his affec- 
 tions to fasten on her ! 
 
 "His captaincy, I mean," says mamma, "and 
 it's much more than you deserve. When I 
 married, your father was only a second lieute- 
 nant. Don't think you can aft'ord to fool away 
 your time here." (Mamma, alas! did not use 
 the diction prescribed at Ogontz) "Girls 
 are coming by every boat, but bachelors are 
 scarcer than — than ice — No, I can't see any 
 one this evening, Felippy," — this to a Filipino 
 lad, who appeared barefooted and patient at 
 the doorway, a card extended in his brown 
 fingers. "Who is it, Bessie?" 
 
 "A — a gentleman who called at the Bureau 
 yesterday," falters Miss Bellingham, with 
 color suddenly rising. Had Coates enlight- 
 ened mamma as to Mr. Fargo's transforma- 
 tion? She herself had never referred to it — 
 nor to him. Their sole reception room was 
 the partially enclosed veranda at the front, and 
 thither had "Felippy" conducted the caller be- 
 fore coming to thus mutely announce him. 
 
 "Mr. P. Fargo, University Club, San Fran- 
 cisco," reads mamma from the card dutifully 
 
A ^.0.\(Jl KKI Nt, tiiKl'.s i'.ADGE. 49 
 
 passed tu her. '"I'm sure / know of no such 
 ])erson. If this is any reason why you — you 
 are playing fast and loose with Sam Coates — " 
 
 -Mother!" 
 
 ■'Well, next time he comes you'll just have 
 to see him for yourself. 1 shan't. What's this 
 Mr. Fargo like? — " 
 
 But the daughter had fled to her little sanc- 
 tum within and was dashing cool water on her 
 wri.-ts and hrow. She looked — ayd was — 
 composure itself when she joined Mr. Fargo 
 on the gallery, and found him, as she was 
 awhile ago, gazing out on the Luneta, now 
 fast fading under the robe of night. 
 
 \'cry presentable looked Mr. Fargo in im- 
 maculate white drilling, with silken gloves and 
 hose and canvas shoes as snowy, and a face 
 well nigh as pale. Just one speck of color ap- 
 peared on his dainty garb. The little jeweled 
 corps badge in scarlet, l)luc and white enamel 
 and polished gold hung at his left breast. He 
 looked so cool and fresh and white, and her 
 garb was so black and sombre, but he never 
 seemed to see it as he turned and greeted her 
 — eagerly. 
 
 "I must ask you to forgive my intruding so 
 
50 A CONQUERING CORPS BADGE. 
 
 soon again,'" said he. "I have — news. I am 
 called at once to Hong Kong." 
 
 The 1)lue eyes looked up instantly into the 
 brown. This Avas so diflferent from what he 
 had told her — yesterday. 
 
 "Yes. they cabled me to-day. Father's cor- 
 respondent in the China trade is very ill and I 
 am needed. They expected me to he there ten 
 days since, really, but — " 
 
 "Won't you be seated. jMr. Fargo? ^Mother 
 will be here — directly.'' It was one way at 
 least of letting him know he was detaining un- 
 necessarily a long, slim, white hand. 
 
 "Oh, thanks, yes.'' And now Mr. Fargo 
 remembers that he should have asked for 
 mother, as he lowers himself into a cane chair 
 six feet away and three feet broad and deep, 
 while Miss Bellingham slowly settles upon a 
 light bamboo and leans an elbow on the broad 
 ledge of the gallery. It is getting darker still 
 and the electric globes are sparkling over at 
 the kiosk and all along the Luenta drive. 
 Every now and then a carriage whisks along 
 under their perch, its white-garbed occupants 
 looking up and lifting their white-topped caps, 
 for Miss Bellingham is very much looked up 
 
A CONQUERING CORPS BADGE. 5 1 
 
 to and admired in army circles. Most of the 
 linesmen are away at the front, but guards 
 must be maintained, and staff officers in 
 swarms are needed in Manila. The big chair 
 is too big — too far away, perhaps, for Mr. 
 Fargo impatiently heaves his long length out 
 of its depths and impulsively draws nearer to 
 her. Bess herself is tall, but Mr. Fargo has 
 nearly six feet to his credit and bears it well. 
 Now his white elbow comes down on the rail 
 as he bends toward her. his dark eyes seeking 
 the bright blue. 
 
 "Yes," he continues, his thin face working 
 oddly, and his eyes glowing into hers as at 
 first she lifts them — bravely, "I ought to have 
 gone as soon as my discharge was ordered, but 
 I — just missed the Esmeralda — At least," he 
 hurries on. "I wasn't ready. Miss Belling- 
 ham. Fve got to be at the general's this even- 
 ing and to sail at dawn. There was no way of 
 asking permission to call upon you, — no time 
 to be conventional. I beg you to pardon it, — 
 to believe that under other circumstances I 
 should have sought permission. Fve come — 
 There was something else I wanted and could 
 not ask vmi for at the — office. Vou sent me 
 
5-2 A CONQUERING CORPS BADGE. 
 
 my corps badge, but, that — little blue ribbon 
 that was with it — ^iDray, didn't you find that, 
 too?" 
 
 Indeed she had ! the very ribbon that blew 
 away unseen by her or her companions that 
 breezy evening when Coates so cavalierly 
 acknowledged the "present" of the "fine look- 
 ing young soldier" on No. 3. Indeed she had, 
 and had unrolled it with wonderment and 
 strange emotion of pleasure, and had guarded 
 it carefully ever since — even though now she 
 mendaciously falters : — 
 
 "Find it? — O, yes, but I — didn't suppose it 
 had any value." 
 
 "Value !" he cries, and now he bends still 
 closer to her. and she cannot but shrink a little, 
 so eager is the movement, so glowing is his 
 gaze, so thrilling his tone. "Miss Bellingham, 
 I've come to beg for it. -I cannot go without 
 it. I wore that ribbon near my heart until the 
 night we hurried away. It dragged out with 
 the pocketbook, I suppose, and probably Sabino 
 found it. I want it again. Ah, don't draw 
 away. I've got to say it, no matter how sud- 
 den it may seem, I've loved you ever since I 
 saw you there at Ballybag — loved you so that 
 
A CONQUERING CORPS P.ADGE. 53 
 
 I can't 2^<) and leave you here slaving in this 
 scorching climate. Oh. look at me, Bessie! 
 Look up into my eyes — read it for yourself — 
 Can't you see how I love you? Giz'c me my 
 ribbon that 1 may know 1 may come back to 
 you — 1(^) l)eg you to be my wife." 
 
 \\'ho was it said "lieware of entangling alli- 
 ances?" Shades of the immortal George! 
 Whoever dreamed that in faraway Manila, 
 within easy sail of the oldest philosophy of the 
 world, these, his children of a nation barely a 
 century old. should so far forget the teachings 
 of the father of his coimtry ! "Entangling alli- 
 ances," indeed! Hers was a straight backed, 
 stiff-backed chair. She couldn't draw away 
 fartlier even were she so inclined. On the 
 left breast of the snowy sack coat just over his 
 bounding heart that pretty corps badge, obey- 
 ing the natural law of gravitation and seeking 
 the vertical now that he was leaning so far for- 
 ward, was dangling from its golden bar. and 
 there was her curling crop of golden hair, its 
 tendrils twining instinctively as the vine about 
 anv [)rojecting support. Only for an instant, 
 oh. certainly only for the merest instant — and 
 bv the merest accident, those lovelv tendrils. 
 
54 A CONQUERING CORPS BADGE. 
 
 that dainty, dangling, tangling corps badge are 
 in juxtaposition, but, "a miss is good as a mile," 
 that instant is good as an age, for when 
 "Felippy" comes shuffling in with a lamp, just 
 preceding mamma and her fan, corps badge and 
 curls are hopelessly entwined. Her blushes 
 are beautiful to see. Her struggles are frantic. 
 There is no need of blue ribbon to wrap round 
 that martial insignia when at last she tears 
 loose, for his efforts to unfasten it are vain. 
 The twin circles of the Eighth Corps are 
 twined with golden hair, and mamma stands 
 glaring at the "fine looking young soldier" of 
 Ballybag days, practically embracing her 
 •daughter, for his left arm is certainly around 
 her as he aids her to rise. 
 
 "Well — I declare !" says madame, unable to 
 say anything else. 
 
 "That's — just what I've been doing," says 
 Fargo, promptly facing the inevitable. "But 
 — it was rather sudden. I suppose, and I — 
 haven't had much experience," he adds, in hap- 
 less humility. 
 
 "Elizabeth, is not this the young man that — 
 Oh, what zuoiild your poor father have said? I 
 wonder you can look Mr. Coates in the face!" 
 
A CONQUERING CORPS BADGE. 55 
 
 This is too much for Miss Bellingham. She 
 starts from her lover's side, a flash in her bright 
 blue eyes. '"Mother!" she cries, "father would 
 have blessed — " but gives way to a flood of in- 
 dignant tears, for there stands Lieutenant 
 Coates, speechless, at the door. 
 
 "Excuse me." stammers the intruder. "I 
 knocked twice, and the doors were open and 
 Felipe beckoned, but I didn't mean to inter- 
 rupt." 
 
 In the language of the day "it was up to 
 Fargo." He alone can explain and right man- 
 fully he does it. "Mrs. Bellingham," he says, 
 w ith a little choke in his voice that seems to fit 
 in with the words, "I was the young man in — 
 the lieutenant's company. I enlisted from sen- 
 timental motives, perhaps. So did other fellows 
 I know, and Fm neither sorry nor ashamed. 
 It brought me to — your daughter. So long as 
 1 was a soldier I couldn't speak, for all I loved 
 her. Now I am free, yet must go to China in 
 the morning. I should have come first to yuu, 
 I admit, but there was no time. I have begged 
 Miss Bellingham to be my wife, and I'm com- 
 ing back to get my answer." 
 
 Then he turns to her. his lips trembling: 
 
56 A CONQUERING CORPS BADGE. 
 
 "Forgive me for this scene — that my awk- 
 wanhiess has caused you. 1 must go at once, 
 l)ut I shall write. Good-night, Miss Bessie," 
 and he bows over her lini]) white hand like a 
 courtier of old. "Good-night, Mrs. Belling- 
 ham." and he bends in formal respect, almost in 
 stately obeisance, to the elder lady, speechless 
 for the nonce behind her fan. "G(^od-night — 
 Mr. Coates," and the inclination to his late 
 superior officer is just what civility requires, 
 and Avith another, a comprehensive, bow, at the 
 threshold, Mr. Fargo steps forth into the night 
 and his waiting carriage. 
 
 The little brown imp of a coachman had been 
 saving of his candles. The lamps were not yet 
 lighted, and regulations were strict on that 
 point. It had to be done before the)'^ coulcj 
 start, and meantime down came Coates. looking 
 aimless and dazed. Moreover he was still 
 lame, and the men at least had loved him for a 
 brave and kindly officer. 
 
 "May I drive you anywhere in town, Mr. 
 Coates?" said Fargo. "I'm going right up to 
 the palace." Something in her face had filled 
 his heart with li('i)c and gladness and charity 
 
A CONQUERING CORPS BADGK. 57 
 
 for all men, and his hand was clasped upon the 
 soft, silken tendrils still hanging on his breast. 
 
 "Thanks — nuich obliged — I believe not to- 
 night." said Coates. as he limped away, think- 
 ing- ruetnllv that he was driven whether he 
 would or no. He wasn't over brilliant, but he 
 had read and seen enough. 
 
 P^argo was gone nearly two months, but long 
 before his return the engagement of Miss Bel- 
 lingham was announced by mamma ; long, in- 
 deed, before Miss Bellingham would have an- 
 nounced it herself, and some fabulous tales 
 were afloat, indirectly traceable to the exultant 
 matron, concerning Fargo's wealth and social 
 positic^n. Mrs. Bellingham. for a woman wid- 
 ow-ed and woe-begone so short a time before. 
 had displayed remarkable powers of recupera- 
 tion — "was in her glory," said certain envious 
 mothers, with daughters of their own not yet 
 provided for. It was c|uite the romance of the 
 early .spring. It was a beautiful ring the happy 
 felUnv slipped upon that slender finger the night 
 of his return, and .she thanked him with shy 
 delight and love in her beaming eyes. 
 
 '•\\'1h> di> VI )U supp(»sc was buying another in 
 
58 A CONQUERING CORPS BADGE. 
 
 the same shop?" is tlie laughing question, a 
 Httle later. 
 
 "Captain Coates?" she answers, interroga- 
 tively. "He said he was going by way of 
 Hong Kong when he bade us good-bye." 
 
 "Captain Coates it was! and the ring was for 
 a Baltimore girl. He told me they'd been en- 
 gaged for nearly two years, and d'you know, 
 sweetheart, 1 fancied — " and Mr. Fargo pauses, 
 reflectively. 
 
 "What — Mr. Fargo?" The woman in her 
 may resent all accusation of having in the least 
 degree encouraged other admirations, yet in no 
 wise does it repel assertion of their existence. 
 
 "Mr. Fargo, indeed!" he remonstrates, vehe- 
 mently. "Can't you call me Philip yet? Your 
 mother finds it easy," he adds, with whimsical 
 delight, but the instant shadow on her f(3nd and 
 lovely face covers him with self reproach. "For- 
 give me. Bessie," he murmurs, all love and con- 
 trition on the instant. "I want to be Philip to 
 her — to all who are near and dear to you, but 
 to you most of all," and now his arms encircle 
 her and draw her to his breast — mamma hav- 
 ing considerately left them to their own devices 
 and sent Felipe to the commissary's. She 
 
A CONQUERING CORPS BAIXIE. 59 
 
 nestles there one moment, with drooping head. 
 It is all so new and sweet and strange a happi- 
 ness, and work and want and care seem now so 
 very far away. His lips are pressing kisses on 
 her rippling hair, but the fair face is pillowed 
 beyond their reach, and he so longs for it. An 
 effort to upraise it results only in its burrowing 
 the more closely — deeply, whereat, instead of 
 rejoicing in the blissful contact, he suddenly 
 flinches, and most unaccountably, unromantic- 
 ally says "Ouch !" 
 
 The bonny head pops up instanter, prompt 
 consternation in the big blue eyes. 
 
 "Oh I I've hurt you!" she cries. 
 
 "T'wasn't you — It's — something way in- 
 side." he says, and opening the loose, Manila- 
 made, grass-cloth coat, his hand explores be- 
 neath, exposing the white silken shirt and, as 
 it withdraws, drags partially to light an end of 
 a frayed, bright blue ribbon, whereat the 
 blushes deepen on her dimpling cheek. "It's 
 the pin of that blessed corps badge," says 
 Fargo. "The thing got twisted in the inner 
 pocket and spiked me in the ribs. It's all right 
 now." and again the arms enfold her. Shyly 
 she drops her head ui"ti b!< ^boulder, the slcn- 
 
6o A CONQUERING CORPS BADGE. 
 
 der, white hand whereon the beautiful ring is 
 gleaming, creeps up and timidly draws to light 
 an inch or two of the prized blue ribbon. He 
 seizes hand and ribbon both and draws them to 
 his lips. 
 
 ''It seemed a mighty long time before that 
 little ribbon came back to me over the China 
 Sea, Miss Bellingham. I began to think Coates 
 had the inside track — and that it wasn't I — but 
 the corps badge that drew you here — that won- 
 derful evening." 
 
 "Oh — you — drczv all right," answers Miss 
 Bellingham, falling unconsciously into the lan- 
 guage of the camp and the Corps. Then, dimp- 
 ling again, delight and mischief mingling in her 
 hai)py, hidden face, she waits an instant ; then — 
 bcwilderingly. bewitchingly pretty, she glances 
 up into his eyes, "But it was the badge that — 
 ilidn't — let 2'0." 
 
J 
 
 - '' r 
 
 '4- 
 
 i 
 
 "PIT-A-i'ATTY. 
 
JACK ROYAL. 
 
 "A fiueer thing happened out there at Block 
 House 1 1 t' other night." began the aide-de- 
 camp. "Royal was on guard and a carriage 
 came bounding over Concordia Bridge — " 
 
 And here the aide-de-camp stopped short and 
 turned sharply on a brother staff officer who 
 had with prompt and amazing vigor brought 
 his booted heel down on the toes of the 
 speaker. 
 
 "What in h — " again began the aide-de- 
 camp, in agonized query, then again stopped 
 short at sight of the offender's face. In dumb 
 show his brother officer was all but saying. 
 "Shut up.you idiot !"as he glanced significantly 
 to where a middle aged civilian sat in earnest 
 converse with the General. 
 
 It was just after dinner, and dinner in 
 Manila in the days preceding the outbreak of 
 
62 JACK ROYAL. 
 
 hostilities in l-cbruary. 1899, was not the 
 movable feast it became later in the campaign. 
 At 7:30 sharp the Filipino major domo, yclept 
 Marcelino, expected the General, his staff and 
 the few guests from the neighboring barracks 
 or from town to take their seats before permit- 
 ting the procession to enter from the outer re- 
 gions. Then 
 "Foremost and bearing the bowl 
 Came the Philippine's practical neighbor" 
 in the person of Ah Lung, chef dc cuisine — a 
 graduate of the Hong Kong ciub and a knight 
 commander of the Order of the Skillet, and 
 Ah Lung's smile was broad as he deposited the 
 huge tureen in front of the General, for it was 
 a fad of that single — and sometimes ill-starred 
 veteran personally to serve the baker's dozen 
 daily in evidence at" their hospitable board. 
 Following at the heels of Ah Lung, in spotless 
 white, came Fabian and Manuelito, natives 
 here and to the manner born, who were the 
 official waiters of the brigade mess, and who 
 took station, respectively, to the right and left 
 rear of the "Old Man," as, through later revela- 
 tions, it was established the brigadier was be- 
 dubbed by his staff. Over the ceremony cere- 
 
JACK l<()^ Ai.. 63 
 
 moniously presided Marcellino. graduate of the 
 menage of a Spanish grandee who had come 
 to Manila to repair his fallen fortunes at the 
 expense of those that remained to the luckless 
 natives. It had l^een the habit of the General 
 and his statif. earlier in the winter, to sit at mess 
 in the cool white garb so suited to the climate, 
 but matters at the front had changed all that. 
 Every night of late the chief and his retainers 
 had spent riding the line, with occasional cat- 
 naps in I'aco suburb, out Santa Ana way, and, 
 as men had to be at their posts early in the 
 night, it resulted that only those who were not 
 "on watch" came to table in white; the chief 
 in blue serge or khaki and the aides in either, 
 giving a diversity to the coloring of the board. 
 And this night there happened in a civilian 
 whose customary suit of solemn black was un- 
 relieved by glaring white shirt front. He was 
 buttoned up in sombre alpaca : had just re- 
 turned from Hong Kong; had no dress clothes 
 nearer than his home at Santa Ana; had need 
 to see the General, he said, on personal busi- 
 ness, and. despite his protests, was induced to 
 stay. dine, and was now taking a post prandial 
 smoke in :m o;i<v clKiir out on the l)road ve- 
 
^4 JACK ROVAI.. 
 
 randa tliat overlooked the ever 1)eantifiil bay 
 of Manila. 
 
 It was a lovely January evening, soft, still 
 and starlit. The rythmical plash of the wave- 
 lets on the sandy beach fell in soothing ca- 
 dence on the ear. The distant war dogs of 
 the Yankee fleet off Cavite were trying their 
 search lights and tossing great beams of silver 
 athwart the skies, ever and again sweeping the 
 long concave semicircle of the south shore with 
 jealous and unwinking eye, and "spiering" as 
 Bruce said, far over to Manila. Bruce was a 
 high functicuiary of the Hong Kong and 
 vShanghai bank and a pillar of the English 
 Club — and church — and Bruce, a welcome 
 guest at any time, had declined to stay to din- 
 ner that night. He pleaded an engagement, 
 but the foot-crushing aide noted that not until 
 Bruce saw the black-garbed civilian did that 
 engagement occur to him. He had gone so 
 far as to take an ante prandial peg with the 
 adjutant general in that official's own room 
 and then, coming out on the rear veranda 
 where sat the chief in converse with the stran- 
 ger, Bruce had shaken hands most cordially 
 w'ith the former and very awkwardly and re- 
 
JACK ROYAL. 65 
 
 luctantly with the latter. It was plain he 
 didn't like him, when to the General's "I pre- 
 sume you know yh. Pettibone," Bruce re- 
 sponded. "Er — ah — yes. yes. How' do?" 
 
 I 'or a man who claimed to be Boston ^o the 
 backbone. \Ir. Pettibone bore few of the birth- 
 marks of Back Bay. He had turned up in 
 Manila soon after the American occupation in 
 August, and was energetic in business of some 
 mysterious kind. He had pervaded the Ayun- 
 tamiento for a month or so until the sentry be- 
 gan one day asking his business before letting 
 him up-stairs. Then he was much in evidence 
 ab' ut the depot quartermaster's. And then 
 there arrived his family, the wife, too young 
 looking to be the mother of either the callow 
 youth who escorted her, or of his sister, the one 
 redeeming member of the family circle. She 
 came just in the nick of time, for Jonas Petti- 
 bone had lost favor in the eyes of the elect and 
 was cold-shouldered about Manila as curtly as 
 though he sought to borrow money. 
 
 \\ hen the original commander of the depart- 
 ment took his departure he bequeathed his 
 suspicions of Pettibone to his revered succes- 
 S'T. !)Ut {!i;it was bofMri- P;ittv Pet till, .in- ranie 
 
66 JACK ROVAL. 
 
 upon the scene. "Pit-a-Patty" the young offi- 
 cers began to speak of her presently, in allusion 
 to the effect she had on the hearts of her ad- 
 mirers, and they were many. Xor was her 
 step mother deficient in charms, though some- 
 what more mature, nor was she averse to pa- 
 rading them. It was indeed because of this 
 proclivity on part of his spouse that Pet took 
 alarm, and no sooner did the Insurgents issue 
 their mandate to the effect that the Yankee 
 officers would no longer be allowed to visit in 
 the villages outside the line encircling Manila, 
 than lie jumped at a chance to rent a furnished 
 house in Santa Ana, a delightful little suburban 
 town on the bank of the Pasig not three miles 
 from the heart of the city, and thither in Janu- 
 ary had he moved Mrs. "Pet", as I regret to 
 say the youngsters called her, Jonas, Jr., who 
 amounted to nothing, and "Pit-a-Patty" who 
 amounted to a great deal. 
 
 Now, while living in ]\Ianila the Pets had 
 sported a very natty little open carriage and 
 pair, and madame and her shy, silent, wistful- 
 looking stepdaughter appeared every evening 
 among the promenaders en voiture along the 
 Luneta. For a time, too, it was their habit to 
 
JACK UOVAL. 67 
 
 draw up to the curb near the bandstand, and 
 there they were speedily joined by Parke and 
 Kitson. subalterns of the Fifty-third, and 
 sometimes by "Patsy" Bolivar of the Cavalry, 
 and always by handsome Jack Royal, of the 
 Washingtons. whose company was quartered 
 far out on the Calle Xozaleda, but who never 
 minded a two-mile tramp each way or cold 
 soup and fish on his return, so long as he could 
 look love for thirty minutes into the eyes of 
 pretty Patty Pettibone. Other fellows there were 
 who would gladly have cut in for the running 
 and cut out Jack, but he took no chances. Not 
 until they began doubling the outposts and 
 calling on his company for duty at the far 
 front did he miss an evening, and that was only 
 just before Pet moved his family to Santa 
 Ana. If. then, Jack Royal so steadfastly "held 
 the pole" and his place by the left rear wheel 
 — Patty's side — how came it that Parke, Kit- 
 son and Bolivar were so constant? Ask Mrs. 
 Pet. Better than any of her far-sighted sex 
 she could sec just how far she had impressed 
 those most impressionable young warriors, and 
 mightily she liked it. It is an ill wind that 
 blows nobodv good. So absorbed were they 
 
68 JACK KOVAL. 
 
 in their charmer, so engrossed was she in 
 charmini^-. that Patty and Jack were so com- 
 jjletely and bhssfnlly ignored as to be able to 
 coo and murmur and look unutteralilc things, 
 and the course of true love ran smooth and 
 sweet as a Filipino manifesto until Pet saw fit 
 to ransack his wife's bureau one evening when 
 she was at the Luneta and he supposedly still 
 at Ilo Ilo. and therein he found a note of an- 
 other kind — several notes — that jarred like 
 sweet bells jangled, and that night there was a 
 row. No more did the ladies drive alone. Pet 
 sat scowling on the front seat and borbade the 
 diminutive cochcro to rein up anywhere. Two 
 or three young regulars experienced no little 
 chagrin, and thirty or more no no end of mis- 
 chievous delight, over the sudden break in those 
 blissful relations. But Jack Royal was too 
 deeply, honestly, squarely in love to be laughed 
 at, and the only fellow who tried it was a young 
 "tough" who had got into the regiment 
 through pi^litical "pull" and went out of it with 
 an official "push" that never let up till he was 
 safe across the sea. But that was because of 
 a case of "white feather" that blackened his 
 record — of "cold feet" that de\-eloped in the 
 
JACK ROYAL. 69 
 
 heat of battle — not solely because of the knock 
 out he got at the hands of Jack Royal, whose 
 heart was sore as the offender's head, and 
 sore-hearted men are hard hitters. 
 
 Then as there were hours when Pet li^d to 
 be about his business and madanie persisted in 
 receiving visitors, the move to Santa Ana fol- 
 lowed. Once there Pet thought his birdling 
 safe from followers. He took the carriage 
 e\ery morning himself to town and drove back 
 only toward dusk. He imagined that thereby 
 he prevented his wife from coming into Ma- 
 nila, and that the Filipinos would as effectively 
 prevent the young officers from going to Santa 
 Ana. But Pet wasn't as bright as his wife by 
 any means. There was nothing to prevent the 
 young fellows' sending carriages out for her, 
 nothing to prevent her driving in to shop on 
 the Escolta, nothing to prevent their joining 
 her there and as Manila afforded no such re- 
 sort as Delmonico's or The Wellington — no 
 cool retreat where ices and chocolate could be 
 served, there might have been nothing to pre- 
 vent madame's accepting their invitation to 
 drive to barracks and partake of champagne 
 and confectionerv at the officers' club. There 
 
/O JACK ROVAL. 
 
 would have been nothing but for Patty. Patty 
 put her little foot down summarily on the 
 scheme. She would drive with her stepmother 
 "open and aboveboard" to and along- the 
 Escolta and he rewarded by a few brief words 
 on the Calle Nozaleda with her watrliful Jack, 
 but the pure heart of the American girl needed 
 no prompting where to draw the line. Her 
 lovely blue eyes, soft, pleading and wistful at 
 most times, flashed with unwonted fire as they 
 gazed straight into the black orbs of the ma- 
 tron. "You know you cannot go there with- 
 out me," said she, "and with me you shall not." 
 And this was in part the situation when old 
 Pet found it imperatively necessary to go over 
 to Hong Kong the third week in January. 
 Now he was in a quandary. To be on the safe 
 side he much desired to take madame and 
 Patty with him, but that would cost a heap of 
 money, and Pet was close as a clam. He went 
 to the agents of the Esmeralda and "boned" 
 them for a "complimentary" for the ladies, but 
 the agents were obtuse and couldn't see it. He 
 tackled that jovial mariner, Taylor, her com- 
 mander, but Taylor had long since "sized up" 
 Pet. and his former "Any time the ladies want 
 
JACK ROYAL. Jl 
 
 to run over to Hong Kong let me know" had 
 meant any time they wanted to go w^ithout 
 Pet. Pet would have been glad to invoke the 
 guardianship of certain charming English resi- 
 dents of Santa Ana. but the men had .given 
 him the cold shoulder almost from the start, 
 anil women, though their hearts went out to 
 Patty and would have found welcome for her. 
 had., with unerring instinct, taken madame's 
 measure and never seemed to see her. As for 
 calling, none of their little number ever con- 
 templated such a thing for a minute. 
 
 But there were impressionable gallants in 
 and about Santa Ana as well as across the lines 
 in and about Manila, and madame's rolling 
 orbs had speedily lured certain field and staff 
 officers of the Filipino army — young gentle- 
 men of fair fortune and European education, 
 several of whom had served in the army of 
 Spain and two, at least, who had been, taught 
 tlie rudiments of the art of war in Paris and 
 Madrid. Of these was Sandoval, swarthy, 
 Imt suave, aide-de-camp to General Ricarte, 
 whose headquarters were in the big stone build- 
 ing backing on the river directly across the 
 Plaza from the '>. I'n.lrav^ r^f the retreat old 
 
7- JACK KOVAL. 
 
 Pettibone had cliosen fur his birtlHnofs. Need- 
 ing no other "hid" than that which he read in 
 madame's bold, black eyes, the little General, 
 accompanied by two of his staff, with Sand- 
 oval as interpreter, called in person to pay his 
 respects and before the week was ont all were 
 frequent visitors when Pet wasn't in. To 
 madame, who spoke a little Spanish and was 
 desirous of learning more, the General and his 
 senior staff officer paid assiduous court. But 
 Sandoval spoke English, like a grandee, to be 
 sure, and all the more stately and sonorous did 
 he make it, and Sandoval was fascinated from 
 the start by those liquid blue eyes, by the fair 
 face and pearly teeth of pretty Patty Petti- 
 bone. It was a clear case of physical charm, 
 for Patty, loving and loyal, had no thought 
 for any man on earth but her bonny boy in the 
 uniform of the First Washington, and never a 
 word would she vouchsafe to Sandoval if she 
 could possibly help it. thereby only spurring 
 him to more assiduous and demonstrative de- 
 votion and. presently, to investigation as to this 
 utter indifference to fascinations he had never 
 hitherto exerted in vain. Among the damsels 
 of Spain, the iMestizas of Manila, the daugh- 
 
JACK KOVAL. 7^^ 
 
 ters of the "liigli class" and educated natives, 
 Sandt)val had hornc for three years a record 
 as a lady killer. He raged in his semi-savage 
 little heart to find all his charms wasted, his 
 advances si)urned, his Howery compliments 
 laughed at. There could be only one explana- 
 tion, said he — another — a previous attachment. 
 Then who was the man ? 
 
 It wasn't hard to find out. Half a mile 
 west from Ricarte's headquarters meandered 
 the Tripa de Gallina — a pulsating estuary of 
 the Pasig that rose and fell with the tide, its 
 median line the intangible barrier betwixt the 
 narrow limits accorded the Yankee intruders 
 and the broad lands of the Insurgents. There, 
 bearing the main highway from the interior 
 into Manila, stood the massive stone bridge 
 known as the Puente de Concordia. On the 
 Santa Ana side, close to the stream, stood the 
 guard-house filled with swarthy little soldiers 
 in broad-brimmed straw hats and pale l)lue 
 uniforms, two sentries ever pacing at the 
 bridge, the arms of the guard stacked at the 
 roadside. Beyond the bridge, a yard perhaps 
 from the abutment, stnnle a stalwart ^'ankoc. 
 Springfield on shoulder, and two hundred 
 
74 JACK ROYAL, 
 
 paces beyond him tliere towered Block House 
 II, crammed with bliie-shirted boys from the 
 Pacific slope of the far-away States, for there 
 was stationed the advance guard of the First 
 Brigade, First Division of the Eighth Army 
 Corps, a brigade made up entirely, barring the 
 commander and his staff, of gallant volunteers 
 from California, Idaho and Washington. 
 Against that block house, in redoubts along 
 the river bank Ricarte had trained his Krupp 
 guns. Against the block house and the blue 
 jjicket posts along that crooked stream the In- 
 surgents had thrown up earthworks here, there 
 and everywhere along the front. Over that 
 bridge and into the Insurgent lines no more 
 was Yankee foot permitted. Levelled bayo- 
 nets and harsh ''No quicrc Americanos" turned 
 back every would-be explorer. Across that 
 bridge, on the contrary, anywhere, everywhere 
 they cared to go within the Yankee lines, unlet, 
 unhindered, even honored by saluting sentries 
 and welcomed by officers and men, wandered 
 at their own sweet will the soldiers of Aguin- 
 aldo. Such were the orders issued by the de- 
 partment commander; such were his instruc- 
 tions from home. It made manv a Yankee 
 
JACK ROYAL. 75 
 
 soldier shake his head, Init it couhhi't shake 
 his sense of subordination. "If that's what 
 Uncle Sam wants." said "Thinking- Bayonets", 
 
 "it goes, but me if I can see the sense of 
 
 it!" 
 
 And so it took Sandoval next to no time to 
 hear and tlien to go and see for himself that 
 there was a tall, handsome, dark-eyed, dark- 
 haired, dashing looking first lieutenant quar- 
 tered right there at the Archiepiscopal palace 
 across the Paco bridge who was always on 
 lookout for a certain carriage when it came 
 spinning in from Santa Ana, as well as on the 
 back trip, and who seemed to rejoice in being 
 officer of the guard at Block House ii. It 
 was the nearest post to Santa Ana and his 
 inamorata. And Sandoval went so far as to 
 suggest to madame that he would be glad to 
 drive with her occasionally, and to the aston- 
 ishment of Lieutenant Jack Royal, when next 
 the carriage came bounding acr<^ss Concordia 
 Bridge one sunshiny afternoon late in January, 
 and his field glasses had told him "she", as 
 usual, was on the back seat, the sentries at both 
 ends of the bridge. Tagal and Yankee, pre- 
 sented arms, and then that "queer thing hap- 
 
76 JACK ROYAL. 
 
 pened" that the General's aide-de-camp started 
 to tell about in the hearing of old Pet him- 
 self. Royal had gone leaping down the 
 wooden stairs within and into the brilliant sun- 
 shine without, and over to the roadside just in 
 time to meet the carriage as its spirited little 
 ponies were pulled up at the post Number 3, 
 and there on the front seat, facing the ladies, 
 beamed a dapper little Tagal officer in uniform 
 of immaculate white, the gold stars on his 
 shoulders fresh from the dainty hands of the 
 Filipino maids at the Convent of San Pablo, 
 the broad-brimmed straw hat, finer in texture 
 than the famous fabric of Panama, circled by 
 its snowy, silken ribbon with the insignia of his 
 regiment embroidered in gold, a silken ker- 
 chief in one white gloved hand, the other 
 raised instantly in precise salute as madame 
 sententiously spoke the words of introduction, 
 emphasizing, as was her w^ont, the difference 
 in rank. 
 
 "Captain Sandoval, permit me to introduce 
 Lieutenant Royal," and Jack, sighting warning 
 in his sweetheart's blue eyes, tiushed, bowed 
 after the American fashion and half extended 
 his long, shapely hand. 
 
JACK ROYAL. "J"] 
 
 "It ees an honor I have seek for so long." 
 exclaimed Sandoval, hand and kerchief on his 
 heart, (and showing two rows of unimpeach- 
 able teeth). "We — your brothers in arms — 
 your allies, desire much the acquaintance-of so 
 distinguished officers." 
 
 "Yes." answered Jack, grimly, "those bayo- 
 nets across the bridge yonder look like it." 
 
 "Ah." and the square little shoulders 
 shrugged, "a mere temporary order, a matter 
 our president will rectify within the week so 
 soon as he hears from my General. It is not, 
 belief me. of our doing — " 
 
 And right here the "queer thing" happened. 
 Galloping across the arched bridge full speed 
 came another native officer, lashing his excited 
 pony to frantic effort. Within fifty yards of the 
 block house he recognized the carriage and in- 
 stantly, settling back in his saddle, began to 
 pull with all his little might, bringing up sput- 
 tering and splashing in the mud his pony, all 
 a(|uiver. and handing quickly to Sandoval a 
 sealed and folded paper, — then, wheeling 
 about antl. without waiting for reply, setting 
 spur to his mount and dashing back toward 
 Santa Ana. Roval could have sworn the young 
 
78 JACK ROYAL. 
 
 Staff ofticcr went a shade yellower. The 
 healthy brown of his skin gave place to a 
 muddy tint. 
 
 "It is from my General. You will pardon." 
 he murmured, uplifting his eyes in appeal to 
 the ladies, as he broke the seal and tore open 
 the page. Patty's eyes signalled "come over 
 here," and Royal quickly stepped back of the 
 carriage to her side. Then she bent as though 
 to whisper, and at that instant in uncontroll- 
 able excitement, if not agitation, young Sand- 
 oval sprang iu>m the carriage. 
 
 "I am — recalled," he said, bowing low to 
 both ladies. "I — " 
 
 But something fell with a heavy plunk in 
 the roadway. The glistening white sling of 
 his sword belt had caught the handle of the 
 carriage door. The sword, in accordance 
 with existing conditions had been left at Santa 
 Ana, for it was only by unarmed Filipinos that 
 the lines could be passed. The sudden strain 
 had burst the belt which buckled underneath 
 the white sack coat, and with the belt fell a 
 holster and gleaming revolver, its chambers 
 crammed with cartridges, also a rectangular 
 poucli of Russia leather. With sudden swoop 
 
J At. K K( 11 AL. 79 
 
 the Filipino possessed himself of the latter. 
 With quick, supple bend, Royal pounced on 
 the other. A cry. half suppressed, came from 
 Patty's lips. Madame herself looked startled. 
 "Pray do not wait. Seiiora." said Sandoval, 
 whose self possession did not seem to leave 
 him. "Until the evening." he continued. 
 Then, kissing his hand, and bowing elabor- 
 ately, "I count the hours. Senorita, Mis labios 
 van cstar frios." he added, with killing glance 
 at Patty. ".^/ corrco, coclicro!" he shouted 
 to the weazened little driver in top hat and 
 boots. Away sped the team, and they stood 
 facing each other, the stalwart son of the 
 Pacific slope, reared in the "glorious climate of 
 California", trained mentally and physically in 
 a great university and soldiering now for the 
 honor of his flag, and the sinewy, yet diminu- 
 tive product of the tropics, bred in luxury and 
 indulgence, schooled in the arts and languages 
 of the Latin race and serving under the 
 standard of a leader almost fanatically loved. 
 in the full conviction that the Tagal was alone 
 fit to rule the Philippines. The smile left the 
 face of Sandoval as he looked squarely up into 
 •the stern eyes of the officer of the guard. 
 
8o JACK ROYAL. 
 
 Ladies were no longer present; besides, he 
 stood unmasked, self convicted of a violation 
 of the compact. To the Spaniard as to his apt 
 pupil, the Filipino, no disgrace attaches either 
 to a lie or breach of faith except that of 
 detection. 
 
 Royal was the first to speak. "You under- 
 stand English, Senor Capitan." said he coldly, 
 "and you well know you have no business to 
 wear this within our lines. What's more, you 
 know you couldn't have done it without detec- 
 tion had you not come in a carriage with ladies. 
 Take your pistol. I have no orders to seize 
 it. Our General did not contemplate the pos- 
 sibility of hidden weapons among officers and 
 gentlemen." 
 
 Sandoval's eyes flashed and his strong white 
 teeth set like a vise. Already he had heard 
 and seen enough to assure him that here was 
 a favored suitor, therefore a hated rival. Butt 
 foremost, the glistening weapon, only half con- 
 cealed in its dainty holster, was extended to 
 him. Close at hand paced the silent sentry on 
 No. 3. Over at the block house stood or 
 sprawled a dozen Washingtons, curiously 
 watching the scene. The cold, almost con- 
 
JACK ROYAL. 8 1 
 
 temptuous tune oi the tall American stung the 
 Tagal to the quick. Passionate, hot-blooded, 
 vengeful, indulged and petted of women, en- 
 vied and flattered by men, he had been bred to 
 domineer, never to know disdain. All the fire 
 of his race flared in instant rage. 
 
 ■'You dare insult me!" he hissed, with a 
 stamp of his beautifully booted foot. "Keep 
 that pistol, for you have none to match it, you 
 Americans. But I bring one again and I 
 challenge you to meet me — yonder — at the 
 Tripa — Ha ! — " 
 
 His furious harangue broke ofi short. Over 
 toward the distant gray walls of Santa Ana, 
 quick- and stirring, a Filipino bugle broke the 
 silence of the afternoon. Almost instantly 
 there came thrilling answer from the guard- 
 house across the stream, and the swarthy little 
 brown soldiers were seen springing to their 
 stacked arms. Clutching his leather pouch 
 and withriut another word. Sandoval turned 
 and ran like a deer for the bridge. "Here! 
 Take your popgun." shouted Royal, hurling 
 the bolstered pistol after him. It flew half a 
 dozen paces bevcnd tin- -«\\ift white runner be- 
 
82 JACK ROYAL. 
 
 fore it plowed the niiul, but he never stopped 
 nor stooped. 
 
 ''Form your guard there, sergeant !" ordered 
 Royal, drawing his sword and striding for- 
 ward t(nvard the block house. "There's no 
 telling what may be up." 
 
 Aloft in the upper story the telegraph in- 
 strument was madly clicking. Far over the 
 rice fields to the southwest little parties of na- 
 tive soldiers could be seen running for the bam- 
 boo patches and nipa "shacks" scattered along 
 the outer bank of the Tripa, every one an out- 
 post of Pio del Pilar. Over at Block House 
 12 and back of Battery Knoll, south of the 
 Paco suburb, the Americans could be seen 
 scrambling to the highest reachable point and 
 staring out toward Santa Ana in search of ex- 
 planation of the excitement. But Royal 
 promptly got his guard into ranks, sent a cor- 
 poral, with half a dozen men in palpable sup- 
 port of his sentries on the road, and then 
 awaited developments. 
 
 They quickly came. A soldier sprang from 
 the dark interior of the block house with a 
 paper fluttering in his hand. Royal seized the 
 despatch and read : 
 
JACK ROVAL. 83 
 
 "Bugles all over town and suburbs sound- 
 ing 'To Arms'. All commands forming at 
 their barracks. Alarm started along the 
 Escolta in Binondo. Cause not ascertained. 
 (Signed) ''Davis, 
 
 Operator." 
 
 "Started along the Escolta in Binondo!" 
 said Royal to himself, "and yet those beggars 
 out yonder knew it before we did, and we have 
 the wire. Keep the men in ranks for the pres- 
 ent," he ordered, then quickly returned to the 
 highway and gazed townward. 
 
 Hurrying toward him with their odd, 
 shuffling gait, in little parties of three or four, 
 some in their uniforms, some in native white, 
 came dozens of the little brown soldiers, the 
 rearmost running in their haste to join their 
 regiments out at Santa Ana. And then, be- 
 yond them, lashing his fiery team of pony stal- 
 lions, appeared the diminutive coclicro, em- 
 ployed and costumed by Messrs. Parke. Kitson 
 & Company, driving like mad as though to 
 escape from the wrath to come. He strove 
 not to see Royal's signal to stop, but the latter 
 
84 JACK KOVAL. 
 
 would not he denied. Madame was found on 
 the verge of hysterics, Patty, pale but silent. 
 
 "Oh, what arc we to do?" moaned the ma- 
 tron, wringing her hands. "It is dreadful that 
 this should happen and Mr. Pettibone away !" 
 
 "But nothing' of any consequence has hap- 
 pened, Mrs. Pettibone," said Royal, as he 
 stepped to Patty's side and possessed himself 
 of a little hand that hung over the edge of the 
 low victoria. "The troops form as a matter 
 of course, but I assure you there is no trouble 
 in store for you. Everything will be quiet 
 presently and you will have forgotten it by 
 the time Mr. Pettibone returns. To-morrow, 
 is it?" 
 
 "To-morrow probably; Monday at latest," 
 answered Patty, as the elder lady seemed al- 
 ready to have forgotten the existence of her 
 spouse. Then the girl's voice sank to a whis- 
 per, and her eyes filled. "O Jack, I wish — I 
 wish I could think there was no trouble for 
 him — for father. There's something I must 
 tell you, but I can't now,'' and she glanced 
 significantly at the moaning, frightened wo- 
 man by her side. 
 
 "To-morrow, then Til watch for vou at 
 
JACK ROVAL. 85 
 
 Paco." answered Royal, pressiiig^ her liand. 
 And then the carriage darted on : shut up the 
 incHne and over the l)ridge and was lost to 
 sight beyond the hurrying groups of Filipino 
 soldiery. Royal, gazing after it, roused from 
 his revery at the voice of the corporal of the 
 guard who stood with Sandoval's pistol in his 
 hand. "What shall I do with this, sir?" was 
 the question. "Mechanically Royal took and 
 thrust it in the pocket of his field uniform just 
 as the clatter of hoofs announced the coming 
 of a mounted party: and turning, he hastened 
 to receive the brigade commander. 
 
 "Who were the ladies?" inquired that dig- 
 nitary, leisurely dismounting. "Vou need not 
 kee]) your men in ranks. Mr. R(^yal. It was 
 a mere flurry in town." 
 
 "Mr. Pettibonc's wife — and daughter, sir. 
 Dismiss the guard, sergeant!" answered Royal. 
 "Ricarte's men over yonder were greatly ex- 
 cited. General, and what's queer is that they 
 got wind of the trouble before we did." 
 
 "There was no trouble worth mentioning." 
 was the answer. "But when there is they can 
 learn it (|uick enough. San Juan del Monte 
 and San Felijic Xeri across the I\'isig yonder 
 
86 JACK ROYAL. 
 
 signal direct to Santa Ana church tower in 
 front of yon. Well, who's Pettibone?" 
 
 So the brigadier did not know Pettibone on 
 Saturday, January 28th, yet here he was on 
 Monday evening, January 30th, entertaining 
 him at dinner, and Bob Bruce had palpably re- 
 fused to sit at meat with the party because 
 Pettibone was present. It was an evening of 
 suppressed excitement anyhow. Just at six 
 the division commander had come riding in 
 with two of his staff, and in brief conference 
 with his senior brigadier announced that a 
 cable from Washington warned General Otis 
 to look out for mischief, the Insurgents were 
 planning to attack before the reinforcements 
 shipped in late December and early January 
 could possibly arrive. Orders were issued for 
 all troops to breakfast at 4:45 a.m. and form 
 under arms at 5:15. The force at the front was 
 to be strengthened forthwith, and all the nec- 
 essary instructions had been reduced to writing 
 and the type-written copies signed and had just 
 been sent out when Mr. Pettibone' s card was 
 handed in with a request for an interview with 
 the brigadier. They were still in conversation, 
 for Pettibone had much to say, when dinner 
 
JACK Kn\AL. 87 
 
 ^vas announced and Pet was induced to stay. 
 That night, under the stars as they rode the 
 hnes. a favorite staff officer turned on his chief 
 with the abrupt question "General, do you 
 know anything about ^[r. Pettibone?" 
 
 "Nothing but what he told me. Why?" 
 
 "P>ecause — he is persona iion grata at De- 
 p:iriment Headquarters, and the provost mar- 
 shal disapproves of hini. I tried to catch your 
 eye. sir. when you invited him to dinner." 
 
 "He brought me a letter of introduction 
 from Colonel Burke at Ilo Ilo and all he wanted 
 was a pass through our lines at Concordia 
 Bridge in case he was detained in town late at 
 night. I sent him to Division Headquarters. 
 He had much to tell — seems to have traveled 
 and seen a good deal." 
 
 "I'm glad you didn't give him the pass, sir. 
 That man's capable of selling information to 
 the enemy." 
 
 "Is he?" laughed the general. "Well, I 
 dtnibt if he'd find a market. They have far 
 more information than he, and can get all they 
 need without paying for it." 
 
 Three days passed without further tidings of 
 Pettibone at l)rigade headcjuarters and, what 
 
88 JACK ROYAL. 
 
 was worse, of i)retty Patty along the Xozalecla, 
 and Jack Royal was in a fidget — three days 
 and nights in which the strain of the sitnation 
 at the front became intense. The Pettibone 
 carriage had driven in each morning and back 
 late each afternoon, unhindered by either 
 guard, its sole and sallow occupant scowling 
 malignantly at sight of Royal who was always 
 on watch. But the carriage sent out. presum- 
 ably, by madame's admirers infra miiros. to the 
 dismay of those young gallants and the mis- 
 chievous delight of their comrades, never re- 
 turned. There was evidently a restraining 
 hand in Santa Ana. 
 
 It was Friday morning when Royal marched 
 on again as officer of the guard at Block House 
 II, having "swapped" tours with a comrade 
 in order to get there ahead of his time. .\nd the 
 first thing he did after distributing his sentries 
 was to swing out from the Santa Ana front, 
 nailing its upper edge to the sill of the rifle 
 slit, a big tal)le cloth that he had unscrupu- 
 lously borrowed from the mess kit, and Johnny 
 Filipino across the stream looked, marveled, 
 gesticulated anrl chattered, then sent hack to 
 headquarters for staff officers who came scam- 
 
JACK ROVAL. 89 
 
 periiig mit on their mettlesouK' ponies to see 
 what manner of sig^nal this was the Yankees 
 were setting-, and with them came Sandoval, 
 who £^az:ed, askeil just one (|uestion of the 
 Tag-al otliccr at tlie bridge, got the reply "El 
 Tcniciitc Royal", and galloped back to Santa 
 Ana as hard as he could go. Whatever his 
 object it in no wise interfered with Royal's 
 plan, for barely three hours later there came 
 spinning across the bridge a carriage, recog- 
 nized at once as that of Mr. Maclean, a prom- 
 inent English resident of Santa Ana and lead- 
 ing business man of Manila, and pretty, smil- 
 ing, dainty little Mrs. Maclean was seated 
 therein, two of her children with her. To 
 Jack's suqirise and joy a corporal came hurry- 
 ing to him with a note. Royal raised his hat 
 and bowed his thanks, then tore open the ])rc- 
 cious missive. 
 
 "Jack, Jack," it said, "thank God for sight 
 of your signal. I have been almost mad with 
 anxiety. Father and Mrs. Pettibone. too, 
 seem to have fallen utterly into the hands of 
 those Insurgent officers. Sonicthiiii^ is being 
 plotted. I don't know wliat. Pio del Pilar 
 with other Cienerals .spent twenty-four hours 
 
90 JACK ROYAL. 
 
 here. Father was with them at night and has 
 packed up his papers and bidden us to be ready 
 to move at a moment's notice. He is fearfully 
 nervous about something and is in some grave 
 complication, though I hardly know what. 
 
 But, this you must know^ Captain Sand- 
 oval is here morn, noon and night. He seized 
 the carriage that used to come out for mother 
 and he insists hour after hour on our leaving 
 here and moving to his home, which is near 
 General Montenegro's at Taytay beyond Pasig. 
 Father would have gone before this, but for a 
 large sum of money due him that he is striv- 
 ing to collect in the city. It is all that pre- 
 vents our leaving, and Jack. I dread it more 
 than words can tell. I dread this little demon 
 Sandoval, and oh, Jack, you must be on your 
 guard agin St him. He is capable of anything 
 and he terrifies me by his threats. Promise 
 me not to go near that bridge to-night. Jack 
 — promise me, and if you can do anything to 
 help my poor old father do, Jack. He was 
 good and loving to me always until this other 
 marriage. There is only one way to get this 
 to you. I am going to the English lady you 
 have seen driving by so often, to implore her 
 
JACK ROYAL. 9 1 
 
 help. The Filipinos dare not stop or search 
 
 her carriage. 
 
 Fondly, anxiously. 
 
 "Patty." 
 
 "The lady said she'd stop for an answer on 
 the way back, sir," said the corporal. But be- 
 fore that answer could be written came the 
 General to potter all about the premises for a 
 whole hour, "spiering" over the rice fields with 
 his glasses, studying the movements of the In- 
 surgents about their earthworks and redoubts, 
 asking countless questions and finally taking 
 Jack another hour's tramp up and down the 
 banks of the Tripa. It was two o'clock when 
 he remounted and rode away, and there was 
 the Maclean carriage waiting. Jack could 
 only pencil a few hurried lines, thank the 
 gentle, sympathetic little woman with all his 
 heart and falter a bungling plea that she should 
 befriend his endangered sweetheart, and then 
 out came a messenger on the jump with this 
 despatch : 
 
 ''Commanding Officer Block House 1 1 : 
 
 Post sentries to guard every possible cross- 
 ing of streams on your front and prevent the 
 
92 JACK ROVAL. 
 
 return to Santa Ana of Jonas Pettibone, Amer- 
 ican citizen. Arrest him wherever found 
 within our Hues. Copy sent brigade com- 
 mander. Acknowledge receipt. 
 
 (Signed) "Cabell A. A. G."' 
 
 Tliat was a busy afternoon along the Tripa, 
 but nightfall came without a sign of the desired 
 Jonas. Two Generals and at least twenty offi- 
 cers of various grades were out inquiring for 
 him at different times. Everybody knew he 
 had driven into town that morning, but no- 
 body seemed to know what had since become of 
 him. His carriage and coachman had easily 
 been found by the stalwart amateur police from 
 the Thirteenth ^Minnesota, but Jonas had some- 
 how got wind of the sudden mo\-e to nab him 
 and had vanished. Filipino. Chinese and 
 Spanish merchants with whom he was known 
 to have had dealings vowed they knew nothing 
 of his whereabouts, but the chief of police, act- 
 ing under information from the martial col- 
 lector of customs, "ran in" six or eight im- 
 porters and by nightfall everybody seemed to 
 know it was another case of opium smuggling, 
 all planned and carried out by the astute Jonas. 
 
JACK KOVAL. 93 
 
 Moreover, there was bribery and o •rruption of 
 minor officials proved against bim. and in- 
 timate relations with Insurgent officials more 
 than suspected. "It was these latter," said the 
 provost martial's people, "who now had him 
 in hiding, the deuce knows where." 
 
 For three nights the American sentries on 
 the road at the west end of Concordia Bridge 
 had been subjected to all manner of annoyance 
 and insult, but this Friday night seemed to 
 "cap the climax." Taps had hardly sounded 
 back in Paco when, officers and soldiers both, 
 the little brown men came swarming over 
 toward the American side, whetting their keen 
 boles on the stone parapet and daring and 
 taunting the sentries to fight. Loyal to their 
 orders, the big Washingtons laughed at their 
 jninv tormentors, which only made them the 
 madtler. and toward eleven o'clock they be- 
 came so demonstrative that Private Stone sent 
 forth a stentorian shuut for the corporal, and 
 with that long-legged non-com came running 
 the tall officer of the guard, followed panting 
 by a gray-haired, grizzled little Idaho major, 
 the field officer of the day. Instantly there 
 was rush and scurry back across the bridge on 
 
94 JACK ROYAL. 
 
 part of the Filipinos, and in the dim Hght of 
 the cloudy moon their guard could be seen 
 springing into ranks and taking arms while 
 two or three officers leaped into saddle. Be- 
 fore Stone could report the cause of his signal, 
 faint, yet clear and distinct, away off to the 
 left toward the point of Pandacan Island a 
 rifle shot rang out on the night, close followed 
 by another, and at the sound, whipping and 
 spurring their little steeds, away scurried the 
 Filipino officers in tlie direction of the shot 
 and sped out of sight behind the stone walls 
 of the Norwegian consul's residence across the 
 stream. Away streaked dim, ghostly, pale- 
 blue shadows skimming across the flats toward 
 the river and, fired by the sight, straddling his 
 pony, the little Idaho major spurred for the 
 bridge at Block House lo. 
 
 It was midnight before the eager watchers 
 at the center learned the cause of this alarm. 
 A boat had crossed tlie Pasig just in front of 
 Pandacan Point and landed two men beyond 
 the Concordia. Jeering laugh and vulgar 
 taunt were the reply to the picket's challenge. 
 A pistol flashed and cracked, answered in- 
 stantly by the rifle of the lone Californian who 
 
JACK ROYAL. 95 
 
 had just time to reload and tire once more be- 
 fore the figures shot out of sight behind the 
 bamboo, and a shrill, mocking voice shouted 
 the (|uery 
 
 ■■\\'a-at you Vankoes gif for Pettibone 
 now?" 
 
 There was no missive from Patty to glad- 
 den Jack Royal's heart before he turned over 
 the outpost to his successor Saturday morning. 
 Instead, a grave-faced gentleman stepped from 
 his carriage about eight o'clock. *'My name 
 is Maclean." said he. briefly, '"and my wife 
 bade me stop to say to you that she had tried 
 to see Miss Pettibone this morning, but Mr. 
 and Mrs. Pettibone declared she was too ill to 
 receive anybody, yet my wife saw her at an 
 upi)er window signalling to her and looking 
 well as ever. She will try again later." 
 
 But trials were vain. No word came from 
 Santa Ana through the livelong day; no sign 
 till late at night, and then the expected storm 
 broke in fury along the northward front. 
 Taunt, insult and abuse having failed to pro- 
 voke the Yankee to heg'm the fight, the Tagals 
 in desperation stealthily posted their firing 
 lines to sweep the field and sent armed ])arties 
 
<)6 JACK KOVAL. 
 
 to compel the shot of the American sentry in 
 front of Samta Mesa. 
 
 When Sunday morning dawned on Block 
 House 1 1 the battle was in full blast and there 
 was wild excitement beyond the lines at Santa 
 Ana. Confident that the patient sufferance 
 and self restraint of the Americans meant that 
 they stood in terror of the Tagal, the little 
 brown men had rushed impetuously to the at- 
 tack toward three o'clock, but the sun rose up- 
 on a baffled force and a bk^ody field. The 
 Americans had not yielded an inch. What 
 was worse, the gathering light had made it pos- 
 sible for them to use their field guns, and now 
 Dyer and Scott, with their beautiful, long 
 breech loaders at Battery Knoll, and Haw- 
 thorne with his Hotchkiss "barkers," close to 
 Block House ii, were sending their shells 
 shrieking at the Insurgent works, their shrap- 
 nel bursting into deadly storm of lead that 
 swept the parapets and silenced the bellowing 
 Krupps. Through the upper stories of the 
 houses in Santa Ana, built of frail bamboo, 
 shell and lattice, the bullets came whizzing 
 every moment, and the inhabitants, English, 
 natives, and that one American household, had 
 
JACK ROYAL. 97 
 
 taken refuge on the groun«l floors where, be- 
 liind solid stone walls, they were safe. 
 
 Safe from flying lead, that is, but not from 
 flying foe. From the moment of his arrival 
 late that Friday night Jonas Pettibone had been 
 in terror. Young Sandoval, he who had so 
 eagerly urged that the family should take 
 refuge at his home at Taytay, where they could 
 be under guard of his retainers and far from 
 the pi^ssibility of English interference, now 
 could not leave his post of duty to escort them, 
 and in his jealous passion, would not let them 
 go without him. Every hour or so all Satur- 
 ilay he had managed to dart in to ask for 
 Pattv, pleading to see her. l)ut the girl had shut 
 herself in her room and would not come down. 
 Temporizing with Pettibone. he promised to 
 convey him Sunday beyond all possibility of 
 capture, but well he knew that before midnight. 
 in all likelihood, the attack would begin. Not 
 for an instant did he doubt that, when once 
 the assault was ordered, he and his heroic com- 
 jiatriuts, whirling the coward Yankee before 
 them into the sea. would go careering into 
 Manila, masters of the great city. Then he 
 c<»uld return at will to Santa .\na and dictate 
 
98 JACK ROVAL. 
 
 terms to Pettibone — terms that included Patty 
 in the spoils of war. 
 
 But Sunday morning had come with the 
 ''coward foe" unshaken, and now the dis- 
 heartened battalions of Ricarte were drifting 
 back from the banks of the Trii)a to the shelter 
 of the intrenchments and the stone-walled en- 
 closures of Santa Ana. Now the shrapnel be- 
 gan to burst in mid air in front of his redoubts 
 and spatter death throughout his lines. Xow 
 the huts and the houses, the great churchyard 
 and the roomy convent began to fill up with 
 dusky wounded, and stragglers and skulkers 
 came huddling back into the Plaza. In gal- 
 lant effort, Sandoval and his comrade officers 
 rode, shouting and sword-waving among them, 
 and drove all uninjured soldiers into ranks 
 again. And at longer range now the fight was 
 renewed, and Sandoval took heart. The 
 Americans had not given way. to be sure. It 
 w^as a drawn battle iov the time being — but, 
 just so soon as reinforced by Pio del Pilar, 
 Ricarte could order another assault and with 
 overwhelming' numbers sweep the opposite 
 bank. Meantime the American dare not 
 strike. \^iinglorious1y. therefore, he rode 
 
JACK ROYAL. 99 
 
 back to the Pettibone gate and. tliished with 
 battle and the consciousness of personal valor, 
 appeared before them. Pet and his hysterical 
 spouse crouching to the tioor in abject terror. 
 Patty almost scornfully ministering to them. 
 The crash of Filipino musketry close at hand 
 made Pet rave with apprehension. They must 
 be falling back ! The Americans must be com- 
 ing! "For God's sake — for pity's sake — order 
 the carriage and send me up to Pasig!" he 
 pleaded. In vain Sandoval strove to reassure 
 him. The Americans would be slaughtered, 
 said he, if they dared venture to cross the 
 Tripa. "They dream not of the valor of our 
 soldiers." he declared, and ordered coffee 
 served and breakfast cooked without delay. 
 But even as he spoke the spat of whistling bul- 
 let, tearing through the fragile lattice of the 
 floor above, made Jonas cower lower, and the 
 peal of the bugle called the young staff ofticer 
 to the Plaza without. Carriage, (juilez and 
 carromata in front of headquarters were being 
 loaded up with wounded officers and official 
 records. The reserves were forming in grim 
 silence. The cheers of the earlier morning had 
 <lied awav. "Those accursed ^'ankoes!" 
 
lOO JACK ROYAL. 
 
 growled a trembling, grizzle-pated official," his 
 brown face streaked with sweat. "They have 
 deceived us. They have thousands to our 
 one!" Sandoval knew well what that meant. 
 Not that the enemy had gained a man, but that 
 the Insurgent had lost his nerve. 
 
 Turning to a shaking little servant, he bade 
 him seek the carriage and have it in readiness 
 at the "casa Pettibone," then hastened once 
 more to the front. Lying dow^n behind the 
 foot high ridges in the rice fields, crouching be- 
 hind the earth parapets of their redoubts, aim- 
 ing over the tough stone walls, Ricarte's lines 
 were still blazing at the opposite bank of the 
 Tripa, sweeping the Concordia Bridge and 
 sending a storm of Mauser and Remington bul- 
 lets into the smoke bank that, hanging low 
 along the stream, ever and anon jetted forth a 
 fiery sheet, as in steady, well-aimed volley some 
 Yankee platoon responded. Peering from an 
 upper window of the convent he could look out 
 over the now deserted field toward the Paco 
 suburbs, here, there and everywhere dotted by 
 patchs of pallid blue or dirty white, the aban- 
 doned dead of the Insurgent brigade. It was 
 eight o'clock and Ricarte's attack had failed. 
 
JACK ROYAL. lOI 
 
 The signals from across the Pasig at San 
 FeHpe Neri and further away San Juan del 
 Monte told of triumph for the Filipino cause 
 and bade the brothers of Pilar's division do 
 their share and the day was won. But Sand- 
 oval could see with his strong glasses that San 
 Miguel, commanding on the zone in front of 
 Santa IMesa, had made no headway against the 
 stalwart lads from Colorado and Nebraska. "A 
 Spanish victory!" he swore in bitter wrath, 
 and then went bounding down the stairs. 
 Once more he sought the presence of the girl 
 whose l>eauty had enthralled, whose disdain 
 liad maddened him. Suppose the Yankee 
 should advance or turn his guns on Santa 
 Ana! then what hope had he of holding her? 
 There stood the victoria at the gate, the little 
 stallions dancing from excitement, the pigmy 
 cochero livid and shaking from fear. Burst- 
 ing without ceremony into the presence of the 
 family party, he found it reinforced by Jonas, 
 Jr.. scared but spunky. Even that inconspicu- 
 ous citizen had some pride left, and the stiff 
 stand of his fellow ct»untrymen had rejoiced his 
 feeble heart. Coffee and food stood unnoticed 
 on the table. Old Pet was crouching in a cor- 
 
I02 JACK KOVAL. 
 
 ner. Mrs. Pet moaning on a bamboo couch, 
 Patty, i)ale but calm, was hunting through 
 some of her father's papers. "You must find 
 it!" he quavered. "It would ruin me if — " 
 
 He broke ofif with a shriek. Three Filipino 
 soldiers came bounding in at the rear door, 
 arms still in their hands. Furiously Sandoval 
 whipped out his glittering sv^ord and de- 
 manded the meaning of this intrusion. 
 
 "The Americans! The Americans!" was 
 their affrighted cry. 
 
 Springing to the stairway he reached the 
 upper story and gazed out over the native nipa 
 huts and the level rice fields beyond them 
 toward the Tripa, and there he saw a sight 
 which sent the blood rushing back to his heart. 
 In long blue lines, at "fighting intervals" the 
 right of the Yankee brigade was already across 
 the Tripa and sweeping- steadily eastward 
 toward the San Pedro road, his one means of 
 escape to Pasig. The right center was just 
 emerging from the stream, four splendid, stal- 
 wart companies of those big W'^ashingtons. 
 They halted one instant at the brink. The line 
 blazed with flame, a sheet of hissing lead swept 
 the field and tore through the thinning ranks 
 
JACK ROVAL. 105 
 
 to the south of Santa Ana. Then (»n tliey 
 came and, as in panic, Sandoval leaped down 
 the stairs. The crash of another volley straight 
 from Block House 1 1 told that the second hat- 
 talion of the W'ashingtons was coming, too, 
 and the splinters of lattice and shell work cov- 
 ered him as he leaped into the presence of the 
 family below. 
 
 "To the carriage!" he shouted. "Vou have 
 not an instant ! You will be captured !" And 
 with a howl of anguish old Pet grabbed at his 
 papers and ruslied for the gate. "Follow, 
 Senora, follow!" he said. "Assist the Sen- 
 ora," he ordered the frightened, but docile 
 soldiers — then sprang to Patty's side. "Come, 
 SefTorita, come!" he cried. But she darted 
 behind the table away from his appealing 
 hands. Other Insurgent soldiers came hurry- 
 ing in through the open court, some tearing off 
 their uniforms and appearing in the white garb 
 of the peaceful natives, seeking where to hide 
 their arms. The crash of another volley not 
 six hundred yards away and a glorious, full- 
 thn^ated cheer burst on the morning air, and 
 drove the Tagal captain to frenzy. With one 
 cat-like spring he cleared the narrow table, 
 
I04 JACK ROYAL. 
 
 and. despite her furious blows, struggles and 
 shrieks, seized the frantic girl in his :rrms and 
 shouted to the soldiers for aid. Death was 
 the only punishment they knew for disobedi- 
 ence, and at his demand they, too, pounced up- 
 on her, and. borne now by four little brown 
 devils, poor Patty was rushed into the open 
 air, through the gateway and out on the open 
 Plaza. A fierce imprecation fell from the lips 
 of Sandoval. The carriage was gone! Ter- 
 rified by the nearing clamor and uproar, the 
 little team had darted away, and with Tagal 
 soldiers dragging at their bits, were plunging 
 and rearing full three hundred yards up the 
 square. There was no help for it, thither must 
 she be carried, and. half fainting, the fren- 
 zied girl was hurried along. Yet she did not 
 lose hope or pluck. Nearer and nearer the 
 glorious cheering came, borne on the breeze, 
 the ringing bugles sounding the charge, the 
 rifles rattling all along the line, and from the 
 south and west front of the village the scatter- 
 ing shots of the Filipinos were dwindling 
 awa)^. as the demoralized offenders took refuge 
 in flight. By dozens and scores the little 
 brown men were scurrying past them in mad 
 
JACK ROVAL. 105 
 
 race for the river road. Was there none to 
 help ? — none to save? All along the north siiie 
 of the Plaza ran a high stone wall, and at the 
 middle stood th.e ornamental iron gate, now 
 sternly closed, in front of the beautiful grounds 
 and homestead of the Macleans. Patty's im- 
 ploring eyes caught sight of two or three stal- 
 wart forms in civilian dress behind the bars, 
 and all her remaining strength went forth in 
 one agonized scream for help. Then came a 
 scene such as Santa Ana never knew before. 
 Forth from the gateway burst three Anglo 
 Saxons and bore down full tilt on Sandoval. 
 ••Don't let them take me!" gasped Patty, and 
 fainted. There were breathless questions, furi- 
 ous answers. Brittanic bluster and Tagal 
 threats, then biff! biff! — right and left banders 
 that sprawled two of Patty's bearers in the dirt. 
 Biff! Bang! and Sandoval's half drawn pistol 
 went spinning one way, the owner another. 
 "Quick! Back to the house!" ordered Mac- 
 lean, and thither the victors carried the girl 
 just as a sjnittering volley and thrilling chorus 
 of exultant cheers and shouts and stentorian 
 orders 'Torward! Forward! Roll 'em u]) ! 
 Swing round on the right !" told that the right 
 
I06 JACK ROYAL. 
 
 wing of the Washingtons had carried the 
 works and now were bursting in tlirough the 
 native huts- at the south, cutting off the retreat 
 of Ricarte's main body. Sandoval w-as trapped. 
 The carriage whirled away and darted round 
 a distant ccM'ner to the San Pedro road. In 
 mad panic the scattering rebels were fleeing 
 for the river beyond the great stone church. 
 Sandoval, staggering to his feet, was swept 
 away w-ith them just as the blue-shirted leaders 
 of the Washingtons came cheering and charg- 
 ing through the yards and pathways opposite 
 Maclean's and springing out into the open 
 Plaza in a dozen places at once. 
 
 For a few seconds the volleying broke forth 
 again, as they spied tlie fleeing Tagals. But 
 all along the opposite wall the belated ones 
 threw down their arms and pleaded piteously 
 for mercy. "Round 'em up. Gather 'em in, lads," 
 were the orders, and a tall young officer strode 
 forward to the group of natives huddled at 
 Maclean's gate. Far to the left down the 
 Pasig the fierce crash of volleys told where the 
 Idahos and the Washington's left were still 
 hotly engaged at the rel)el redoubts, for, 
 caught like rats in a trap, the little devils 
 
JACK ROYAL. IO7 
 
 fought savagely, but to no purpose. The rat- 
 tle of musketry soon gave way to prolonged 
 and enthusiastic cheers, and then a smiling 
 civilian appeared behind the bars. "Come in, 
 Mr. Royal." said he. '"We've got one of your 
 prisoners here." 
 
 A moment later. Jack Royal was ushered 
 upon a scene that so long as he shall live will 
 live with him. indelibly photographed upon the 
 filmy retina of that intangible yet almost in- 
 destructible organ — the mind's eye. In the 
 safe shelter of the massive stone walls of the 
 mansion, in an improvised sitting room on 
 the ground floor, three fair women were bend- 
 ing over a couch whereon lay, pallid, yet un- 
 s])eakably lovely, a fourth. Wondering, big- 
 eyed, flaxen-haired, curly-pated children hung 
 about them. With an inarticulate cry of 
 mingled joy, relief and love unutterable, the 
 tall soldier threw himself upon his knees, be- 
 side the couch — before them all. and folded the 
 slender fnmi in his strong arms, pillowed the 
 pretty, disheveled head on his breast — all other 
 captures for the time forgotten. 
 
 it was the sound, unwelcome — doubtless — 
 , of the General's voice that brought Jack Royal 
 
I08 JACK ROVAL. 
 
 back to earth. Maclean and liis friends were 
 extending welcome and congratulation. 
 
 "But I heard the men at the gate say there 
 was another prisoner in here," said the briga- 
 dier. "What did that mean?" 
 
 "It must have meant me, sir," quoth Jack, 
 mopping his happy face as he came forth into 
 the sunshine of Santa Ana. 
 
 Old Pet was not present at his daughter's 
 quiet wedding. From Filipino sources it was 
 learned that Sandoval had lived to fight an- 
 other day and died like a little man, facing the 
 assault of Wheaton's Flying Column on 
 Cainta, but Filipino reports are always unre- 
 liable. They would have it that Pet was 
 drowned in the Pasig by the overturning of 
 the banc a in which he sought to escape from 
 the pursuit of the Californians to San Pedro 
 Macati, and that madame had subsequently 
 joined her fortunes with those of a wealthy 
 Meztizo merchant, whereas officers returning 
 to the United States swore they saw Pet skulk- 
 ing about in Nagasaki, and everybody knows 
 madame, like ]Mrs. Micawber, would never de- 
 sert her spouse. 
 
'■ With Ills liand on liis heart lie made her a low bow." 
 
DOVE COTE DAYS. 
 
 There was excitement extraordinary one 
 still, starlit January night, soft, warm and sen- 
 suous, and all the placid suburb of Ermita, 
 south of the old walled city of Manila was 
 aroused and in commotion. Somewhere 
 toward two o'clock in the morning the sentries 
 on the edge of the Luneta and a patrol scout- 
 ing through the narrow, dusty streets had been 
 startled by a woman's scream, fearful in its 
 terror and intensity. Instantly there went up 
 a yell from three or four lusty throats. "Corp'r'l 
 the Guard Number Three!" "Copple the 
 Guard Xuiiiber Seven !" as the sentries, for- 
 bidden to leave their posts, gave hurried alarm. 
 But the patrol on the Calle Marina and the cor- 
 poral of the guard at the guard-house gates, 
 hampered by no such instructions, ran like wind 
 to the Calle San Jose whence came the sound, 
 
I 10 DOVK COTE DAYS. 
 
 and brought uj) standing- at the barred gate- 
 way of the quarters occupied by Lieutenant 
 Barriger, of the Artillery. 
 
 Already doors were opening and heads peer- 
 ing forth from the windows of the native 
 houses across the way, but here at Barriger's 
 all was silent. Yet the sentry at the corner 
 could have sworn the scream came from within 
 those walls. In two minutes the officer of the 
 guard from the Calle Real, and the officer of 
 the day, who was making the rounds down 
 toward the English Club, came hurrying to the 
 spot and demanded explanation. Why didn't 
 Lieutenant Barriger show himself? was the 
 latter's breathless question. 
 
 "He's on night duty over at the Calle Noza- 
 leda," responded young Hunter, lieutenant 
 commanding the guard. "That's what worries 
 me. The ladies are alone." 
 
 And just then the "jalousie" blinds of the 
 overhanging gallery slid softly aside, and a 
 woman's voice, sweet and controlled, despite 
 the tremor of some powerful excitement, was 
 heard to say : "There is no occasion for fur- 
 ther alarm. My sister has been badly fright- 
 ened. Is Mr. Hunter there? Ah, ves — Mr. 
 
DOVK COTt: DAYS. I 1 I 
 
 Hunter, if you can get word to Mr. Barriger 
 to come to us as soon as possible I will thank 
 you very much." 
 
 "Can we Ije of no service. Miss Ferris?" in- 
 quired the hard-breathing, pi^rtly officer of the 
 day. 
 
 "Thank you. Captain. I fear it's too late. 
 But you might send a few men round and 
 search the garden at the back. Somebody has 
 been in here." 
 
 And that is all that was told that night, or 
 for two days afterward, except that the Diario 
 de Manila and both Freedom and Ameridi 
 came out with advertisements in Spanish and 
 English somewhat as follows : 
 
 "Stolen — From the quarters of Lieutenant Barriger. 
 Ermita. on Thursday night, money, jewelry and a Rus- 
 sia leather case containing letters and papers. $200, 
 Me.x.. will be paid for the safe return of the missing 
 case with contents, and no questions asked." 
 
 "Xow what the dickens." was the question 
 all over the quarters of the Eighth Corps in 
 and about Manila — "what the clickens did Bar- 
 riger mean bv leaving" valuable pa[)ers any- 
 where outside of a burglar-proof safe in such 
 a sneak-thief centre a? this?" 
 
I I 2 DOVE COTE DAYS. 
 
 Only one man could answer that question — 
 or possibly two: the Lieutenant himself, or 
 else the comrade who of late had been his al- 
 most daily associate, Captain Adair, of the — th 
 Cavalry. 
 
 Sam Barriger had been married just six 
 weeks when the war broke out and he was or- 
 dered to Manila. It w^is a sore blow to pretty 
 Kitty Ferris, his bride. They had been en- 
 gaged half a year with the knowledge and con- 
 sent cf the elders, and twice as long without. 
 They had met when he was serving at the 
 Presidio the winter of '95-6 — he coming in for 
 frequent dinners and she coming out as a 
 debutante. 
 
 ]\Iost girls in her set in San Francisco were 
 tall and willowy; Kitty was willowy, but not 
 tall. She was a mite and a darling, the joy 
 of her parents and the idol of her elder sister, 
 Constance. The Ferrises were well-to-do, had 
 ambitious projects for both daughters and were 
 doomed to disappointment. Constance had 
 been betrothed to a man of mature years with 
 big returns from his profession, but something 
 happened to kill her respect for him and she 
 summarily snapped the tie and declared the 
 
DOVE CUTE DAYS. I I 3 
 
 engagement ended. It was something in some 
 way connected with a previous entanglement. 
 The barrister was an eloquent pleader and he 
 hr.d an earnest advocate in the person of Mrs. 
 Ferris, but they talked to stone. 
 
 The counselor took bis leave and a trip to 
 Europe. The mother took it out of her daugh- 
 ter by denouncing her daily for a week as 
 b.eartless. undutiful and absurd. Then pater- 
 familias called a halt. He and the lawyer 
 were friends and fellow-members of a well- 
 known club. He had fathered the suit, but 
 down in the depths of his better nature he knew 
 that his pure-minded, truthful, honest Con de- 
 served the love of a man as honest as herself — 
 if she cctuld find one. and when he saw her 
 white face as she came forth from one of those 
 tlaily upbraidings he envied the man who could 
 accomplish the apparently impossible feat of 
 kicking himself down stairs. He shrank from 
 her in shame, then went in to his wife, told 
 her Ci'Ustance was right and they were wrong 
 and that must be the end of it. The girl should 
 make her own choice next time, and mean- 
 while might the Lord forgive him for having 
 brought her such annoy ! 
 
114 DOVE COTE DAYS. 
 
 But thoiic^li suitors came, Constance seemed 
 to shrink fartlier and farther into her shell. 
 Were all men like her former betrothed? 
 seemed to be the question uppermost m her 
 mind. She continued in society, but her heart 
 wrapped itself about little Kitty, and when 
 that child "came out." great was the pride and 
 rejoicing. The mother took heart again. If 
 Con persisted in being an old maid, here at 
 least was a daughter who could be relied on to 
 make a brilliant match. 
 
 There were giants in those days in the way 
 of "catches" — young gentlemen of fortune and 
 family connection, and Mamma Ferris had set 
 her cap for one of these, a near neighbor, a 
 charming fellow, the only son of his mother, 
 and she thought him well on the way to per- 
 manent ensnarement when what did he do but 
 bring Sam Barriger, his friend from the 
 Presidio, to call. Then he gave theatre parties 
 to both girls, chaperoned sometimes by his 
 mother, sometimes by theirs, but attended al- 
 ways by Sam, and this made Mrs. Ferris rabid. 
 Their host was not handsome, whereas Sam 
 was — extremely so ; and to the mischievous de- 
 light of social circles and the wrath of the 
 
DOVK COTE DAYS. I 1 5 
 
 mother. Miss Kit ingenuously displayed a 
 growing joy in Barriger's presence and was 
 obviously and radiantly happy when dancing 
 with him. It was a famous light battery that 
 gave those dashing drills once a week for the 
 benefit of admiring and applauding himdreds 
 from town, and Sam Barriger's horsemanship 
 was as good as his dancing. His voice had a 
 clarion ring to it. and in the dash and dust and 
 smoke of mimic battle he rode and moved a 
 hero fit to grace the pages of Scott, and Kitty 
 Ferris was not the only girl in 'Frisco to be 
 moved by the sight. This precipitated matters 
 — but I should like to tell that story another 
 time, or rather read it as it could be told by 
 another fellow. There is only rotnn for the 
 main issue. 
 
 Now a word as to Barriger. He was a far 
 better fellow than would appear from what has 
 thus far been said of him. He was a gentle- 
 man and a soldier — a gentleman so poor in 
 pocket that he denied himself both tipple and 
 tobacco in order that he might never owe any 
 man a penny — might even occasionally repay 
 the lavish hospitality accorded him. He was 
 a soldier so fine, so enthusiastic that he loved 
 
Il6 DOVE COTE DAYS. 
 
 every detail of his duty and did it up to the 
 handle, to the end that among his fellows of 
 the allied arms of the service he had won the 
 sobriquet of Battery Sam. He had his faults, 
 or he wouldn't have been human. Some of 
 them will not appear in this story and there- 
 fore need not be mentioned. 
 
 One of them came near turning it topsy- 
 turvy, and that was almost indomitable pride. 
 He fell frankly, honestly in love with Kitty 
 Ferris before he had known her a week. Then 
 something her mother said gave him a setback 
 that made the little maiden sick at heart. He 
 went off on a month's leave, exploring the 
 Yosemite at the very moment she had reason 
 to expect him to remain at her side, and wo- 
 manfully did she make him feel it when he 
 returned and found her absorbed, apparently, 
 in the devotions of half a dozen other fellows. 
 It was about this time the other girl episode 
 occurred. Sam and Kitty, with hearts close 
 knit, in spite of brave show to the contrary, 
 were slowly drifting apart, and a certain Miss 
 Caxton appeared about ready to receive con- 
 gratulations, and as much as said so to Kitty, 
 who returned the stab on the spot, with smiling 
 
DOVE COTE DAYS. I I J 
 
 interest, like the plucky little woman she was at 
 bottom, and then in the dead hours of the night 
 deluged her pillow with tears :'nd was caught 
 in the act by Constance. 
 
 There was a double theatre party and sub- 
 sequent supper at the Bohemian Club two 
 nights later to which Miss Caxton did not hap- 
 pen to be bidden, but there, among others, was 
 Barriger. and there was Constance Ferris, be- 
 tween whom occurred a ten-minute talk, un- 
 heard of others, late in the evening, and from 
 that night dates Sam Barriger's enthusiastic, 
 chivalric admiration for his sister-in-law. "She 
 is the best and noblest woman that ever lived." 
 said he, some time later, "and the dearest — ex- 
 cept one." 
 
 It wasn't a happy courtship. Both parents 
 "kicked" vehemently at the idea of Kit's marry- 
 ing in the army. I don't much blame them, 
 despite my belief that army women as a rule, 
 are the happiest in the w<irld. For six months 
 they wouldn't listen to it and forbade Sam the 
 house. Then they offered to admit him on 
 probation, so to speak, and he wouldn't come. 
 Then Ferris, with a sigh, said if Mr. Barriger 
 w^ould resign and go into business in San I-Van- 
 
I 1 8 DOVE COTE DAYS, 
 
 cisc(3 he would consider it. Mr. Barriger re- 
 plied that his profession had long since been 
 chosen and he preferred it to anything else, 
 stock brokerage especially. Meantime they 
 tried the moth-eaten device of a trip abroad — 
 Kit, Constance and her mother — and that 
 didn't work. Finally Ferris gave in and at 
 the last moment his spouse followed suit. The 
 wedding was beautiful, the honeymoon blissful 
 — and then came the war. 
 
 It must be admitted that little Mrs. Barriger 
 did not behave like a heroine when Sam was 
 ordered across the seas. She considered him 
 a bit of personal property and contested the 
 claim of his Uncle Sam. Ferris wired to a 
 Senator or two, and the tender of a captaincy 
 in the subsistence department (of the volun- 
 teers) came flashing back, only to be promptly 
 declined. He was going with his guns. Ferris 
 at first called him an ungrateful cub, but was 
 out on the street waving his hat and shouting 
 with the rest of San Francisco when Ander- 
 son's — the first — expedition marched down to 
 the ships, and there at the wharf he reached up 
 and whacked his tall son-in-law between the 
 shoulder blades and stammered something to 
 
DOVE COTE DAYS. I I9 
 
 the effect that he was prDiul of him ami of his 
 going, atul of Kit for sticking to him. 
 
 Manihi fell in August. The tiag went up 
 on the Ayuntamiento and prices on the Escolta, 
 And along in the autumn, to the consternation 
 of the Commanding General, certain devoted 
 army wives maile their way to the Orient, and 
 nt) sooner was it known that the venturesome 
 half dozen were actually there than half a hun- 
 dred others were inspired with like ambition. 
 Peace for a season bade the world farewell as 
 far as the Commanding General and the Quar- 
 termaster's department were concerned, for the 
 number of women with missions to Manila out- 
 numbered the staterooms on the transports, 
 and, to put an end to importunity, out came the 
 order that none would be taken. This barred 
 women who couldn't afford the journey at their 
 own exi)ense. but was no hindrance to Mrs. 
 Barriger. She and Constance had been to 
 Honolulu on the Doric; 'twas but a fortnight 
 farther to Hong Kong: Constance was of years 
 that made her mistress of her own means and 
 meanderings ; Kit was determined to join her 
 husband; Lawyer lUirton had returned to his 
 practice and showetl symptoms of returning 
 
I20 DOVE COTE DAYS. 
 
 to his clevotiDiis, and so it happened that, late 
 in Septemher, wlien the O. & O. hner shoved 
 off for Shanghai, Hong Kong and intermediate 
 ports, the sisters sailed for the China Sea as 
 special charges of her gallant Captain, and a 
 month later were steaming into the mouth of 
 the swirling Pasig. 
 
 Now, at the edge of the Ermita suburb, close 
 by the cooling sea, Sam Barriger had found 
 a nest for his birdlings and, aided by the sym- 
 pathetic hands of a big-hearted army woman, 
 had it all in readiness when the steamer was 
 sighted. It was a cozy little box, built after 
 the Philippine fashion of solid stone on the 
 gnnind floor, solid wood on the floorings above 
 and l)elow, luit of light, airy framework — lat- 
 tice, bamboo and shell — as to superstructure. 
 Tough enough it was to resist tornado, yet 
 sufficiently elastic to give and swing and sway 
 in case of earthquake, and. if it had to C(3me 
 down, not so heavy as to smash everything on 
 which it might descend. 
 
 It was owned by a native merchant, glad 
 enough to take American coin in preference to 
 Manila currency. Its front wall abutted on 
 the narrow sidewalk : the front doors and win- 
 
IK)VK COTI-: DAYS. I -' I 
 
 dows. Ptter the jealous Oriental mode, being 
 heavily barred with iron. Its rear elevation 
 gave ujion a pretty garden bounded north and 
 south by high walls of hewn stone, cappe/1 by 
 jagged glass set in cement. Westward through 
 the high, vertical iron pickets of a forbidrling 
 fence shone the sparkling bay. which at high 
 tide bathed the sea-wall in briny foam. East 
 and west a broad latticed gallery or vestibule 
 overhung the lower story. The spiral stair- 
 way from the ground floor opened on the 
 breezv salon off which were the bedrooms rm 
 one side, the dining and spare room on the 
 other. The kitchen was in a little detached 
 structure connected with the gallery and din- 
 ing-room by a light, bamboo bridge. The serv- 
 ants' f|uarters were below. It was furnished 
 simply and sufficiently after the Oriental fash- 
 ion, with broad, cane-bottomed bedsteads, with 
 deep, easv lounging chairs and settees of bam- 
 boo and cane. It was destitue of carpets, f>or- 
 ticrcs or heavy curtains. It lacked electric 
 lights and marbled bathrooms, but a fountain 
 plashed i)erennially in a broad basin in the gar- 
 den. The north and south windows looke<l 
 out on luxuriant foliage and brilliant flowers. 
 
122 DOVE COTE DAYS. 
 
 A few paintings by native hands — no mean 
 limners they — adorned the walls. The chan- 
 deliers and sconces shone like polished silver, 
 and Captain Adair, dropping in in his friendly 
 way to see iiow Barriger was settled, gazed 
 approvingly anil then semi-satirically dubbed 
 the place the "Dove-Cote." 
 
 "There's only one thing about it I don't like, 
 Barriger," said he, after a leisurely survey, 
 "and that's your neighbors. Native houses on 
 every side of you but that ;" and he pointed out 
 over the broad bosom of the bay, dotted with 
 warships, tramps and transports, and all glis- 
 tening in the declining sun. 
 
 "What's the matter with the natives?" said 
 Sam. "They seem amicable enough, in all 
 conscience. Six women were here this morn- 
 ing to bid for the family ^Vash. How quick 
 they knew womenfolk were coming!" 
 
 "How quick they know everything!" said 
 Adair, knocking the ash off his cigarette and 
 strolling to the lattice at the front. A shove 
 with his powerful hand sent the high frame 
 sliding easily back in its groove, and it opened 
 on the narrow street and opposite houses barely 
 forty feet away. 
 
DOVE COTE DAYS. • IJ3 
 
 Seated in a somewhat similar gallery, heed- 
 less of the glare of the slanting sun. was a na- 
 tive woman with two men, one of the latter in 
 the uniform of an officer of the Insurgent 
 Army. All three glanced up at sound of the 
 sliding lattice, and at sight of Adair the ofBcer 
 sprang (juickly to his feet and stood at salute. 
 Grimly the Captain responded, then turned to 
 his junior. 
 
 "I only wish you were near your battery (*r 
 OUT ktrracks. (ir even in town, close to the river, 
 where they CDuld get out to the transports. 
 When the row begins it will be all of a sudden 
 and there's no refuge near you." 
 
 "It was the best I could do,"' answered Bar- 
 riger. an anxious cloud on his fine face, "and 
 they seem confident at headquarters no row is 
 coming." 
 
 "Yes, that's what they give out, luit they're 
 not so confident that we don't get scare orders 
 and warnings thrice a week. Now. what's 
 that fellow Medina doing yonder? 'S'ou kn..w 
 who he is. don't you?" 
 
 "I don't." answered Barriger. "I've met 
 him a few times on the street and he's mon- 
 strous p(,)lite." 
 
124 ' DOVE COTE DAYS. 
 
 "He was with Pio del Pilar, all the same, the 
 (lay the I^'ourtecnth came so near a clash with 
 the Tagals over at the Paco cigar factory. He 
 is as smooth a scamp as ever I met. He can 
 lie in three languages and tell the truth in none. 
 He l)elongs out at San Pedro Macati, but 
 spends most of his time picking up news in 
 town. Keep an eye on him, Sam." 
 
 And Medina — Ysidro Medina — was in that 
 opposite gallery when, a few days later, happy 
 Kitty Barriger threw back the lattice to breathe 
 the morning air, and with his hand on his heart 
 he made her a low bow. The girl-wife was de- 
 lighted with her quaint and pretty nest. She 
 missed the luxuriant flowers and luscious fruits 
 of her California home. She found the Manila 
 market but a sparse and inadequate means of 
 varying their daily fare, but her Filipino chef, 
 with his high-bred, Spanish manner, his high- 
 combed "Pompadour" front, his immaculate 
 white ropas, knew how to levy on the native 
 fishermen as they paddled swiftly by in their 
 sharp-bowed bancas. He had the run of neigh- 
 boring poultry yards. His fish breakfasts and 
 curried chicken lunches, his rich coffee and deli- 
 cate. Japan-brewed tea, all appealed to her 
 
DOVE COTE DAYS. 125 
 
 dainty palate and won her sister's smiling ap- 
 proval. As for Sam, he had the appetite of a 
 strong, stalwart, healthful man, and sole 
 leather might not have proved indigestible in 
 such surn-undings. Before they had been 
 housekeeping a week the sisters had received 
 the visits of a swarm of soldier wives and 
 daughters, and at least a score of officials had 
 found time to call. Some of them, notably 
 Sam's battery associates, more than once; one 
 of them, not of Sam's battery, but of the troop- 
 ers away over at the Marcelino (to their in- 
 tense interest and amusement, by the way, for 
 he had been regarded a confirmed old bachelor) 
 no less than thrice — and that was Captain 
 Adair. But then, despite ten years' difference 
 in their ages, he had somehow become Barri- 
 srer's closest friend. , 
 
 "Yes," said Mrs. Sam one beautiful evening 
 after their arrival, as the quartette left the din- 
 ner-table and strolled out to the rear gallery to 
 watch the brilliant night lights of the fleet, "I 
 thought we should have trouble about servants, 
 but they are admirably trained. Manuel is a 
 capital cook, and so respectful and willing. 
 Ypolito is deft and quick, and so noiseless, you 
 
126 DOVE COTK DAYS. 
 
 know. W liy, 1 never seem to hear him mov- 
 ing around, and as for Carmencita, liis Httle dot 
 of a wife, she's the neatest, cleanest, daintiest 
 little mite yon ever saw, always smiling and 
 busy, and she, too — why, -she's just like a 
 mouse!" 
 
 "Ye — es. I noticed it," responded Adair, 
 glancing over his shoulder at Manuel approach- 
 ing with tiny cups of cofifee on a lacquered tray. 
 "That is one reason why I advocated the strong 
 box." 
 
 Here laughing voices and swishing skirts 
 were heard upon the stairs, and while Mrs. 
 Barriger arose to receive her guests, Adair 
 seized the opportunity to secure a place by Miss 
 Ferris' side. Talk was general for half an 
 hour. It was after the Brents had gone, and 
 Adair knew it was time for him to be moving, 
 that Constance Ferris looked up into his earn- 
 est eyes and said : 
 
 "Captain Adair, I have heard you speak 
 twice now of the possibility of treachery or 
 theft on the part of the servants. Tell me 
 why." 
 
 "It is born in them, to begin with. Miss Fer- 
 ris," said he, "and developed by three centuries 
 
DOVE COTE DAYS. 1 27 
 
 of Latin rule. Valuables shouUl be in the i)ay- 
 master's big sate u]) in town — not here. You, 
 T notice — pardon me — wear very little jewelry, 
 but Mrs. Rarriger's rings — now — " .And the 
 look in the direction of those tiny white hands 
 on which were flashing gems of price and 
 beauty was elo(|uent with anxiety. 
 
 And so it happened that a genial Colonel at 
 the Ayuntamiento became custodian of certain 
 valuables of the Barriger household. Kitty 
 would not part w ith her jiretty watch, her locket 
 with Sam's picture therein that almost always 
 slept at her snowy neck, and then household 
 money they had to have. But a month went 
 by without their missing a stiver or seeing a 
 sign of dishonesty, and then Kitty said 
 "Pshaw I" and drove to the paymaster's and 
 got her packet. There was to be a reception 
 and dance at the Division Commander's and 
 she needed those diamonds. 
 
 That night as Adair strolled slowly bark to 
 barracks after a visit of more than usual length 
 he came suddenly upon Captain Ysidro Me- 
 dina, of Pilar's staff, at the corner of the Padre 
 Faura, and but grullly responded to his elabo- 
 rate "niiriuis uochcs. Caballcro." He never 
 
128 DOVE COTE DAYS. 
 
 had fancied Medina, and lie had grown to ab- 
 hor liim since the Tagal officer had taken to 
 frequent visits at the opposite house and im- 
 pressive salutations to the sisters whenever 
 they appeared on the front gallery. "What 
 the devil is that fellow waiting here for at this 
 time of night?" growled Adair, as he turned to 
 the left. A mellow-toned bell was chiming 
 ten o'clock from the tower of the old Spanish 
 church the block above. It was answ^ered from 
 the cupola of the Jesuit College and by the 
 soft, prolonged notes of the cavalry trumpet 
 sounding taps across the open fields beyond the 
 observatory. Therr behind him came a sentry's 
 challenge, sharp and imperative, "Halt! Who 
 is there?" And, w^hirling about, supposing 
 himself the object, Adair caught sight of the 
 blue-shirted regular with leveled bayonet, fac- 
 ing a figure in native white — a figure that in a 
 strangely familiar voice squeaked the trem- 
 ulous answer: 
 
 ''Ami go Filipino." 
 
 It was Ypolito! 
 
 And yet, when Adair left the Barrigers not 
 ten minutes before, Ypolito, the urbane, the 
 incomparable, Mrs. Kitty's boast, in fact, was 
 
DOVE COTE DAYS. I JtJ 
 
 tlmiigrht to be soiukI asleep in his dwii little den 
 underneatli the suloi. He had issued from a 
 narrow passage between some native hotises 
 leading to the side-walk of the Calle Faura, be- 
 lieving, dr-ubtless, that the coast w^as clear, but 
 had. encountered the leveled bayonet at the cor- 
 ner c»f the Calle Marina, lie was all of a 
 tremble and at tlie sight of Adair began to 
 plead. "Mi hcnnano! niuy uialo. Scnor, iiiiix 
 male I" A sick brother is something a Tagal 
 can trump up at an instant's notice. Adair 
 dcubted, but what could he do? The corporal 
 came and said. "Let him go." The orders 
 were to treat the natives with every possible 
 consideration and kindness, to .salute their offi- 
 cers, to fraternize with their men. But Adair 
 connected Captain Ysidro with Ypolito's prowl- 
 ing and went home dissatisfied. 
 
 "You'll have to watch those beggars of 
 yours. Barriger." said he the next day. "And 
 you'd better coax Mrs. Kitty to return those 
 valuables to the safe." 
 
 But Kit wouldn't. Ypolito and his wife 
 were .«;aints and Ypolito's brother was really 
 7'cry ill : she was sure of it. Constance added 
 her persuasion and was called cruel and sus- 
 
130 DOVE COTE DAYS. 
 
 picious. The little matron had a will of her 
 own. 
 
 "I don't see how anything can he taken. 
 Adair," said Barriger. finding his wife obdu- 
 rate. "Yon know I am always home at night, 
 and — " 
 
 "Yes. but will you always be?" (lueried 
 Adair anxiously. "Things are getting squal- 
 lier every day." 
 
 .-\nd so they were. The whole demeanor of 
 the natives was changing. Their leaders. 
 balked in their plan to compel the recognition 
 of their government and control, had with- 
 drawn to the north, had virtually penned up 
 the Americans in Manila and forbidden their 
 crossing the lines toward the surrounding vil- 
 lages, even while they themselves claimed the 
 right to go within the lines at will. Their 
 guns were planted commanding the American 
 outposts. Their earthworks grew with every 
 night. Their ofiicers and soldiers repeatedly 
 insulted and threatened our sentries, and it was 
 evident that the clash was coming, and com- 
 ing soon. Other officers had arranged at first 
 alarm to send their households at once to the 
 transports in the bay. But Barriger's house 
 
I)()\'I-: fOTl". DAYS. I l\ 
 
 was a mile from the river landing- and the 
 water was so shallow in the rear of their sea- 
 wall that nn launch could land, or even venture 
 within fifty feet of the beach. Everywhere the 
 story was current that the attack from without 
 would he accompanied by an uprising of the 
 natives within. No wonder family men were 
 anxious! 
 
 And then came a demand for Barriger's 
 services at division headquarters. He spoke 
 Spanish and was needed in the frequent clashes 
 that occurred l)etween the outposts out Santa 
 Ana way. Thrice in »^ne week he was sent to 
 remonstrate with General Ricarte upon the ag- 
 gressions of the Tagal officers and guards at 
 Concordia Bridge. Thrice was Ricarte pro- 
 fuse in explanation and expressions of regret. 
 "It shouldn't occur again," said he. Vet it did, 
 night after night, and the Division General saw 
 the inevitable and made his dispositions accord- 
 ingly. 
 
 Ten weeks of bliss — ten weeks of "dove- 
 cote days." as Adair called them — were fol- 
 lowed by a fortnight of war alarms. Adair 
 had become an almost daily visitor, welcomed 
 with jtlayfnl anrl cvcr-Lrr"wing confidence by 
 
1^2 1)(A H COTE DAYS. 
 
 Kitty, and a certain sweet shyness and reserve 
 by Constance. All the First Division knew 
 by that time what took that stalwart dragoon 
 so constantly to Barriger's, and now that the 
 General had seized upon Sam and kept him so 
 constantly on new and novel duties, Adair took 
 it upon himself to plan for the protection of 
 the inmates of the Cote. Out in the bay the 
 Biltmore swung at anchor a mile to the west, 
 Quaker-like in her leaden gray. Adair brought 
 her executive and w^ard-room officers to call. 
 This w-as magnanimous in him, for they kept 
 coming, but it was all part of his plan. Lieu- 
 tenant-Commander Sternsheets promised that 
 the instant they got wind of trouble a boat 
 should be sent close back of the Dove-Cote and 
 Jacky should wade ashore and bear the doves 
 to sea. Then Adair had further plans of his 
 own. The Division General had issued in 
 typewritten form confidential instructions to 
 his brigade commanders and certain staff offi- 
 cers. It was but a puny force he had to defend 
 so big a territory against such a host of foes, 
 but they were stout-hearted fellows, and so 
 long as the insurgents did not fathom the plans 
 
DOVI-: COTE DAYS. I 33 
 
 and make counter dispositions there was little 
 to dread. 
 
 "You shall join your beloved battery if it 
 comes to fis^hting," said the chief, with a smile, 
 to Mr. Barriger. "But meantime I need you." 
 And only Kitty rebelled at the distinction ac- 
 corded him. 
 
 One January evening when not a breath of 
 air seemed stirring, after their daily drive and 
 late dinner they were seated on the rear gallery 
 watching the brilliant searchlights of the fleet 
 and the varicolored signals twinkling across the 
 moonlit liay. Kitty sat with her husband's 
 hand in hers, looking up into his face and softly 
 cooing, as became a dove of high degree. .\ 
 few paces away. Constance reclined in her easy 
 chair, with Adair l^ending eagerly t(iward her, 
 yet saying little. The soft plash of the wave- 
 lets was almost the only sound to break upon 
 the stillness of the night, and even they seemed 
 to be saying only. "Hush! Hush!" in sooth- 
 ing monotone. Visitors came and went, and 
 at last the ships' bells had tinkled in dcniblets 
 the si.x silvery strokes that told 'twas eleven 
 o'clock. Adair knew he should be going to 
 barracks, yet lingered. B(nh oflicers were in 
 
134 DOVE COTE DAYS. 
 
 kliaki, for calls to arms had been fre(|iient, and 
 from the left breast-pocket of Barriger's coat 
 protruded about one-fourth the length of a 
 Russia leather case, a flat pocketbook. 
 
 "Can't you stow that inside?" Adair had 
 asked. "These stiff-legged ponies will jolt it 
 out some dark night and you wouldn't like to 
 lose that defense plan/' 
 
 "I always button it inside when I buckle on 
 my sword belt/' said Barriger. "Then it 
 can't work out. Besides, I know it all by 
 heart, and can put every company just where 
 it belongs. Let's see," and he began to tell 
 them off. "First Brigade, First Battalion, 
 Washingtons. from tobacco warehouse march 
 to Paco Bridge. Second Battalion, Bishop's 
 Palace, cross bridge into East Paco, mass in 
 churchyard. Third Battalion, with brigade 
 commander. Block House ii. First Idaho, six 
 companies, march to Paco Bridge, two com- 
 panies Malate, local guards. Both batteries to 
 Paco cemetery and await orders. Cavalry to 
 maintain order in town. Mounted patrol 
 through suburbs. Second Brigade, Four- 
 teenth, at Singalon front. North Dakotas hold 
 Malate front — " 
 
DOVt; COTE DAYS. Ij:! 
 
 "Well, that's ajl very well." said Adair. 
 "What I'm thinking of is its falling into native 
 hands. They can have it translated easy 
 enough. Where do you keep it at night?" 
 
 "With my pistol under my pillow. Hullo! 
 There's a fire!" 
 
 Springing to their feet and leaning out over 
 the garden they could hear shouting to the 
 S(mthward and the rapid clang of a church bell, 
 ringing after the American village fashion in 
 rapid alarm. Sentries had by this time been 
 forbidden to shoot — the customary garrison 
 alarm — for the frail bamboo and nipa huts 
 were forever taking fire, and hardly a night 
 passed without a blaze somewhere about 
 Manila. The rising glare showed it to be 
 toward the Cuartel de Malate. and with hasty 
 adieu Adair sprang down the steps to join his 
 troo}). In ten minutes the tire had practically 
 burned itself out and in twenty all was still 
 again. Before midnight the dove-cote was 
 dark and silent: Barriger's little household 
 had sought their pillows. .\n hour later came 
 a clatter of hoofs and a banging at the barred 
 doors below. Mr. Barriger was wanted at di- 
 vision headquarters at once. The orderly had 
 
1^6 DOVE COTE DA VS. 
 
 broug-ht a spare horse. Kit clung- to him tear- 
 fully as he buckled on his revolver, and col- 
 lapsed in her sister's arms when he galloped 
 away. For half an hour they watched and 
 hstened on the front gallery, but even the snarl- 
 ing native dogs were still. The night was 
 without a sound. At one o'clock Constance 
 saw the little matron once more snugly stowed 
 in bed and soon dozing off to sleep. 
 
 Less than an hour later she was aroused by 
 an awful, agonized, terrible scream. Spring- 
 ing from her own bed and seizing a pretty 
 nickel-plated revolver, barefooted as she was, 
 Constance darted through the darkness to 
 Kitty's room. Striking a light, she found her 
 sobbing and shivering by the bedside, her 
 M'^atch, her locket and one ring gone, also a 
 little sum of money from the bureau drawer. 
 All she could tell was that a stealthy tugging 
 at her finger had suddenly aroused her. Then 
 a hand had been spread over her mouth, and 
 with one desperate effort she had hurled it off 
 and screamed for help. A dark figure had 
 bounded out of the side window. Then came 
 Constance within and the rush of the guard 
 without. 
 
DOVK COTE DAYS. 1^7 
 
 Some of these latter were still searching 
 about the premises when Barriger came gallop- 
 ing- back full speed, threw himself from the 
 saddle and rushed upstairs. One glance told 
 him what had occurred. One glance told Con- 
 stance there was something worse than-^they 
 had yet discovered. He took his wife in his 
 arms, but his eyes summoned her sister and his 
 white lips framed the question : "That pocket- 
 book — with the papers — is that safe?" 
 
 The Russia leather case was gone ! 
 
 One week later Ypolito. who, the night of the 
 robbery, had been found by the searching guard 
 to be placidly sleeping in his own particular 
 dove-cote at the rear, announced with tears 
 that his brother had succumbed to his long ill- 
 ness and was to be buried forthwith. He de- 
 sired a day in which to pay his last homage, 
 another in which to bedew his grave with tears. 
 He would then return. Nothing could exceed 
 the concern with which he and Manuel had 
 heard the recital of that robl)ery. Nothing 
 could exceed the zeal with which they had 
 joined in the search. Little Carmencita was 
 inconsolable. Captain Vsidro Medina called 
 twice to ])resent his fluent compliments and to 
 
138 DOVE COTK DAYS. 
 
 tender his services, to place his heart at the feet 
 of the ladies, to pray them to be tranquil. The 
 bosom of the Fili])ino heaved with abhorrence 
 at the outrage to which they had been sub- 
 jected, and never would he rest until he should 
 discover the thief, recover the ravished gems 
 and lay them. v. ith the ears of the perpetrator 
 — and again his heart of hearts — at the feet 
 aforementioned. 
 
 Ten days later, one lovely starlit February 
 evening, on a sudden the bugles rang all over 
 Manila and a crackling flame encompassed it 
 round about. The storm had burst and Aguin- 
 aldo's army leaped to the assault of the thin, 
 unsheltered lines in blue. With half his little 
 force far extended on the fighting front, the 
 American leader contested the ground from 
 without. With the other half dispersed in 
 small detachments over the wide area of the 
 city and suburbs, he watched for the threatened 
 uprising within. Along the river front 
 launches, cascos, even slim, canoe-shaped ban- 
 cas, were filled with pallid, silent women and 
 children, the families of American and foreign 
 residents, who were hurried out to the fleet of 
 transports in the bay. But at half-past ten, 
 
DOVE COTE DAYS. 139 
 
 nearly an hour alter the alarm had sounded, 
 the sisters still clung to each other in the dark- 
 ened dove-cote alone — just one American sen- 
 try on the pavement helow to interpose between 
 them and the rage (jf a thousanil natives should 
 the Tagals rise. 
 
 Obedient to some signal from the flagship, 
 just at sunset, the Biltmore had steamed away 
 toward old Cavite. Xo rescuing boat appeared 
 upon the face ui the waters. Barriger had 
 been summoned to his guns at four o'clock and 
 was even now thundering away somewhere out 
 < 'U the threatened front. Adair, with his troop, 
 had been scouting on the northern side ever 
 since the previous day. Every mun in iNlanila 
 had his work cut out for him and the sisters 
 were practically neglected. At half-past ten, 
 as the sullen boom of the distant cannon told 
 that it was no casual skirmish, but an attack in 
 force.' Kitty knelt, shivering, with her fair head 
 pillowed in her sister's lap. while Constance, 
 facing the door, sat with her finger on the trig- 
 ger of Adair's Christmas present. And so she 
 sat as through the darkness two white-robed 
 form? stole noiselessly up the spiral stairs, and 
 through the gloom the <l'!<l<.\vv ^nrctrt's came 
 
I40 DOVE COTE DAYS. 
 
 gliding over the polished hardwood floor until, 
 not five yards away, the straining eyes of Con- 
 stance made them out. and without a tremor in 
 her tone she challenged, "Who is there?" 
 
 The answer was a laugh, the snap of a 
 parlor match, the touch of the flame to a kero- 
 sene lamp, and there in the gloom, grinning, 
 stood Manuel with gleaming knife in hand, 
 while Ypolito, the saintly, the sorrow-stricken, 
 with a grin upon his black face, advanced upon 
 them, his blinking eyes fixed on Kitty's jew^eled 
 hands, his long brown fingers clutching. Her 
 scream of terror rang out on the night, accom- 
 panied by the instant bang of the revolver, a 
 yell of dismay from within, a shout of alarm 
 from without, then a rush and scurry of feet, 
 a battering at the door below, a clattering up 
 the stairs as of spurred heels, a dash to the 
 window of flitting ghosts. All on a sudden the 
 situation changed, and while two or 'three 
 troopers hurled themselves through the rooms 
 and over the sills in pursuit, Dave Adair, 
 breathless but glowing, bounded forward. 
 
 "You are safe? You are unharmed?" he 
 cried. "Oh, thank God for that!" 
 
 And God's mercy it was that led him in the 
 
\\ III \ < 111 I 
 
 I .i>t \ ■ Ml r ^111 !■ ■ nil .1 1' III 
 
DOVE COTE DAYS. I4I 
 
 nick of time, not to the fn-nt entrance, which 
 was heavily barred, but. with a launch bor- 
 rowed from the captain of the port, to the shoal 
 water at the rear. There was no time to lose. 
 He and his men were needed at the front. The 
 doors were unbarred. A brace of prOvost 
 guardsmen hurried uj) from below to take 
 charge of the premises, and then the sisters 
 were led down through the gardens to the steps 
 of the sea wall. There, fifty yards away, the 
 night lights of the Ceres were dancing on the 
 tide. Thither, "cat's cradled." two sturdy 
 troopers splashing waist deep b<:ire Kitty, still 
 tremulous with fright, leaving Adair and Con- 
 stance for the moment at the steps. Out on 
 the Calle San Jose a cavalry trumpet sounded 
 a sudden peal — a quick, imperative summons. 
 "They are calling me, Constance," he mur- 
 mured. "W'e are needed, and go I must. 
 Quick! Will you trust y.-nrsplf t. • mc — 
 alone?" 
 
 She was standing on the second step, he up- 
 on the strand. Her answer was to look down 
 in his upturned face, then to place her white 
 hand ui)on his shoulder. Instantly his left arm 
 
14- DOVE COTE DAYS. 
 
 circled about her knees, his right arm about her 
 waist, and swept her from her feet. The 
 slender white hand stole about his neck, her 
 head sank almost to his shoulder and without 
 a word, but with his heart hammering in his 
 breast, he plunged into the sea. \\'ith long, 
 sweeping strides he bore his precious burden 
 deeper, deeper into the foaming waters. The 
 little surges lapped his knees, his waist, and he 
 raised her higher, drawing her yet closer to his 
 breast, lest the water should reach her feet. 
 Ten paces from the dancing craft his troopers 
 met him and sought to aid. "No ; hurry to 
 your horses! Say I'll be there in a moment," 
 were his impatient orders. And then for one 
 blessed moment she was his — alone ; and her 
 lovely face, upturned, lay so close, so close to 
 his ! The warm breath from her parted lips 
 fanned his rough, unshaven cheek. 
 
 With sudden impulse he bowed his head. 
 
 *Tf it is the last word I ever say, Constance, 
 I love you — I have loved you ever since you 
 came." he murmured. "God grant 1 may say 
 it again to-morrow!" 
 
 One instant of silence, then a tightening of 
 
DOVE COTK DAYS. 1 43 
 
 the clasp ah(mt his neck, a murniur soft as that 
 of the siininier sea about them. 
 "Amen — David." 
 
 When the guns had done their work from 
 Battery Knoll next day, and with bated breath 
 Sam Barriger stood in the drifting smoke and 
 watched the fierce rush of the brigade, he saw- 
 soon the stretcher bearers trudging back with 
 their burdens, the sorely wounded, and mar- 
 veled at their number. A staff tjfficer came 
 galloping over from the highway, a flat, red 
 Russia leather pocket-case in his hand which he 
 waved triumphantly aloft, then tossed to Sam. 
 "Where was it? — where'd you find it?" was 
 the eager i|uestion. 
 
 "1 didn't. It was Adair. He shot that fel- 
 low Medina, of Pilar's staff. He had it. 
 
 "You're entitled to two hundred dollars, 
 Me.\., and no (juestions asked. Adair," laughed 
 Barriger. ten minutes later, grasping the ex- 
 tendetl hand of his comrade in both his own and 
 looking up with shining eyes, "to say nothing 
 of all I owe you for — last night. How'll von 
 have it?" 
 
1 44 DONE COTE DAYS. 
 
 Adair bent low in saddle, his own eyes kind- 
 ling. 
 
 "You might put it — in a wedding gift, 
 Sam." he said. 
 
 The hand clasped tightly. 
 
 "You're the luckiest man, and she's the best, 
 the dearest woman that ever lived — except 
 one." 
 
He broke from rluni to clasj) Ktlicl in his arms. 
 
A RIVAL ALLY. 
 
 They had met fur ilie first time at the 
 grounds of the Tennis Chih beyond the Calle 
 Marcel ino — she a thorough-going Enghsh girl 
 much given to open-air Hfe with concomitant 
 heahh and freckles ; he an Ensign of His Maj- 
 esty Uncle Sam's warship Biltmore. doing duty 
 in Manila Bay, and the devoted to every reach- 
 able pretty girl in Manila- balconies. Many 
 were i)retty, but few reachable. Belles of the 
 Spanish i)ersuasi('n had remained in haughty 
 seclusion ever since the first of May, when their 
 flag had gone down in smoke and flame off 
 Cavite. American girls were only just begin- 
 ning tf) arrive and turn the heads of all manner 
 of men. and even those of the disdainful daugh- 
 ters of Castile and Aragon. who gazed in wist- 
 ful longing at tb.c dainty toilettes appearing 
 every evening on the Luneta. English, French 
 an<l Fili|)ino girls there were, most of whom 
 
146 A RIVAL ALLY. 
 
 were born 111)011 the island and knew no other 
 clime than that of Luzon. Middies from the 
 broad decks of H. M. S. Wonderful, and 
 young swells from the wardroom and steerage 
 messes of the French Jean Baptiste and the 
 German Hohenfriedwurst were much in evi- 
 dence, in their natt}' white summer dress, every 
 tennis afternoon, but Yankees had been few 
 and far l)etween — something was always going 
 on to keep them going off — expeditions to 
 Negros, Hoik) or Cebu — mysterious missions 
 along the vague, lightless coast ; landing parties 
 hither and yon in search of contrabands of war 
 alleged to be ever slipping in from Hongkong 
 or Shanghai, Yokohama or Nagasaki. Among 
 men their absence was not much regretted, for, 
 having but recently blow-n IMontojo's fleet to 
 flinders, the Yankees were necessarily interest- 
 ing, and, being by far the best dancers on tiie 
 station, were correspondingly first favorites 
 with the women folk. The English Club had 
 opened its doors to them, but held it bad form 
 for girls to open their arms even to the extent 
 of an innocent valse, a thing the average 
 Briton could only execute in one way, or a 
 catchy two-step, which he couldn't do at all. It 
 
A RIVAL ALLY. 147 
 
 SO happened, therefore, that Ensign Percy 
 Breese was looked to l)e in big luck when sent 
 ashore for a month of some duty in or about 
 the busy office of the Captain of the Port. Life 
 aboard ship, even in December, was something 
 of a broil, despite electric fans and cooling 
 shower-baths. The sun beat untempered on 
 the armored sides, even though awnings 
 shielded the crowded decks, and ships' interiors 
 were ovenlike in temperature, and men grew 
 curt in speech, intolerant of differing views and 
 irascible at opposition. It was the opinion of 
 his fellows of the flagship that "Breezy" had 
 been chosen for this particular duty because of 
 an equanimity of temperament that had stood 
 proof against a 'tween-decks temperature, 
 whereas his messmates on the cruiser swore it 
 was all along of "Breezy's" cheek — he was no 
 better natured than the rest of them, only he 
 looked it. 
 
 At all events, here he was "gettin' shore duty 
 on sea pay." said an envious brother-in-arms 
 who loved the epigrammatic even at the ex- 
 pense of veracity, and Bob Bruce, of the Hong 
 Kong and Shanghai Bank, had taken a liking 
 to the blithe young fellow, and later took the 
 
148 A RIVAL ALLY. 
 
 young Ensign himself to the tennis court and 
 presented him to the maids and matrons there 
 assembled, among others to Miss Ethel Wins- 
 ton, in whom was centered Mr. Bruce's uni- 
 verse. This proceeding, said Bruce's crony — 
 one of the invaluable, if unvalued, class of 
 friends ever ready to tell us the truth about our- 
 selves, — was as asinine a thing as even Bruce 
 could have done. This was strong language, 
 but not entirely unjustifiable. 
 
 Bruce was summoned over to Hong Kong 
 soon after Christmas and left the Ensign taking 
 tennis lessons of Miss Ethel. He was gone 
 only as long as the Esmeralda's round trip, ten 
 days or so, but when he returned Breese had 
 become tutor and Ethel Winston pupil. The 
 game was no longer tennis — it had turned to 
 hearts. 
 
 In justice to Breese it must be said at once 
 that he had no knowledge of Bruce's hopes or 
 intentions, but could as much be said of Miss 
 Winston? Probably not. Few girls are so 
 blind as not to see when a man is really in love. 
 Some are gifted with such keenness of vision 
 as to see it before the man himself, while an 
 irrational few can discover evidences of a ten- 
 
A RIVAL ALLY. 149 
 
 der passion where its absence is not even a 
 matter of doubt. Miss Winston well knew 
 that big Bob Bruce was ready to place his 
 broad hand, honest heart and solid bank ac- 
 count at her service. She well know that a 
 little encouragement would precipitate prompt 
 avowal, but up to the time when Breese was 
 blown across her path she couldn't see her way 
 to holding out a hope, and after that she 
 wouldn't. 
 
 Perhaps it was as much because the women 
 took sides with Bruce against Breese that her 
 sym[)athies were enlisted for the latter. Even 
 girls who were secretly glad she didn't want 
 Bruce, and thereby left him in the market, de- 
 clared her conduct heartless. There were 
 barely half a dozen in English-speaking Manila 
 society at the time, to be sure, and there were 
 many more men than women. Therefore, said 
 the matrons, it was bad judgment on the part 
 of Bruce to bring in a rank outsider who had 
 good looks and good manners, but neither 
 money nor prosi)ects outside of his uniform — 
 the very kind of man a girl should not succumb 
 to. and the very kind she so often does. Be- 
 yond doubt, had Miss Winston's parents been 
 
150 A RIVAL ALLY. 
 
 alive to her predilecticjii they would have 
 brought her to her senses and back to Hong 
 Kong, but Miss Winston's father had died long 
 years before, leading his Tommies in a daring 
 dash on the mountain tribesmen of the border, 
 and his disconsolate but charming widow had 
 eventually remarried. 
 
 Miss Winston was mistress of her own 
 means, which were sufficient, if not super- 
 abundant. Pier stepfather was not altogether 
 to her liking. He had w^ealth, a hearty ap- 
 petite, and entire willingness that the lovely 
 daughter of his lovely wife should speedily find 
 *a mate of her own, and to this end, knowing 
 Bruce and Bruce's prospects, had rather strenu- 
 ously urged upon his better half the advantage 
 to accrue in accepting the invitation of Mrs. 
 Bryce-Foster that Ethel should spend a few 
 weeks with her in Manila. The war between 
 Spain and the Americans was over. Business 
 was brisk. The city was crowded with Ameri- 
 cans, to be sure, and some few of them weren't 
 half bad. Mrs. Bryce-Foster had spent a fort- 
 night at the Hong. Her husband was one of 
 the heaviest customers of the great banking 
 corporation. Ethel went, glad of a change, and 
 
A RIVAL ALLY. I5I 
 
 witli no idea how marvelous that change would 
 he. She had known Bob Bruce two years and 
 couldn't love him ; she iind known Percy 
 Breese only two weeks — and couldn't help it. 
 It was the quickest thing that season, said the 
 men who saw it, and a feeling grew up against 
 Breese. especially after Bruce came back and 
 f(-und himself supplanted. 
 
 Big Bob took it very much to heart. You 
 couldn't blame him. He had long loved this 
 winsome English girl. He could give her as 
 charming a home and as complete an establish- 
 ment as could l)e found in all the fair suburbs 
 of Manila, and Percy Breese hadn't a stiver 
 outside his pay, and didn't hesitate to say so. 
 But B.)b was manful alx>ut it and made no 
 moan. It was Mrs. Bryce- Foster who made 
 Plthel's life a burden. She raged in her heart 
 at the failure of a cherished plan. She had set 
 that heart on a match between the girl and that 
 big. burly, whole-souled fellow who seemed so 
 thoroughly at home in boating or cricket cos- 
 tume: so utterly at sea in a parlor. ''Bob has 
 t'">o big a heart for the business" was the only 
 thing his superiors could say to his detriment, 
 and there was no doubt the big heart was sorely 
 
152 A RIVAL ALLY. 
 
 wounded now. 'i'lic women said Ethel Wins- 
 ton had cnconraged him in every way, which 
 wasn't true and Mrs. Bryce-Foster knew it 
 wasn't true, yet dinned it into Ethel's ears day 
 after day, to the end that the girl begged hard 
 to be sent back to Hong Kong, and nearly cried 
 her eyes out when told that she must stay until 
 sent for, like some obsolete bit of household 
 furniture for which no place was held at home. 
 WHiat made matters immeasurably worse 
 was that Mrs. Bryce-Foster turned her vi3cal 
 guns on the dashing Ensign. I think the only 
 reason she did not forbid him the house was 
 that then she would have lost the joy of be- 
 rating him. And Percy Breese, who, said she, 
 should in all conscience have resented her 
 words and proudly withdrawn and refused to 
 set foot within her doors again, did nothing of 
 the kind. Like a little man he stood by his 
 sweetheart. "I'd take the double of it all," he 
 simply said, ''if I thought she would spare 
 you." And then he bent and tenderly kissed 
 the red and swollen eyelids and a very pretty, 
 pathetic little rosy mouth, and comforted her 
 infinitely, though she really couldn't say why. 
 The outlook was just as blank as ever, yet with 
 
A RIVAL ALLY. 
 
 OJ 
 
 Percy l^y her sitle. and so fond and so good to 
 look at. uulI so sympathetic and caressing, she 
 couldn't feel utterly miserable, as she knew she 
 ought to feel for all the troubles she had caused. 
 
 But this state of things couldn't last, and 
 Breese knew it. He had written to the com- 
 mercial magnate at Hong Kong, apprising him 
 of his love for Miss Winston and of their plea 
 for his and her mother's consent and blessing. 
 1 le had met Bruce twice and met him fairly and 
 squarely — rather a difficult thing to do when a 
 rival has not formally declared himself, if in- 
 deed it be not trying at any time. The two 
 had even shaken hands, for Bruce loved fair 
 play, and how was Breese to know', he asked 
 himself, timt he cared so much for Ethel Wins- 
 ton? All the same, Bob couldn't be congratu- 
 latory ujx^n Breese's apparent success, and he 
 was not. 
 
 "I had no idea — of — interfering with — any- 
 body, you know. Bruce." .said Percy. "It all 
 came about so sudden." Whereat Bruce 
 drojJi)ed his monocle and looked vacant and 
 dazed a numient: then submitted the sudden 
 and irrelevant (|uery : "D'you ever peg?" 
 which being interpreted meant would Breese 
 
154 A RIVAL ALLY. 
 
 have some Scotch and soda, a thing Breese 
 hated, yet took witli alacrity — some form of 
 atonement and sacrifice seeming appropriate to 
 the occasion. 
 
 "Look me iij), you know, whenever 1 can be 
 of any service." said Bob, and the two shook 
 hands and parted, each in his own way thank- 
 ing God the thing was over. Breese drew a 
 long brenth the moment he reached tlie open 
 street, jumped into the waiting carouiatta and 
 bade the driver speed to the Luneta. where she 
 would be sure to appear by the side of her host- 
 ess in the invariable evening drive along the 
 bay, the one open-air recreation known to cos- 
 mopolite Manila. 
 
 "I hope to Heaven I'll never have to look him 
 up, good fellow though he is." muttered the 
 Ensign to himself, mopping his wet forehead 
 as the sturdy little pony darted away with the 
 high-wheeled, covered cart.' The situation and 
 the Scotch combined had started the perspira- 
 tion from every pore. "The idea of having to 
 look up a fellow when you've — " But Mr. 
 Breese couldn't find words in which to finish 
 the sentence. No ! He distinctly wished he 
 might never have to see Bob Bruce again, 
 
A RIVAL ALLY. 1 55 
 
 which was most ungrateful when you remem- 
 ber that it was Bob who introduced him to his 
 sweetheart, now anxiously peering at every 
 passing cab and carriage in hopes of seeing 
 and signaling to Percy Breese. She had need 
 to speak with him. 
 
 They met at last. The band of the Twenty- 
 third Infantry was playing delightfully at the 
 kiosk. The parallel roads on either side were 
 blocked with carriages of all kinds known to 
 Manila. The walks were crowded with offi- 
 cers and soldiers in cool unifonns. The sun 
 had sunk to rest beyond Cavite. The electric 
 lights were beginning to sputter and flash all 
 along the famous drive, and to sparkle from 
 the decks of a score of transports and warships 
 anchored on the broad bosom of the bay. 
 .\long the curb and about each carriage-load 
 of women. English or American, were little 
 groups of officers and civilians of their race, 
 and their merry chat and laughter made marked 
 contrast with the silence that hovered every- 
 where over the Spanish or native occupants of 
 similar vehicles. 
 
 Disquieting rumors were afloat. The Fili- 
 pino leaders, despairing of winning control of 
 
156 A RIVAL ALLY. 
 
 Manila and the island in any other way, had 
 planned a general uprising of the populace 
 within the old walled city and throughout the 
 surrounding districts and suburbs, some of 
 them teeming with insurgent families. A gen- 
 eral massacre of Americans had been decreed 
 and planned. It was even hinted that no man 
 of foreign birth would be spared, and English 
 residents, long habituated to the fitful changes 
 in the political sky, found reason to look grave 
 and concerned when chatting in low tones 
 among themselves. It was known that the in- 
 surgent army now encircling Manila had with- 
 in a day or two turned back all American offi- 
 cers who had essayed to ride or drive beyond 
 the limits of the city, that earthworks and en- 
 trenchments were being thrown up every- 
 wdiere, and Krupp guns trained on the block- 
 houses occupied by American soldiery. The 
 clash was sure to come. The question was 
 how and when. 
 
 As the brief twilight of the tropics faded 
 swiftly into night, the eyes of all men seemed 
 to turn seaward, for, early though it was, the 
 flagship off the mole and the fleet across the 
 bay at Cavite were exchanging rapid signals. 
 
A RIVAL ALl.V. I 57 
 
 The brilliant red and green and wliite lights 
 flashed in (|uick succession. The band, having 
 carried out its program, struck up the Star- 
 Spangled Banner, whereat every soldier in the 
 garb of Uncle Sam whipped off his headgear 
 and sprang to attention, while sympathetic 
 Britons lifted their hats. Only Spaniards and 
 Filipinos remained sitting and smoking in sul- 
 len disregard. The strain ceased : the band 
 crime scuttling down out of its kiosk and 
 sprinted back to (juarters. The crowd began to 
 scatter, the throng of carriages whirled away, 
 and in the midst of it all Mr. Breese had sprung 
 from his two-wheeler and was eagerly and in 
 low tone talking with Miss Ethel, while a 
 comrade engrossed the attention of Mrs. Bryce- 
 Foster. \\niatever his quest or proposition, it 
 failed, for the girl sadly shook her head and 
 Breese intently listened as she bent and hur- 
 riedly whispered : 
 
 "What arc we to do. Percy? She has ac- 
 ce{)ted the MacLeans' invitation. We move 
 out to Santa Ana to-morrow." 
 
 The lad's face fell. Whether it meant that 
 Mrs. Bryce-Foster stood in dread of the pre- 
 dicted outbreak and wished to seek a place of 
 
158 A RIVAL ALLV. 
 
 safety, or whether it was only a scheme to break 
 off their intercourse, the proposed move prom- 
 ised to be effectual. Santa Ana lay on the 
 left bank of the Pasig, less than a mile beyond 
 the dividing-line between the territory occupied 
 by the American garrison of Manila and that 
 of the encircling insurgents. It was the head- 
 quarters of Ricarte's brigade of the insurgent 
 army. Their Krupp guns, captured from the 
 Spaniards, were trained on the flimsy wooden 
 blockhouses occupied by the Americans, and 
 their outposts were distributed in force all 
 along the winding estuary of the Concordia 
 and the Tripa de Gallina. 
 
 Across the Concordia bridge on the Santa 
 Ana road, across that narrow stream or farther 
 up the Pasig than the mouth of the cstcro, no 
 Americans now could \enture. Leveled bayonets 
 and stern commands to return rewarded every 
 attempt, even while the insurgents demanded 
 — and, odd as it may seem, were accorded — the 
 right to wander at will within the lines of the 
 Stars and Stripes. Breese saw in a glance that 
 the move to Santa Ana was a menace to their 
 future meetings, and yet he did not despair. 
 Had not Pio del Pilar assured the English resi- 
 
A RIVAL ALLV. 159 
 
 dents of Santa Ana that Ricarte's men were 
 ordered to show them every courtesy and at no 
 time to impede their coming or their going? 
 Would not civihan garh and a monocle trans- 
 form our Ensign into a very presentable, or at 
 least passable, young Briton? He tried it. un- 
 beknown to the Captain of the Port, one bright 
 January aftermton. driving out in MacLean's 
 victoria, whirling unopposed past the American 
 sentries at the west end of the Concordia bridge 
 and the Filipino guards at the other. He tried 
 it a second time, and again with success and 
 subse(;ucnt bliss, for Mrs. Bryce-Foster could 
 not openly assail him in presence of her host- 
 ess, and did not, at least, prevent his having a 
 sweet, whispered tctc-a-tctc with his lady-love 
 in the garden while the Yankee bugles at Paco 
 were sounding tattoo and their signal for 
 'Lights out." 
 
 Then he tried it a third time and on the third 
 of February, and there were evidences of ex- 
 citement and stir everywhere at the front. 
 Whole battalions of blue-shirted infantry 
 stood silently leaning on their arms along the 
 Calle Re^l and the guards at Blockhouse No. 
 1 1 were doubled. So. too. he found strong 
 
l6o A RIVAL ALLY. 
 
 detachments of swarthy Filipinos along the 
 highway across the stream, and the plaza in 
 Santa Ana was crowded, but their officers still 
 touched their broad-brimmed straw hats re- 
 spectfully to his host, even though some of their 
 number eyed his young companion suspiciously. 
 "They're catching on to you, Breese, as you 
 Yankees say," said MacLean. "I fancy you'd 
 l^etter not try it again." 
 
 But he did try it again, for the next was 
 Saturday evening and the Captain of the Port 
 went out to dine on the Olympia, and Breese 
 got away soon after five and caught his host 
 at the English Club away down in Ermita. 
 MacLean looked grave. 
 
 "I really think you'd better not risk it, 
 Breese," he said. "Little Sandoval, Ricarte's 
 aide-de-camp, told me this morning they knew 
 you were an American, but wouldn't interfere 
 so long as there w^ere no hostilities, but any 
 moment now they may break out. I — I wish 
 you wouldn't." 
 
 "I won't, if you say so — after to-night," was 
 the answer; "but I must see her for a few min- 
 utes, just because the thing is so sure to come 
 to a head. Then, of course, I'll have to be at 
 
A KIVAL ALLY. l6l 
 
 my station. It woiiUl mean court-martial if I 
 wasn't, for. of course, the Captain doesn't 
 know t>f my running it out to Santa Ana in 
 plain clotiies." 
 
 "It will mean something worse than court- 
 martial if they catch you on the Santa Ana 
 side. Th.ere's g<-»ing to be no end of a fight 
 at that bridge, and your fellows won't get it 
 for nothing, let me tell you. T know these little 
 brown men, and know how game they are. 
 Indeed. Breese, I wish you wouldn't come — to- 
 night." 
 
 But the Ensign was too deeply in love to be 
 reasonable. He went, was again passed by the 
 guards and patrols along the Filipino side in 
 deference to his friend and conductor. They 
 dined in some anxiety, for strong battalions of 
 insurgents had marched in from the neighbor- 
 hood of Santa Mesa to the north, and had been 
 busily ferrying across the Pasig long hours 
 that afternoon. The plaza, the native houses, 
 the great churchyard and the side streets were 
 thronged with native soldiery. Ethel was pale 
 and troubled. 
 
 At nine o'clock Breese led her out to the ter- 
 race overlooking the placid river, and in the 
 
1 62 A RIVAL ALLY. 
 
 hush of the lovely evening sought to comfort 
 and reassure her. They were seated in a little 
 arbor, her fair head resting on his shoulder, 
 her slender hand clasped in his, when, noise- 
 less as a shadow, a native canoe came swiftly, 
 suddenly gliding under the bank and was skill- 
 fully paddled to the stone steps at the water's 
 edge. Two men crouched amidships, who, at 
 a whispered word from the boatman, cautiously 
 stepped ashore, and, bending low, came up the 
 stone stairway and i^eered about the garden. 
 Breese felt that Ethel's heart was fluttering like 
 that of a captive bird, but she sat upright, gaz- 
 ing at the shadowy pair. Both wore the uni- 
 forms of officers of the insurgent army. The 
 scabbards of their swords gleamed in the star- 
 light. They were muttering excitedly in the 
 harsh language of the Tagals, and in one of 
 the two Miss Winston presently recognized 
 the young staff officer of Ricarte. \\'hat could 
 be the object of their cautious and secret visit 
 unless it involved in some way the life or safety 
 of her lover? From the upper story of the 
 mansion the sound of soft laughter and the 
 rippling note of a piano came floating upon the 
 still night air, and tiptoeing, the two intruders 
 
A RIVAL ALLY. 1 63 
 
 crouched slowly up the pathway and were lost 
 to view in the shrubbery near the heavy stone 
 walls. 
 
 "Percy," she whispered, clinging to him in 
 dread, "can't you bribe that boatman ? It is 
 your only chance. He can land you at Panda- 
 can beyond the lines. They can't see that 
 shadowy thing in the dark. I knozc those men 
 mean harm to you. Oh, you must get back — 
 you must get back, and the river's the only 
 way !" 
 
 But he had sprung to his feet, and with in- 
 tense eagerness in his handsome young face 
 was listening to some far, faint, crackling 
 sound that, suddenly breaking on the night, was 
 just audible above the plash of the swift waters. 
 
 "Hark!" he whispered as she crept to his 
 side and would again have spoken. Breath- 
 less they crouched and bent their ears to the 
 sound — a low. rapid sputter, a quick, irregular 
 throbbing that seemed with every moment to 
 spread and grow louder and to come slowly 
 creeping southward, and then the silent watcher 
 in the canoe sprang noiselessly to shore, and 
 stooped at the head of the steps and whistled 
 low. Then as no answer came, trampling the 
 
164 A RIVAL ALLY. 
 
 rope underneath his feet, he clapped his hands 
 thrice and loudly in evident and irrepressible 
 excitement. Back from the shadows of the 
 mansion came the two slender forms in Fili- 
 pino uniform, springing down the pathway. 
 One moment they paused to listen at the bench. 
 Then in eager tone they gave some order to 
 the boatman. The canoe was hauled close 
 alongside. The three slid noiselessly aboard, 
 and away shot the fragile craft into the black- 
 ness of the night, down stream, just as the 
 Filipino bugles at the barracks below and on 
 the broad plaza without pealed forth the stir- 
 ring notes of the alarm. Somewhere over on 
 the east front of Manila, toward Santa Mesa 
 or the water-works, the fierce volleying had be- 
 gun, and right and left, north and south, the 
 fight was spreading along the circling lines. 
 
 Then down came MacLean, pale but com- 
 posed. "You're caught, Breese, old chap. 
 There's no getting out now. Ricarte's fellows 
 are forming for the attack, and every inch of 
 ground is covered. The best we can do is to 
 hide you somewhere in case they insist on com- 
 ing in the grounds." 
 
 "Hiding won't help, man!" was the impati- 
 
 & 
 
A RIVAL ALLY. I 6^ 
 
 ent answer. "My post is tour miles away, 
 downstream beyond tlie bridges, and it's 
 disgrace and dishonor if I can't get there. 
 Haven't you a boat — a canoe of some kind?" 
 
 "Not so much as a tub. and you couldn't slip 
 by those lynx-eyed fellows if I had." 
 
 Every instant the sound of volleying grew 
 louder, and the sputter and crackle of musketry 
 crept on down the banks of the San Juan. A 
 servant in snowy linen came rushing out in 
 search of his master, and in the Spanish tongue 
 informed him that he had closed the great iron 
 gates in front, as ordered, but that the Com- 
 mandante and other officers were there and de- 
 sired to see Sefior MacLean on most import- 
 ant business. 
 
 "Stay where you are. Breese. You're safe 
 here if anywhere. I'll have to meet these fel- 
 lows, you know. Our relations have been very 
 cordial. Perhaps I can stand them off." 
 
 He was back in five minutes. "It was Per- 
 alta. Major of the Artillery." he said. "They 
 came to warn us to get under ctjver. They 
 open with their Krupps in a few minutes, and 
 of course your fellows will answer." 
 
 ".•\nswer? They'll blow the whole shooting- 
 
1 66 A RIVAL ALLY. 
 
 matcli into the Pasig ! Dyer's battery is on the 
 knoll south of Paco, and Harry Hawthorne is 
 back of Block House 1 1 with the Hotchkiss 
 gims — all Regulars." 
 
 "Ricarte knows all about that, but he says his 
 infantry can sweep the men from the guns. 
 He can fire from three sides on Concordia 
 Bridge, and from right and front on Battery 
 Knoll. Listen!" 
 
 Far to the north the boom of a heavy gun 
 punctuated the rattle of musketry. Across the 
 Pasig at the east and north of Manila the lines 
 were sharply engaged, but as yet Pilar's Di- 
 vision faced that of Anderson's in silence. 
 Something held the insurgent leader in leash. 
 
 It came at last — well along toward morning. 
 All on a sudden the bugles rang in front of 
 Santa Ana, and with exultant cheers Ricarte's 
 big brigade blazed on the American salient at 
 Blockhouse ii. Then came the roar and crash 
 of the Krupps in the river redoubts, and then, 
 a little later, the reply. Breese. an unwilling 
 prisoner, wild with excitement, had clambered 
 to the roof, from which point the flame of the 
 battling lines could plainly be seen. The tri- 
 umphant dash of the insurgent battalions had 
 
A IM\AL ALLY. l6j 
 
 met with stern and sudden check. Only to the 
 banks of the cstcro had they charged. Beyond 
 that. Hke a wall of steel and flame, the blue line 
 stretched across tiie riccfields and never budged 
 an inch. 
 
 Fre(iuent now were the calls and demands at 
 the iron gates, for every few minutes some 
 well-known officer was borne in from the front, 
 sorely wounded and seeking the shelter of the 
 massive church or MacLean's heavy stone 
 walls. Then in squads or detachments 
 little parties of Filipinos, crouching close along 
 the walls, came drifting back from the front, 
 silent and dispirited. 
 
 And then a battalion that had lined the 
 earthworks across the open ricefields close to 
 the highway, unable longer to bear up against 
 the pitiless storm of Yankee lead, suddenly 
 broke for the shelter of the walls to the rear, 
 and came stampeding back into the plaza, 
 sweeping their shrieking, sword-brandishing 
 officers with them. They would have surged 
 into the MacLcan grounds had not the iron 
 gates been sternly barred against them. And 
 tlien there aro.sc a cry at sound of which the 
 women clung to each other in dismay and ter- 
 
1 68 A RIVAL ALLY. 
 
 ror aiul Maci.can went white with (h-ead. In 
 rage and exasperation over their baffled hopes 
 and heavy losses, the fierce Tagals clamored for 
 vengeance. Battering at the gate, they yelled 
 for the "Tcnicntc Aincricano." Some one had 
 told them Breese was still there in hiding, and 
 all the devil in the Malay nature was aroused. 
 Fiercer every moment rose the yells and im- 
 precations. Then a young officer, hoisted on 
 their shoulders, clambered to the top of the wall 
 and began a furious harangue in the Tagal 
 tongue. In the midst of it all MacLean 
 rushed aloft and found Breese just descending, 
 pale and resolute. 
 
 "Take me out to them," he calmly said. 
 "They won't murder an unarmed man, but 
 they'll burn and wreck your home otherwise. 
 Hello! Why, here's Bruce!" 
 
 Bruce it was. He came bounding up the 
 marble stairs three at a spring, and lost no 
 time in ceremony. "Come instantly," he 
 panted, laying a broad hand on the Ensign's 
 shoulder. "Your uniform and sword are in 
 my launch." 
 
 "Bob! How^ did you get here?" interjected 
 MacLean. 
 
V <^' 
 
 I'cnii-ntc Americano." 
 
A RIVAL AIJ.V. 169 
 
 "Kan it — full steam — all lights out. Quick, 
 man. come ! Those devils will rip you to pieces 
 if they catch you. It's your only chance." 
 
 Down the stairs, between them, they hurried 
 the boy. One instant he broke from them to 
 clasp Ethel in his arms and print a kiss upon 
 her forehead. She dropped, half fainting, on 
 the stairs, as between them again they rushed 
 Breese to the river bank and bundled him 
 aboard. "Cast off." said Bruce. "Good- 
 night to you, Mac. Tell Ricarte blood's 
 thicker than water and John Bull's got his pris- 
 oner, (jive me the wheel, Manuel. Now, 
 full speed, and lie flat!" 
 
 Straining eyes and ears. MacLean. hanging 
 to a ring in the stone post on the bank, gazed 
 after them and listened. The Krupps were 
 silent. Yankee gunners had proved too much 
 for Tagal cannoneers, but both hanks were 
 lined with riflemen all along the big bend to 
 PanVlacan. The sparks pouring from her fun- 
 nel plainly showed the ctmrse of the Hying boat. 
 Within a minute of her departure the rilles be- 
 gan to crack, the banks to blaze with spiteful 
 flashes. But nn went that meteor of the night, 
 on until it sud»len!y dove out of sight and into 
 
I/O A RIVAL ALLY. 
 
 safety beyond tlie dense fringe of bamboo along 
 the Concordia, and thence went careering on 
 to Manila, her tiny whistle shrieking triumph 
 and defiance as she sped on her way. 
 
 And then MacLean drew a long breath and 
 strolled out to the gates and faced the furious 
 throng. "Senor Capitan,'' said he calmly to 
 the nearest officer, "will you and your brother 
 officers come in and join me m a glass of wine? 
 There are no Americanos here to spoil our 
 pleasure." 
 
 That was last February. They call Bruce 
 Quixote at the English Club now. and "Bob" 
 aboard the whole American fleet. Jackies 
 ashore whip off their caps and grin delightedly 
 at sight of him. Naval regulations were 
 powerless to prevent the mighty, full-throated 
 hurrah that went up the evening Bruce first 
 came aboard to dine as a guest of the ward- 
 room officers. The one thing Ethel Winston 
 was said to have cried over was the beautiful 
 wedding gift he sent her last September. She 
 said it was more than enough that he should 
 have given Her a husband. 
 
'.^<) 
 
 'A moment of odd silence and constraint." 
 
THE 
 SENATOR'S PLIGHT. 
 
 The day was hot, the debate even hotter. 
 The question was on the amendment, and the 
 gentleman from Jersey had the floor. There 
 had been strikes, riots and demoHtion of rail- 
 way property. The mobs had sore smitten the 
 so-called "minions of the law." and. at last, re- 
 luctant civil officials had appealed for aid. A 
 poll of the mob would have revealed few voters 
 of any persuasion other than that of the party 
 then in power. Marshal and sheriff, mayor 
 and chief of police were to a man of the same 
 political complexion, and a stanch exponent of 
 party principles abode in the White House. 
 Yet it was they who asked and he who ordered 
 the regulars to the scene, and. now that danger 
 was at an end. it was their own associates in 
 
1/2 THE SENATORS PLIGHT. 
 
 Congress assembled whu were abusing the 
 reg^ilars for going. 
 
 The gentleman from Jersey was vehement 
 if not convincing, and while making a stirring 
 appeal against "these heartless oppressors of 
 honest labor, these liveried hirelings of soul- 
 less capitalists and corporations, the menial 
 men-at-arms of plutocracy, miscalled the Army 
 of the United States," he leveled his shafts 
 more especially at the name and reputation of 
 a man he had never seen — the officer whose 
 misfortune it was to be ordered to do his duty 
 in wdiat at the start, at least, was an unpopular 
 cause. 
 
 It must l)e admitted that the strikers had 
 been ''squeezed" by a corporation, and that 
 many of the papers and most of the people 
 thought and said no. Public sympathy had 
 been with the operatives and might have pre- 
 vailed, but for a certain impulsiveness that 
 prompted the bombarding of passengers and 
 passenger trains with brickbats, the conversion 
 of some miles of freight, freight cars and 
 houses into ashes, and the unfortunate slaying 
 of a few of the minions aforementioned. 
 
 The major commanding the 1)attalion of in- 
 
THE SENATORS PLIGHT. I 73 
 
 fantry sent to protect a mammoth manufactur- 
 ing plant was a veteran of the civil war. with 
 a riot record covering several states. He 
 reached the scene after a hot, dusty, trying 
 march, and reported, as his orders demanded, 
 to the mayor, at a moment when the uproar 
 was at its height and the lives of the officials 
 themselves were in jeopardy. In the pres- 
 ence and hearing of scores of eager newspaper 
 men. the mayor told the major to "fire blank 
 cartridges at the mob and scare them." The 
 major said blank cartridges never scare a mob 
 and he didn't bring them on such business. 
 Then said the mayor, "Fire a volley over their 
 heads." Then replied the major. "I won't. 
 That would be killing innocent spectators a 
 mile away and sparing scoundrels who richly 
 deserve it. Don't tell me these are working 
 men, — that gang. They are toughs and thugs 
 from half a dozen cities. They stoned us all 
 the way frc>m the station. Now, Mr. Mayor, 
 if you want these- yards cleared say so and 
 leave the method to me." 
 
 Instantly a dozen listeners slipped away, and 
 in a niDment more were mingling with the mob. 
 "It's all up. lx>ysl" "Slide, fellers. These 
 
174 THE SENATORS PLIGHT. 
 
 ain't no tin soldiers." "Look out, the regulars 
 will shoot!*' were the words passed from 
 mouth, from man to man, and when the silent, 
 sturdy column in blue and drab, covered with 
 dust and sweat, swung sharp and sudden into 
 line to the left, and the shod musket butts came 
 down with simultaneous thud, and, three hun- 
 dred strong, the little battalion faced the jeer- 
 ing, yelling, taunting, cursing thousands, the 
 ring-leaders dove into the depths and sneaked 
 out of harm's way. Dusty and tired, stern 
 and silent, with dripping brows, the regulars 
 stood and glowered straight into the faces of 
 their howling fellow citizens, the mob. Little 
 by little the uproar hushed. Officers and men 
 those regulars looked so hot, yet were so aw- 
 fully, preternaturally cool. 
 
 "The jig is up," said the "labor leaders". 
 The strike had failed, and then began the news- 
 paper abuse of the troops at the scene, especi- 
 ■ ally the major in command, concerning whom 
 there were journals that exhausted their stock 
 of calumny and vituperation. There are times 
 when truth is indeed crushed to earth and the 
 soldier finds neither friends nor mercy. 
 
 Among the constituents of the Hon. Mr. 
 
THE senator's PLIGHT. 1/5 
 
 Lansing were hundreds of the operatives of 
 the great foundries and the railways. He and 
 his party had lost caste among them because 
 of the coming of troops to stop the riot and 
 spoil the combination. Another election was 
 due in November and something had to-^be 
 done to restore his lost prestige. Here was 
 the gentleman's chance and he took it. After 
 scathing denunciation of capitalists in general, 
 and the great moguls of the railway in par- 
 ticular, he turned to the Army as the unscru- 
 pulous tool of the tyrant Gold, and with the 
 highly colored stories of the local papers as 
 his sole authority, drew a picture of the bloody- 
 minded ruffian in command of the regulars 
 that fateful day. "A being," he said, "be- 
 sotted with rum." (Two papers did say the 
 major was drunk, though he hadn't had a 
 drink in a month) "bloated beyond all semb- 
 lance of honest manhood," (the major did look 
 red in the face) "bereft of the last vestige of 
 what we understand by the term 'officer and 
 gfcntleman', — bereft of honor, decency and hu- 
 manity, a creature to be shunned nf honest 
 men and scorned by Christian women. Sir, 
 mav mv hand shrivel to the Ixme. mv tongue 
 
176 THK SEXATOk's PLIGHT. 
 
 rot to its roots ere ever 1 write the line or say 
 the word that shall even inferentially support 
 such utter misuse of the national arms, or sus- 
 tain an official who, disdaining the counsels 
 of the civil authority, dared with bullying 
 word and brutal emphasis to threaten the lives 
 of honest and indignant laboring men, clamor- 
 ing only for justice — an officer who has dis- 
 graced the uniform of the United States and 
 dishonored that sacred emblem." And here 
 in thrilling peroration the gentleman apostro- 
 phized the striped and starry folds festooned 
 above the head of the speaker pro tern and 
 took his seat amidst a ripple of speedily sub- 
 dued applause in the galleries, a yawn and 
 rustle of papers about the house, and then, a 
 motion to adjourn. Laughing and chatting 
 the members came clattering down the marble 
 corridors; correspondents W'Cnt rushing pell- 
 mell with their ''copy" ; and the chairman of 
 the committee on Public Moods and Morals, 
 accosting Mr. Lansing, who was chaffing the 
 champion of the bill, gravely said : 
 
 "Lansing, did you happen to notice a mighty 
 pretty little girl that left the gallery just as 
 
THE SENATORS PLIGHT. I77 
 
 you finished, with a gray-haired, fine-looking 
 man of fifty?" 
 
 "I saw the giri. Jefifers, — iH(hi"t happen to 
 notice the man. Why?" 
 
 "Oh. nothing much," answered Jefifers, with 
 a wliimsical grimmace. "she happens to be 
 from my home, and the man is her father — 
 Major Harold, of the Army, the gentleman 
 who has 'disgraced the uniform and dishon- 
 ored the sacred emblem' — over the speaker's 
 desk. Thought maybe you'd like to meet 
 them." 
 
 Xow. Lansing liked Jeffers. They both 
 liked the chairman of the committee on mili- 
 tary affairs, who knew beforehand just what 
 Lansing would probably say. and just what it 
 would all amount to. In the language of the 
 day, if not of the House, the gentleman from 
 Jersey was only "talking through his hat." He 
 knew perfectly well the bill would pass. He 
 wouldn't stop it if he could. It was just what 
 the country needed — only some of his consti- 
 tuents couldn't see it. All that tirade was for 
 their benefit — or blinding, and there wasn't a 
 man on the floor of the House that didn't 
 know it. Manv of them, in one wav or an- 
 
i;-8 Tin-: senator's plight. 
 
 nther, niigiit have to dn the same thing-. That 
 speech, .together with three or four tremend- 
 ous tirades delivered at home made him soHd 
 again with the electors of the Twentieth Dis- 
 trict and in the fullness of time the Hon. Mr. 
 i.ansing had forgotten the whole affair. 
 
 But not so the major. 
 
 When a man has fought through such a 
 war as that of the great Rehellion. and won 
 the enthusiastic praise of soldiers such as Sher- 
 man. Sheridan and Thomas, as had the major 
 before he was twenty-three; when a man has 
 twice been nipped by Southern lead and has 
 followed u]) these trifles with years of tireless, 
 ])atient and at times heroic service on the In- 
 dian frontier — he has some right to think he 
 deserves well of his country, and even of his 
 country's Congress. A tiptop soldier was 
 Harold withal — modest, gentle and courteous 
 to a fault among his kind, almost idolized by 
 liis men and entirely idolized by his family — 
 ([uite a model husband and father in fact. 
 J*rou(l of his profession, and sensitive, he was 
 a man who would go to the ends of the world 
 to undo a wrong, and did we but still live un- 
 der the code that held a gentleman responsible 
 
THE SKXATOR S iMJi;HT. I 79 
 
 fur his words, would lia\e ^oiie almost as tar 
 to redress one. Scrupulous to a fault, it \va^> 
 told of him that he had once ridden all the way 
 from Cheyenne to the Chugwater to apologize 
 to a hin- lieutenant of cavalry on learning that 
 it was the lad's captain and noi the lad that 
 was responsihle for an affair that had called 
 down his reprimand upon the boy's bewildered 
 liead. The soul of honor and justice, he was 
 hke Thackeray's noble old Newcome, intoler- 
 ant of falsehood in any form, and furious if 
 anyone took a liberty with him. 
 
 \'isiting Washington for the first time since 
 the sixties, bringing a beloved daughter to see 
 her mother's kindred a year after that beloved 
 mother's death, he had taken his child to hear 
 the debate on the Army Bill, with the result 
 described. That evening they were to have 
 dined informally at the Jeft'ers's. Init when that 
 honorable gentleman reached h- inic there was 
 a note by special messenger, regretting — They 
 had decided to leave Washington that night. 
 
 Jeffers saw the trouble in a moment: drove 
 si>eedily to the Shorehan and >ent up his card. 
 In the hallway he met I'oster. lieutenant 
 colonel in the a<ljutant general's department. 
 
l80 THE senator's PLIGHT. 
 
 a man he well knew. '"What's wrong with 
 Harold?" asked the member from Michigan. 
 
 "All broke up," said the War Department 
 official. "Fve been trying to make him un- 
 derstand it, but — it's no use. Lucky for 
 Lansing these are not the days of Jefferson and 
 Jackson he loves to tell about. It would be a 
 case of Bladensburg at sunrise or universal 
 contempt for him before sunset." 
 
 "Oh, pshaw, Foster! You know well enough 
 
 Lansing didn't mean a word of it ! He's 
 
 one of the best fellows in the world — when you 
 come to know him." 
 
 "Oh, of course, I know. but. you see, Har- 
 old has spent his whole life in the line, where 
 men say what they mean, not here where they 
 — don't. Harold thinks he's disgraced, — dis- 
 honored in the eyes of the whole nation, in- 
 stead of being supported for doing his duty 
 like a man and a soldier. Why, every paper 
 in the land will have it in the morning. As 
 for that little girl, she'd be crying her eyes 
 out, only she's doing her best to comfort him. 
 Go in and do what you can — I'm useless." 
 And the colonel turned away with a shrug. 
 
 "Oh, come back, Foster," cried Jeffers, with 
 
THE senator's PLICIIT. i8[ 
 
 a grab at his arm. "I've got to square the 
 old chap someliow, and y(^u can help — You're 
 a soldier and I'm not. Why, Lansing's one 
 of the best friends I've got in the House, out- 
 side of politics. We're always sailing into 
 each other on the floor, of course, but if I 
 wanted anything for Harold next minute, he'd 
 canvass the whole capitol for mc. W hy, next 
 time he sees Harold he'll tell him so — tell him 
 he knows he's just one of the best soldiers and 
 squarest men in the whole service. You see 
 if he don't." 
 
 " — And mean it just as much as what he 
 said to-day, I presume," answered the colonel, 
 dryly. "That may comfort Harold a lot — I 
 do)i't think. You go in — I'll wait." 
 
 It was something Jeffers never forgot — the 
 picture of his old friend as he entered the 
 room. Harold was pacing the floor, his 
 twitching hands behind his back, his deep-set 
 eyes glowing, his thin, weather-beaten, sol- 
 dierly face quivering with wrath and sense of 
 wrong, and in spite of the. tan of years in sun 
 and wind, gray almost as the gray mou.>tache 
 and hair. He whirled on Jeffers. with chal- 
 lenge in his eye and V(^ice like a sentry guard- 
 
iSj THE senator's im.ight. 
 
 ing an imperiled post. Morence. a tall slip of 
 a girl, just fifteen, was standing at the table at 
 Jcffcrs's entrance, and stejiped (juickly to her 
 father's side, her fond eyes full of love and 
 trust and trouble. Harold turned and kissed 
 her w ith trembling lips. "Run into your own 
 room a moment, little daughter." he mur- 
 mured. "1 must speak with Mr. Jeffers." 
 She obeyed silently, for such was her habit, 
 l)ut with infinite reluctance. Then Harold 
 turned on his friend. 
 
 "Of course you heard — " 
 
 "Of course I couldn't help hearing, Harold, 
 old chap, and of course I saw Lansing at once. 
 Whv, you never saw a man so cut up! He 
 wouldn't have said it for the world if he'd 
 known you were there. He don't mean it! 
 Lord love you, Harold ! Why we — we say 
 ail sorts of things of each other, just that way. 
 It's all for — for — " 
 
 Well, just what it was all for according to 
 Jeffers remained unsaid. The passion of wrath 
 in the soldier's face amazed him. "Don't go 
 away feeling like that, Harold." he stammered. 
 "Just hold on a day or two — till this thing sort 
 — sort o' blows over, and — vou mark what T 
 
THE SKNATOR's I'LIGHT. I 83 
 
 say — Lansing will come t«> you niorc'n halt 
 way. and if ever you want a Idessed thing here 
 in Washington, why. that man will just see 
 that you get it. and he can do it — he as much 
 as told me he would. He told me — " 
 
 "Told you, did he? And you — whom I 
 have kncjwn since we were lK)ys — come to me 
 with such a message!" And the very table 
 on which he leaned shook with the violence of 
 the veteran's enK»tion. Up went the hand to 
 the length of his arm. as Harold (juivered to 
 his full height — he wasn't \ery big — 
 
 'A'ou say to him for me, that 1 say he's one 
 <)f the two-faced curs I've been taught all my 
 life to despise, and he's a man — no, God for- 
 Ijid 1 shiiuld insult the rest of our kind by call- 
 ing him line — that he's one of those sneaking 
 cads who would come privately to a man and 
 declare his friendship even while he is iloing 
 everything in his power, secretly and publicly 
 to (kunn him. \'(*u say to him that he may 
 thank Goil a gentleman has no longer a way to 
 wring apology from a blackguard, and that be- 
 fore I would be indebted to him for any favor, 
 big or little, here or hereafter. I'd (|uit the 
 army in disgust, and if ever he dare (^tifer me 
 
184 THE senator's plight. 
 
 his help or his hand, he'll get mine — clinched 
 — full in his cowardly face!" 
 
 Two hours later the major left Washington 
 and from that day to this has never cared to 
 see it again. 
 
 Four years later, there or thereabouts, at 
 the head of a gallant regiment, a keen-eyed, 
 white-moustached colonel landed on the Cuban 
 coast, and w'ith the flag he w'as alleged to have 
 dishonored high waving in his sinewy hand, 
 led the charge on a fire-spitting ridge and 
 planted the colors on the Spanish works. The 
 shoulderstrap, torn away by one Mauser bul- 
 let (while a second bored through the arm be- 
 neath), was speedily replaced by another, the 
 silver leaf by a silver star. Older, grayer as 
 to face and whiter as to hair. Harold was to 
 the full the same highstrung. heroic soldier, 
 l3rimming with energy, pluck and purpose. 
 Life had been sore indeed for long months 
 after that Washington episode. His morning 
 mail, just as for \veeks after the riot, had been 
 filled with marked copies of certain papers and 
 witli many a letter of abuse. These had gone 
 into the wastebasket. but the speech of the 
 Honorable Mr. Lansing, the new Champion of 
 
TilE SEXATOR's plight. I 85 
 
 Labor, so-called, had entered like seething lire 
 into his soul. Jeffers. of course, had never 
 delivered that message. The War Depart- 
 ment had declined to listen to the Major's plea 
 for a court of inquiry, because, as said the 
 Honorable Secretary of War, Major Herold's 
 conduct on the occasion referred to had re- 
 ceived the highest commendation of his supe- 
 riors, and he needed no other vindication. 
 
 "An officer cannot seek redress for words 
 uttered in debate." said the adjutant general, 
 a warm personal friend. In fact there was 
 nothing, — there is nothing for the soldier, 
 wronged either by the politician or the public 
 press but silent sufferance. 
 
 Harold had buried himself in the duties of 
 his profession in the far West, whither his 
 promotion to the lieutenant colonelcy took him 
 within a month of that memorable visit, and 
 officers and men who loved and honored him 
 lieard no further mention of the matter from 
 his lips. It was something of which he simply 
 could not speak. Florence in the course of 
 tour years came back to him from school, "for 
 good," as she happily said, and young fellov.s 
 
i86 Tin-: skxatok's plight. 
 
 in tlic rcj^imcnt were lnoking and wooing all 
 in vain when the Spanish war broke ont. 
 
 Three months sufficed to mend him of his 
 Santiago wound, and then, leaving his beloved 
 daughter with army friends at the Presidio, 
 Harold, now a brigadier-general, with two gal- 
 lant boys in the line, one a subaltern in his 
 own brigade, took the field in front of Manila, 
 and entered into the thick of the stirring cam- 
 paign of '99 to win new laurels in Luzon. 
 
 One l)listering morning in May when the 
 rails of the Dagupan road seemed ready to 
 curl in the scorching sunshine, MacArthur's 
 stanch division was deployed for attack, w'hile 
 on the far right llank a picked regiment was 
 sent in to find the insurgent left and double 
 it. With these, wading a muddy stream, 
 waist deep, went the brigadier, and then, some- 
 where in the thickets and close to the railway, 
 the ad\-ance ran slap upon a concealed force, 
 with a stifif little blockhouse at the edge of the 
 timber. 
 
 The fierce volley that greeted them in the 
 sharp staccato of the ^lausers would have 
 been more than .sufficient to drive untried men 
 to instant cover, and Harold for just a mo- 
 
TiiK senator's pi.ic.h r. 187 
 
 ineiit felt a thrill of anxiety as to the result. 
 S])iirrini|^ eagerly forward, iir^in^^ on the sup- 
 ports, he burst through the intervening tangle 
 of brush and bypath and out upon the open 
 fieUi. more than half expecting to find his skir- 
 mishers flattened in the nnid like hunted scfwir- 
 rcls, or skimming back for cover. This in 
 full view of half the division on the southern 
 bank would never do in the world. One quick 
 glance over the fiat, rain-soaked, abandoned 
 ricefield sent the blood leaping through his 
 \eins, and soldier joy and delight to his flash- 
 ing eyes. Recoiling? X^ot a bit of it ! With 
 instant cheer the line had answered the chal- 
 lenge, and, thongh half a dozen lads lay 
 stretched among the dikes, following the lead 
 of a lithe young officer, conspicuous in his trim 
 •^uit of khaki, the rushing rank of blue shirts 
 had dashed straight for the opix)site timber 
 and centered on the blockhouse. 
 
 Bring up the sup])orts, (|uick now!" shouted 
 the general to an aide-de-camp. "Come on, 
 everybody!" and with one staff officer and a 
 brace of orderlies at liis back ajid the swift on- 
 ct^ming dash of tlie deploying scjuads bursting 
 through the brake behind him, aw ay he spurred 
 
1 88 Tiin senator's plight. 
 
 toward the ])oint of the timher where the Fili- 
 pino c(>lors were floating" over tlie lire-spitting 
 tower, and was up among the very leaders as 
 his men drove in with gleaming bayonets, 
 straight to the teeth of the foe. Risky work 
 that, dare-devil work, hut work that carried 
 terror and conviction with it. "What manner 
 of men are these." said Tagal prisoners, 
 "wdiom shooting cannot stop? When we fire 
 at the Spaniards they lie down. When we 
 shoot at Americanos you jump up and run at 
 us. It is not fair." ''What queer notions of the 
 combat have these Yankees, whose colonels 
 leave their regiments behind them and ride up 
 into our trenches and shoot us with pistols, as 
 does this Senor Coronel Bell, or swim rivers 
 naked or crawl bridge timbers on his belly as 
 does this Coronel Chiquito — Funston ! It is 
 not the practice of the grandee — the Castilian. 
 What means it that a General should come 
 charging trenches with a squad of skirmish- 
 ers? It is beneath the digTiity of such high 
 of^ce," saith the Spanish taught native. But 
 it is woefully demoralizing to the little brown 
 men. 
 
 With barelv a bakers' dozen from the right 
 
THE senator's PLIGHT. 189 
 
 of the line, that tall young lieutenant uf regu- 
 lars has darted into the block-house and 
 pistoled the foremost defenders, while the 
 others, amazed and overawed, drop their guns 
 and crouch to the floor. Down comes the ban- 
 ner of the blazing sun and up goes a cheer for 
 the General riding joyously over to say a word 
 of praise to the gallant fellow, who, now that 
 his work is done, stands panting at the door- 
 way, one hand pressed to his side, and dumbly 
 asks an anxious-eyed sergeant for water. A 
 faint flush rises one instant to his paling cheek, 
 as he hears the voice uf the brigade com- 
 mander : — 
 
 "Magnificently done, sir!'" Then, with in- 
 stant concern — "Why, my lad, you're hit." 
 
 A half smile, a nod as the brown gauntlet 
 reaches the brim of the campaign hat in effort 
 to salute. Then hat and head drop together, 
 the knees give way, and the brave boy is 
 caught by strong, supporting arms and low- 
 ered senseless to the ground. The General is 
 off his pony in a second. The reserves are 
 rushing by in pursuit of the scattering foe. 
 "Call Dr. Forney here," he cries, as he kneels 
 an instant at the side of the stricken officer. 
 
190 Tin-: SKXATOR S PLICHT. 
 
 '■There's nothing on earth too good for this 
 lad. W'hii is he. (iray?" and lie glances up at 
 his adjutant general. A queer look comes in- 
 to the captain's face, and a half falter marks 
 the answering words : 
 
 "Mr. Lansing, sir. — th Infantry." 
 
 :*; :■; ^ ;•: :^; :!: ^; ^ ^ :^c ^ 
 
 There is a brilliant scene a few months later 
 in one of the great lake cities. A social crush 
 has resulted from the visit of a sailor hero of 
 the nation, and fair women and brave men 
 have thronged to greet him. Glad and cor- 
 dial as is his manner to all, the Admiral has 
 hailed Avith especial joy a thin-faced, soldierly 
 looking \eteran whose snowy hair and white 
 moustache are in as marked contrast with the 
 tan of his complexion as is his simple evening- 
 dress with the glittering uniforms about him. 
 
 But even the button of the Loyal Legion at 
 his lapel is not needed to stamp him as a sol- 
 dier. 1^) many men and women his name 
 and fame are well known, and many a word 
 of welcome has greeted him and the beautiful 
 girl who clings so proudly, yet almost protect- 
 ingly. at his side, for serious illness has fol- 
 lowed on the heels of a severe campaign under 
 
THE senator's PLIGHT. I9I 
 
 tropic skies, and the General so warmly hailed 
 by the <;uest oi honor is bnt slowly recuperat- 
 ing in his native land. Ouite a crowd sur- 
 roumls them both and the little group of fair 
 women who arc "receiving'", when, toward 
 eie\en o'clock, in the procession of arrivals, 
 there appears a tall, distinguished looking man 
 lor whom the floor committee seem anxious to 
 clear the pathway — a personage whom, a mo- 
 ment later, the Admiral spies and steps fi)r- 
 ward in hearty sailor fashion to greet. 
 
 •'Why. Senator." he cries. "This is glori- 
 ous! I had no idea you were here!" 
 
 "Admiral." responds the new comer, in the 
 resonant tones of one to whom i)ublic speak- 
 ing is an every day affair. "1 am here because 
 yuit are here. 1 heard, sir. of this reception 
 in vour honor, as 1 was on my way to a con- 
 ference in Chicago, and I stopped over pur- 
 posely to join in the demonstration in your 
 honor." anil as he shakes the Admiral's hand 
 the senator glances benignly round about him 
 that all these his fellow citizens of a Western 
 metropolis may view the lineaments and realize 
 the presence of a statesman from the .Atlantic 
 seaboard. 
 
igZ THE SENATOR S PLIGHT. 
 
 "So good of you ; so very good !" responds 
 the sailor, to whom all countrymen seem as 
 friends. "By Jove! I'm glad you're here. I 
 want you to meet one of the men who made 
 history in Luzon. General! General!" he 
 cries, summoning his soldier comrade from 
 the midst of a bevy of purring, sympathetic 
 folk, "General, 1 want you to know one of my 
 particular friends. Senator Lansing — General 
 Harold." 
 
 "General Harold," says the statesman, in 
 prompt, full voweled words that tell on every 
 ear, "This is indeed a delightful surprise. I 
 rejoice in this opportunity, sir, of meeting a 
 soldier whose career we have all watched with 
 such pride, and especially, sir, do I desire to 
 thank yon thus publicly for your tribute to my 
 son — a brave boy, sir, though I do say it, as 
 indeed you have, so handsomely — and that 
 boy, sir, well-nigh worships you." 
 
 There is instant murmur and ripple of ap- 
 plause in the surrounding throng. Then, a 
 moment of odd silence and constraint. The 
 cordially extended hand remains extended yet 
 unclasped. The thin face of the accosted Gen- 
 eral has ffone well-nigh as white as his thick 
 
THE SENATOR S PLIGHT. I93 
 
 moustache. His steely, deep-set eyes are gaz- 
 ing straight into the broad, beaming features 
 of the magnilo(iuent statesman, but every mus- 
 cle for an instant seems to be twitching as 
 fruni some strange, uncontrollable emotion. 
 The thin, white fingers are working convul- 
 sively. The deep chest rises and falls. With 
 a half smothered word of alarm, a tall, lovely 
 girl has sprung to his side and placed a hand 
 on the father's arm. At which, as though 
 conquering some physical [lain only by intense 
 effort of will, the General takes the out- 
 stretched hand one instant in a cold, nervous 
 clasp, then drops it. and coldly, almost inaud- 
 ibly. he replies : — 
 
 •'Good evening, sir. Yes; Lieutenant Lans- 
 ing is a most gallant officer. Now. excuse me. 
 Florence — oh. yes, you're here." Then he 
 bows. and. with her hand on his arm, turns 
 abruptly away. 
 
 "The General still suffers from his wound," 
 savs the .\dmiral evidently disturbed. 
 
 "His wound — yes — I see." says the Senator 
 reflectively rubbing his chin. 
 
 And as the diplomats say. for the time being 
 the incident is closed. 
 
194 'I'm^ SHXATOR S I'LICllT. 
 
 But. before taking train on tlie morrow, the 
 Senatt)r receives a letter in a hand he never saw 
 before, yet knows at a glance. On the table 
 lies another letter just received from his gallant 
 boy. once again, after a few months' leave un- 
 der surgeon's certificate, under orders to join 
 his regiment in the I'hilippines. This letter 
 ran : 
 
 "Dear Old Dai:) — Yours to the mater came 
 last night. Lakewood has done her a power 
 of good and I'm sound as ever in lung and 
 limb, but I've lost one thing that she found 
 out four weeks ago and you've got to be told 
 of now. You know I was laid up at the Pre- 
 sidio a month before they would let me come 
 on East. You kncnv how kind the army wo- 
 men were to yoiu" banged-up son. You kno^v 
 what I think of old Blue Blood, my hero Gen- 
 eral — God bless him for the bravest, squarest. 
 truest, tenderest-hearted old soldier that ever 
 fought. You don't know how surprised and 
 how lucky T was to find among the girls at the 
 Presidio a certain Miss Florence Harold, for 
 he never spoke of her to me, e\'en when he 
 came to say good-ln^e and good luck. But 
 she's home now. and he — and 1 want vou to 
 
THE senator's PLIGHT. I95 
 
 see him on your Westward run. meet him, 
 know him and — lielp me all you know how. 
 tor. Dad. with all my soul I love his daughter. 
 Vtuirs ever affectionately. 
 
 "Richard K. Lansing." 
 
 And now. full of thought over this letter 
 from his only son. the senator turns ruefully 
 to the other, which he feels must be from the 
 "squarest, truest, tenderest-hearted old." etc., 
 etc. He knew it before he had seen more than 
 the mere superscription. 
 
 "Sir : 
 
 Five years ago this month you did me the 
 honor on the floor of the House to publicly 
 proclaim me a disgrace to my cloth — a crea- 
 ture to be shunned of honest men and scorned 
 by Christian wc^nen. and a l)eing bereft of the 
 last vestige of what is understood by the term 
 officer and gentleman. 
 
 "Last night in a crowded assemblage, with 
 fuls<jme words, you almost as publicly tendered 
 vour hand. It would have served you right 
 had I then and there refused ii, but the man 
 you had so wronged and outraged was at least 
 too much of a gentleman to permit himself to 
 
196 THE senator's PLIGHT. 
 
 luimiliale you at such a time and in such a 
 
 presence. 
 
 "This is to notify you, however, that your 
 
 affrontery will never again be overlooked. 
 
 Under no circumstances will I recognize or 
 
 receive you again. 
 
 Thomas Harold." 
 
 "Good Lord!" says Lansing; "I'd almost 
 forgotten it entirely, and now my boy's life 
 and happiness are bound up in this man's 
 daughter." 
 
 And so, a month later, when gallant Dick 
 Lansing goes back to Manila it is with a sorely 
 wounded heart and Florence Harold's "No". 
 This, too, when he had good grounds for 
 buoyant hope. 
 
 The winter is gone, the spring has come. 
 May with sunshine and blossoms and balmy 
 breezes brings new life to the veins of the vet- 
 eran soldier, now honorably retired from ac- 
 tive service, yet living his soldier life again in 
 the glowing letters of his boys, both now 
 fighting in the far Philippines. He could be 
 happy as he is proud, but for one thing. 
 While health and strength have returned 
 
THE senator's PLIGHT. I97 
 
 to him and honors have come to his 
 soldier sons, he has seen, with growing dis- 
 tress, that, brave and bright as she ever seemed 
 in the long hours of the restful days they spent 
 together in the South, his precious child has 
 been visibly drooping. Twice he has sur- 
 prised her in tears. 
 
 Between them before he left Detroit there 
 had been one memorable talk upon the sub- 
 ject on which for at least four years, and even 
 to her. his lips has been sealed. That hapless 
 meeting with his defamer had rekindled all 
 the old wrath, reopened the old galling 
 w^ounds, and her fond caresses could not banish 
 either. All that night he had paced the floor. 
 He could not sleep. All the love and loyalty 
 and devotion in her fond, pure heart went out 
 to him in sympathy and support, even though 
 she, too. was thinking of a never-to-be-forgot- 
 ten night — an August evening at the Golden 
 Gate — the last evening Dick Lansing spent at 
 San Francisco before his start for home. There 
 had been frank, full avowal on his part. There 
 had been no promise on hers, for she knew 
 her father if not his. and while she could not 
 — would not — tell him <>f the painful episode 
 
198 THE SEXATOKS PLIGHT. 
 
 that might still hear so lieavily upon their 
 hopes — she well knew her very manner had 
 given him cause to hope — and that her cold, 
 constrained letter, written at her father's bed- 
 side during the relapse that followed his meet- 
 ing with the senator, must have cut him to the 
 t|uick and made him think her heartless. But 
 here, with this wronged, wifeless old soldier 
 lay her duty now, and no earthly consideration 
 should take her from him. 
 
 But oh. the pity of it ! 
 
 A brilliant May day was ushered in. the an- 
 niversary of the blistering morning of the 
 Santa Rita, and with her slender hand in his, 
 the general sat blinking out over the sparkling 
 waters of the Tappan Zee, as the day boat 
 bore them up the Hudson, bound for a brief 
 visit to his beloved shrine, the Point. A 
 young ofHcer of the corps of instructors at the 
 Academy, recognizing him. had found chairs 
 for both upon the crowded deck, and then witb 
 deep intuition for one of his years, had left 
 them to each other, for here was a clear case, 
 said he, of "Dad and Daughter Spoons." But 
 the beauty of that girl's face was a thing that 
 drew many a glance from his appreciative 
 
THE SENATOR S PLIGHT. I99 
 
 eye>. and ott Croton Point he ventured to ac- 
 cost them, newspaper in hand, sympathetic in- 
 terest in his young face. 
 
 "Hard luck your old friends t.)f the — th 
 liad yesterday. General ! They were with you 
 last year, as I remember." 
 
 "Hard luck! How? 1 hadn't seen or 
 heard." and with an.xious eyes the <»ld .soldier 
 turned upon the subaltern. 
 
 "Up against too big a gang in thick bam- 
 boo." was the answer. "Quite a number 
 killed an<l wounded — and they've finished poor 
 Dick Lansing this time." 
 
 "O my God!" cried Harold. But warn- 
 ing came tO(i late. Florence was hanging 
 limp and senseless over the arm of the chair. 
 
 I^jur weeks later, when the Hancock 
 steamed away for Manila, among the names re- 
 corded on her limited passenger list were tho.se 
 (.f General Harold, U. S. A., and daughter. 
 The full story of that stiff brush in the jungle 
 had l)een long in coming. Swamp and thicket 
 had delayed what was to have been a simulta- 
 neous tknk attack, and the dash of the direct 
 assault was met by withering fire fr'>m in- 
 
200 THE SENATOR S PLIGHT. 
 
 visible foes. They did their best, poor lads, 
 but were driven back with cruel loss, leaving 
 their gallant leader and perhaps half a dozen 
 other wounded in the hands of the Tagals. 
 Instantly another and stronger column was 
 rushed out to repair the loss, and after long- 
 pursuit and almost incredible exertion, they re- 
 captured the prisoners, with Lansing still alive, 
 but very low. On the heels of this news came 
 the report that Lieutenant Ben Harold was 
 down with typhoid, and a white faced veteran 
 wired from West Point for permission to take 
 the first transport, and before Florence was 
 well enough to start on so long a journey a 
 card was brought to the shaded room wherein 
 she lay, and Harold's voice trembled as he 
 said, 'T will see him — here." 
 
 They showed him in, and for a moment the 
 new comer's eyes were baffled by the dark- 
 ness. He stepped at once, however, to the sol- 
 dier who had silently risen. No hand was 
 extended. Lansing stood and bowed his 
 head. 
 
 "I have come,'" said he. ''to say that which 
 I should have said years ago. I wronged you 
 utterly. For the sake of this dear girl, for 
 
THE SENATOR S PLIGHT. 20I 
 
 the sake of — my dying boy — my all — can't y<m 
 forgive a broken-hearted man?' 
 
 ♦ ::^ ******** * 
 
 There have been some rapturous meetings 
 on shipboard oft' the mouth of that grass- 
 green, flooding Passig, but this — this- was 
 something which a veteran mariner, long used 
 to the language of the bridge and the fo'cs'le, 
 declared '"just blew me oft' soundings." From 
 the day they left the Farallones to that of 
 casting anchor off Manila, a full moon later, 
 no word as to loved ones lingering between 
 life and death had reached them. But an aid 
 of the commanding general came scrambling 
 abixard with glad tidings for Harold before 
 the chains ceased clanging through the hawse 
 pipes. His soldier l)oy was rapidly convalesc- 
 ing at the Second Reserve, and, as for Dick ! 
 
 There is a pretty room well forward on the 
 Hancock, opening into the captain's sanctum 
 on the ujjper deck. In old days when, as an 
 Atlantic greylvanid, she bore the record and 
 butted icebergs between Sandy Hook and 
 Oueenstown Lights, they called it the Ladies 
 B<'U<li'ir. In 'oS they refitted it fur the coni- 
 mantling (»}"iicor of the troops ab(»ard. A p( r- 
 
202 THE SKNATUR S PLIGHT. 
 
 tiere hanging iron^ :? l)razen rod at the en- 
 trance, swung loosely in the breeze, and be- 
 liind that ]iendant screen this gorgeous summer 
 evening, just as the sun was dipping behind 
 the grim barrier of the westward mountains, 
 a bluff old skipper was taking a parting sip of 
 champagne with the glad-eyed soldier for 
 whose convenience the white launch of the 
 C(jmmanding general was already cleaving a 
 way through the sparkling waters. With 
 them, in cool white raiment, a fragile hand 
 upon her sturdy father's arm, stood the fair 
 girl whose devotion to that anxious veteran, 
 despite her own deep dread, had won the hon- 
 est sailor's enthusiastic admiration to the full 
 as much as had her delicate beauty. With 
 raised glass he was talking to the General and 
 looking at her when suddenly, in the midst of 
 the joyous chatter on deck there was heard 
 the unaccustomed sound of a crutch and a hail 
 of welcome to some unseen "Dick" ; whereat 
 Miss Harold seemed suddenly to lose all color 
 — all breath, all sense of what her nautical ad- 
 mirer was saving; and when, an instant later, 
 there came a tap at the open door and a thin 
 white hand at the curtain's edge, the lady as 
 
THE SENATOR S PLIGHT. 203 
 
 suddenly spun about, with a lialf stifled, yet 
 intense cry of joy intolerable, dropped her 
 fatlier's arm and was caught and clasped by 
 two others that held her close — closer still in 
 spite of falling crutch and failing leg. 
 
 Then inarticulate wonls and sobs and — 
 other sounds that were never adequately de- 
 scribed and never can be really imitated — 
 warned the wondering mariner that a listener 
 was lost, though a cause was won. One in- 
 stant he gazed in semi-stupefaction, then drew 
 the General forward into his own little den. and 
 another curtain fell upon the scene. 
 

 Ol> 
 
 
 ' / 
 
 /'I 
 
 " Pertnit iiK- ti) restore missing property." 
 
THE LUCK OF THE 
 HORSESHOE. 
 
 The Limited had stopped just long enough 
 to change engines. Mr. Warren, the occu- 
 pant of compartment Xumber Three, had 
 stepped out to stretcli his legs and was inter- 
 ested to see a very pretty girl board his car, 
 followed by a youth burdened with a military 
 overcoat and her hand luggage. Mr. War- 
 ren's legs were long and the stop was short. 
 In three minutes more the train was wdiistling 
 through the suburbs and speeding away into 
 the night. The mountains were just ahead, 
 the dining car just behind. Warren stepped 
 therein one moment, found every table occu- 
 pied and decided to wait for the pretty girl. 
 Most of his fellow passengers of the palatial 
 Sublima were gone, presumably to dinner, 
 when he strolled back to his seat. Two — three 
 compartments that had been inhabited as he 
 went out were now vacant as he came in. but 
 
206 THE LUCK OF THE HORSESHOE. 
 
 his own that was vacant when he left it. was 
 now inhabited. The door was closed, yet not 
 until just as he neared it — closed obviously at 
 the moment of, and possibly because of, his 
 coming. He caught a glimpse of a slender, 
 daintily gloved hand, the hand of a girl. What 
 on earth was it doing there? 
 
 To be insured aganist error he glanced up 
 at the number on the glistening little plate 
 above the door. Three beyond all shadow of 
 doubt. He ventured to turn the knob and the 
 door was bolted wathin. Then he sought the 
 porter who for his part had sought a friend in 
 the Alberta just ahead, and the porter was 
 puzzled. 
 
 "/ ain't ])ut any lady in there, sir," said he. 
 "The young lady that just got aboard at 
 'Toona she belongs in the drawingroom. But 
 I'll go and see if you like, sir." 
 
 Thev went together and Number Three's 
 door was wide open. Number Three was 
 empty. Everything was as he left it, yet he 
 could have sworn to the facts above stated. 
 Then he sauntered back to steal a peep, if pos- 
 sible, at the hand of the young lady who be- 
 longed in the drawingroom and got it. despite 
 
THE LUCK OF THF. HORSESHOE. 20J 
 
 the fact that its door seemed closed as he 
 neared it. This time it opened — opened ohvi- 
 ously at the nioment and possibly because of 
 his coniins;: — and a slender, daintily-gloved 
 hand, the hand of a girl, beckoned to him, and 
 a silvery voice said. "Xed. come here. f|uick !" 
 And Xed being his name and action his nature 
 he obeved. entered and found a pretty form, 
 back toward him now. bending over a handbag. 
 "Where on earth." said the silvery voice, 
 "did V. lu put my portemonnaie?" And all 
 manner of trifles but the purse came dying 
 out up(Mi the seat. 
 
 "Xowhere. if 1 may hazard the statement."' 
 said Mr. Warren, with grave courtesy, yet 
 with certain assurance, if noi reassurance, in 
 his tone. Instantly and anything but placidly, 
 the lady whirled alxnit and a pair of the big- 
 gest, bluest eyes in Pennsylvania stared at him 
 astonished. 
 
 ••| — I hegr pardon." said she. "I — I called 
 
 Xed." 
 
 "I beg \'Oiir pardon." said he. "that's why I 
 came. I'm called Ned." 
 
 ••I — m — mean my brother." she began, with 
 returning composure and dignity. 
 
208 THE LUCK OF THE HORSESHOE. 
 
 "And I'm mean enough to rejoice that, 
 though Ned, I'm not brother," said he, with a 
 symptom of an unrequitted smile. "But you 
 have lost your purse and Ned. Let me help 
 you find them — Ned first in relative order of 
 importance. Porter, where' s the gentleman 
 who came with this lady?" 
 
 "Got right off again, sir; — said he forgot 
 something. I tole him he hadn't time." 
 
 "Why, the gateman said there was plenty," 
 cried the damsel, in deep distress. "It was 
 only a — friend he wanted to see — just a min- 
 ute." 
 
 "He may have caught the rear car," said 
 the porter, sympathetically. "I'll run back 
 and find out." 
 
 "If he hasn't we'll get a wire from him 
 somewhere, and meantime please don't worry. 
 I can't replace him," said Warren, "but, per- 
 mit me, I can the purse." 
 
 "But my tickets, baggage checks, every- 
 thing were in it, and it's gone," cried the lady, 
 tears starting to the beautiful eyes, "all be- 
 cause that stupid boy would run back to speak 
 to a girl." 
 
 "They do make a lot of trouble," said Mr. 
 
THE LUCK OF Tllli: HORSESHOE. JOQ 
 
 Warren, reMectively. "Vet we must have 
 them." and Mr. Warren's sensitive hps were 
 twitching under his sweeping moustache. He 
 was getting too much fun out of the situation 
 to suit her. 
 
 ''Boys, you mean." said she. 
 
 "Girls I meant." said he. a quizzical smile 
 beginning to dawn upon his face, a smile that 
 instantly vanished at sight of the vexation if 
 not actual worry in hers. "Forgive me. I 
 am almost old enough to be your father," said 
 he — He had just turned thirty-five — "The por- 
 ter will find your brother, if not. the next train 
 will, and meantime remember that you are 
 neither purse — nor Xed — less." 
 
 The Limited was scjuirming up the Alle- 
 ghenies now, two monster engines panting in 
 the lead. The Sublima was careening a bit to 
 the right, as they rounded a sharp curve and 
 the slender hand instinctively reached for 
 something. \\'arren tendered an arm in sup- 
 port. 
 
 "These curves are sharp and sudden and 
 numerous." said he. "We are coming to the 
 Horseshoe. It will bring yi«u luck — Horse- 
 shoes always do, you know." 
 
2IO THE LUCK OF THE HORSESHOE. 
 
 '"Only if you pick them up on the road," 
 said slie. 
 
 "Well, didn't you pick? — no! Oh, here's 
 the porter! Well, porter?" 
 
 "Gen'lm'n didn't get aboard, suh. Waiter 
 on dining car said he saw somebody make a 
 run just as vve pulled out, but he was way be- 
 hind. S'cuse me. This is Miss Brinton, 
 isn't it?" 
 
 "Yes," answered Blue Eyes, hopefully. 
 
 "Yeas-sum. Conductor got a wire saying 
 drawing room was held for you — everything 
 else was taken. The Lieutenant has upper 
 one. Best we could do for him." 
 
 "Is the missing Edward an officer as well as 
 otherwise in bonds?" queried Mr. Warren, 
 sympathetically. 
 
 "He's only just beginning," pouted Miss 
 Brinton, "and going West to his first station, 
 and was to leave me at Chicago, but he's left 
 already — and so am I." 
 
 School girl slang is unaccountably pardon- 
 able when it falls from pretty lips. The gentle- 
 man old enough to be her father wished he 
 might hear more. 
 
 "We have sorrows in common," said he. 
 
THE LICK OF THE HORSESHOE. J I I 
 
 whimsically. "I. too, have a West Point 
 brother-in-arms. 'Brother at once and son.' 
 Mine's infantry in every sense of the word. 
 And yours?" 
 
 •"Tillery," promptly replied Miss Brinton, 
 with proper pride in the superiority of her 
 corps colors and total suppression of the first 
 syllable. "What is your brother's name? Per- 
 haps Pve met him." 
 
 "Warren, F. F. — which. I'm told, means at 
 the Point 'four files from foot,' otherwise 
 Toots." 
 
 "Tootsie Warren" cried Miss Brinton de- 
 lightedly. "Why I know him — well ! You 
 don't mean he's your brother?" 
 
 "1 plead guilty," said the man of thirty-five. 
 "And no one mourns it more than I — except 
 Toots. He loves me like a stepfather. Tell 
 me. Miss Brinton, is Toots ever going to 
 amount to anything?" 
 
 "Toots? Oh, why. Toots dances well, and 
 draws nicely." 
 
 "Draws," said Mr. Warren, reflectively. 
 "Yes. he draws remarkably. He drew five 
 hundred the eve of sailing for Manila. — one 
 week's expenses in San Francisco — and I 
 
212 THE LUCK OF THE HORSESHOE. 
 
 fancy he must dance fairly well if he pays the 
 fiddler at that rate. What 1 like about Toots 
 is that he absolutely can't lie. It would ruin 
 him in my business." 
 
 "Politics?" guessed Miss Brinton, in flatter- 
 ing interest. 
 
 "Pork," answered Warren, sententiously, 
 "and that reminds me. May I be pardoned 
 for a suggestion? We'll soon hear from the 
 lieutenant. Meantime you ought to be hun- 
 gry. I, at least, am hungry as a bear. Now, 
 ril be Ned, you be Toots and the w^aiter shall 
 bless our compact before we lose the Horse- 
 shoe." 
 
 She hesitated — looked down — then up into 
 his smiling eyes, and presently they went. Ten 
 minutes later at a little tete-a-tete table he was 
 making her forget her worriment in telling 
 about Toots and Ned and Ned's Altoona 
 sweetheart. Ned had met her at the Point, it 
 seems; had been corresponding with her ever 
 since, had coaxed his sister to stop over with 
 him just one day on their westward journey 
 that she might see his charmer and satisfy 
 papa — mother they now had none, — and papa 
 was to meet them at Chicago. What would 
 
THE LrCK OF THE HORSESHOE JI3 
 
 he say to Xed? When could a telegram reach 
 her? Warren equivocated with the ease of 
 «)ne long bred to the Board of Trade. He 
 knew they made no stop until they rolled into 
 Pittsburgh at nine o'clock, and with shameless 
 tongiie he told her "the very next station." 
 rightly reasoning that almost any answer 
 would (k> until after dinner. 
 
 Then their running restaurant leaned to the 
 left. and. glancing out, he saw unfolding in 
 their curxing wake the arc of twinkling lights 
 across some deep, black gorge, and then the 
 white gleaming electrics of a passenger train 
 gliding down the opposite mountain side, al- 
 most parallel with their present course. "It's 
 the Horeshoe Curve," said he. "Look out and 
 see it. and let us wish Xed and his Nanette 
 real horseshoe luck." 
 
 "And Toots, too," she said, beaming up in- 
 to his genial, animated face. "Oh. what 
 zcould I have done if I hadn't — taken you for 
 Xed!" Then in sudden confusion — "I — I 
 mean — " 
 
 "Xever mind." laughed Warren, delight- 
 edly. "\'ou'vc taken me for Xed. which 1 am. 
 Mav vou never wish me anvthine — less." 
 
214 THE LUCK OF THE HORSESHOE. 
 
 And SO, joyously, the early winter evenin<^ 
 sped away. The loss of a brother is soon for- 
 gotten in the finding of a friend. They lin- 
 gered in the brightly lighted car, shooting 
 down the westward slope of the Alleghenies 
 and following the windings of the Conemaugh, 
 foaming far beneath them. She told him of 
 her school days, barely over, and her home in 
 Illinois, and of papa, a magnate in the business 
 world well kn(own to him. She confessed to 
 being nineteen, and then, as the conductor 
 came through. Warren had brief conference 
 with that official, assuming charge in the event 
 of no telegraphic instructions from "The 
 Road," inspired by the belated Ned, and fin- 
 ally they went back to the Sublima a little 
 while before the Limited brought up standing 
 at Pittsburg, and never had there been in his 
 life a shorter evening. Then and there the 
 telegraph messenger came aboard with des- 
 patches, and, as Warren prophesied, there was 
 one from Brother Ned. 
 
 "Go right ahead. Father will meet you. 
 Coming next train. Conductor instructed by 
 wire." 
 
 "Go right ahead! The idea! How can I, — 
 
THE LUCK OF THE HORSESHOE. _' 1 5 
 
 without money or anything? That sttipid 
 boy's so desperately in love. He's just glad 
 to be left with Nanette another day, — and my 
 purse in his pocket all the time!" 
 
 "Sure about that?" queried Warren, who 
 had sisters of his own. 
 
 "Sure? Of course I am! I meant tu put 
 it in my bag. but Ned never thought to hand 
 it back." 
 
 "And vou're sure you never had it.-" \ou've 
 looked — pardon me — in the other compart- 
 ments?" 
 
 "What other compartment? Why. this is 
 the only one I've been in." 
 
 "Then you weren't for a moment — in Num- 
 ber Three?" 
 
 "I ? Not a bit of it. I ran out in the vesti- 
 bule to get a peep at Ned and Nanette. Why 
 do you ask?" 
 
 "H'm." said Warren, reflectively, thinking 
 of the dainty hand at the door. "I probably 
 imagined it." 
 
 "Now. either Master Ned meant to get left 
 or this little woman is egregiously mistaken," 
 mused that gentleman, later. The draw- 
 ingroom had been made ready for the 
 
2l6 THE LUCK OF THE HORSESHOE. 
 
 young- lady's occupancy for the night, and 
 Warren, after begging permission to take her 
 to breakfast in the inorning. had discreetly 
 wished her pleasant dreams and wandered oft* 
 to his own compartment. Altoona officials 
 had verified Lieutenant Ned's tickets and 
 wired the necessary instructions. That being 
 settled Warren had curled himself in a corner 
 of Number Three and given himself up to 
 thought. There was something odd about 
 this matter that he could not fathom. There 
 were, to be sure, other feminines aboard — 
 There was a very stylish woman of uncertain 
 years, slender and presentable, in Number 
 Five, for instance. She had come in to din- 
 ner with her husband, a man turned fifty, but 
 they kept to themselves. Their compartment 
 was closed when he and ]Miss Brinton returned 
 from the "diner", and, as he thought it all 
 over, something possessed him to look out into 
 the corridor. Compartment Five was closed 
 now, yet a tall man in ti"aveling suit was gently 
 trying the d(X)r. At sight of Warren he 
 calmly sauntered away. 
 
 The Ohio was left behind. The Limited 
 was breasting the grades across the Beaver. 
 
THE LUCK OF THE HORSESHOE. _' I 7 
 
 The porter came round to know if Mr. Warren 
 woukl have his berth made down (or up). 
 Warren said "presently", opened his bag for 
 a book and caught sight of something stuffed 
 into the crevice between the back and the seat 
 — a lady's portmonnaie. It was of seaJskin, 
 soft and fine, edged and bound with silver and 
 embellished with the letters L. \'. B. — Laura 
 \'. Brinton beyond a doubt. 
 
 And yet she had declared she had set foot 
 in no c».»mpartment but her own. The little — 
 prevaricator ! 
 
 It was too late to disturb her, Warren 
 slipped the portemonnaie into a breast pocket 
 and went for a cigar and a sip of Stout. It 
 would hardly do to mention the discovery to 
 the porter. He. too. had heard Miss Brinton's 
 positi\e statement that she had entered no com- 
 l)artment but her own. Under the circum- 
 stances he couldn't bring himself to tell any- 
 VkkW. It was after eleven when he returned 
 and there v.as that tall man in traveling suit 
 again, hovering about Number Five, and again 
 the tall man strolled away. With the jiorte- 
 monnaie in a waistcoat pocket under his pil- 
 low. Warren went to sleej). "Til give it to her 
 
2l8 THE JACK OK TJIK llUK^^hSllOE. 
 
 after breakfast when nobody's looking," said 
 he. He hated somehow to think how confused 
 she would be. even though he need not tell her 
 where he found it. 
 
 They were in Chicago, with breakfast over, 
 though still half an hour from the station be- 
 fore opportunity served. He had been awake 
 since dawn — a vexed spirit. He had vastly 
 admired that blithe, beautiful girl, thrown by 
 chance across his way. His life for years had 
 been hard and practical. The death of his 
 father, bankrupt after a squeeze to the Chicago 
 market, had left him w'hen a boy of eighteen 
 with the care of his mother, two younger sis- 
 ters and curly-haired, merry little Toots, a mis- 
 chief loving urchin of three. Valiantly had 
 Ned ^^^arren buried every personal hope and 
 ambition and sturdily had he gone to work to 
 keep a roof over their heads and the wolf from 
 the door. Never had he let himself think of 
 himself. Life was all duty. Toil, frugality 
 and stern self-denial had borne their fruit, and 
 at thirty-five, home and comforts and fortune 
 all had been earned for those the father had 
 left helpless in the hands of the eldest son. 
 Both girls were now well married and the 
 
THE Ll'CK OF THE liOKSKSl lOE. J 1 9 
 
 mother still lived to enjoy the handsome house 
 he gave her. Toots had at last achie\ed his 
 darling- ambition, and after five years of close 
 shaves and narrow escapes had wriggled 
 through the final exams at the Point. All liad 
 had life smoothed and Messed for them. He 
 alone. — the benefactor — was lonely. 
 
 And as the Limited climbed and pierced and 
 then coasted down the Alleghenies through the 
 early hours of the December night just gone 
 bv, and he had sat there in the warm, well- 
 lighted, cosey dining car, with fresh flowers 
 overhanging the dainty crystal and china and 
 snow white napery. with that fresh, fair, smil- 
 ing face beaming so trustfully up into his. a 
 dream so long forbidden that, through force of 
 habit, it had well nigh ceased to live, now stole 
 over his spirit and would not sleep again. 
 Stern slave of the lamp that he had been, he 
 shut out every thought of love and home life 
 of his own. but that face, that merry laugh, 
 that sweet, low. musical voice had spurred his 
 d<jrmant nature to instant and vehement life. 
 He so loved what was gentle, refined, beauti- 
 ful in woman. He so craved a heartmate, — a 
 home — of his own. TT(> ^^ rH'""'"'''! ''^ '-very- 
 
220 THE LUCK OF THE HORSESHOE. 
 
 thing slic did and looked and said — everything 
 except just one — just one. He who had so 
 whimsically spoken of Toot's blunt propensity 
 for truth as being disastrous to trade was yet 
 a man to whom a lie was a thing abhorrent. 
 And she had wilfully, unnecessarily declared 
 she had never entered his compartment. Yet, 
 had he not seen? — did he not know? Was 
 not here, in her portemonnaie, the proof ? 
 
 He could not bear to give it to her until the 
 last moment. He C(juld not bear to see in that 
 lovely, innocent face the blush of shame, or 
 worse, the stony insolence of renewed denial 
 that must follow his restoration of the porte- 
 monnaie. She must know where he had found 
 it. At Archer A\enue when they stopped a 
 few seconds, a gray-haired, distinguished look- 
 ing stranger boarded the train, and to his arms 
 she flew, delightedly. Then with beaming 
 eyes presented Mr. \\'arren. "I am under a 
 thousand obligations." began Mr. Brinton. "I 
 have had an anxious night since the coming of 
 Ned's message," he began. 
 
 "O, papa ! Air. Warren can fully sympa- 
 thize with you. He's Toots Warren's brother. 
 You remember Toots last summer at the Point 
 
THE LLCK OF THE HORSESHOE. 221 
 
 — Xed's classmate. .\n(l yoii must settle with 
 Mr. Warren, please — Xed ran off with my 
 purse — Antl you must tip the porter and you 
 must ask Mr. Warren to dinner.'' 
 
 And then Warren saw the way to restoring 
 that i>urse. without giving it to her. Just be- 
 fore they parted at the Canal Street station and 
 while Miss Brinton was being placed in the 
 waiting carriage with her array of hand lug- 
 gage — her's and Xed's — Warren slipped the 
 purse into the paternal hand. "Pray give it," 
 saivl he, "after you get home. Miss Brinton 
 thinks your son has it." And then Brinton 
 pcrc was hurried in and the carriage off to 
 make room for others. There was just time 
 for a word. 
 
 "The lloreshoe brought me the best of 
 luck." cried the sweet, clear voice, as a beam- 
 ing, wins'jme, beautiful face peered back at 
 him. nt)dding, smiling, tormenting, when the 
 carriage whirled away. And then Warren 
 turned to his cab, too full of that face to note 
 the next part}' lx)arding another carriage — a 
 very stylishly dressed — indeed overdressed — 
 woman whose face was closely veiled, a rubi- 
 cund man of fifty odd, a tall citizen in heavy 
 
222 TllK lACK OF THE HORSESHOE. 
 
 ulster close following. It was that face, only 
 that face that Warren took away to his busy 
 oflice, that peered between him and the pages 
 of his letters and ledgers all that day and the 
 next. "I shall see it again," said he, "at 
 dinner." 
 
 But the week went out without the invita- 
 tion. The Brinton's, who remained three days 
 at the y\nnex, left without a sign. 
 
 "She thought better of that dinner and 
 worse of me," said Warren to himself, "when 
 she found I had discovered her purse and her 
 fib at the same time." And so, wounded, he 
 had gone back to his work. 
 
 When next Mr. Edmund Warren saw the 
 Horseshoe he was again Eastward bound, and 
 he looked with gloomy eyes. For once the 
 grandeur of the scene had lost its charm. It was 
 some months later, and though never once had 
 he seen or heard of Miss Brinton, never yet 
 had her face been forgotten. This radiant 
 sunshiny morning as he looked out over the 
 glorious vista of mountain and valley, he was 
 thinking sorely of that evening ride on the 
 Limited — of all the gladness that seemed to 
 press into four blithe hours, only to be blotted 
 
THE LUCK OF THE HORSESHOE. 223 
 
 out. And then the porter sauntered over for 
 a word. 
 
 ••"Member that last time you went West with 
 us, Mr. Warren. — night the youns^ lady's brud- 
 der got let" at Toona?" 
 
 Warren wasn't thinking of anything else. 
 "]\[\, but dat old gentlm'n was hot 'bout her 
 pocketbook, suh !" 
 
 •*How S"'"' asked Warren in sudden 
 interest. 
 
 •"All the money was gone when she got it 
 back — over hundred dollars! Oh. I tole 'em 
 \ou were all right — 't'want you, though you 
 didn't tell mc you found it. It might have 
 gone hard, suh, wid some of us. tho', for de 
 Company just ramsacked everybody t'well dey 
 found out 'bout dem crooks." 
 •'What crooks?" 
 
 ••Lady and genTman, suh. — had Number 
 Five. Dey was •wanted' in Chicago and de- 
 tective come along with 'em all de way from 
 New York, 'n they never 'spected nothing 
 t'well dey got r)ff de train. Dey had money to 
 burn." 
 
 • And they had robbed Miss Brinton?" 
 '•Ve-cs. suh." chuckled the .\frican. "P.ut 
 
224 'i'ilE LUCK OF TllJi JlUKSESllOE. 
 
 Mr. — Mr. Brinton, first off, said 't'was you. 
 You must have had the purse all night." 
 
 "Merciful Powers!" thought Warren, "and 
 all because I couldn't bear to confront her with 
 the proof of her — tarradiddle." 
 
 Little by little, between the conductor and 
 the porter, he dragged forth the whole story. 
 Brinton, senior, had forgotten the purse until 
 Lieutenant Ned arrived on Number 21 at three 
 in the afternoon. Within an hour thereafter 
 the old gentleman appeared at the station, full 
 of wrath, to declare his daughter had been 
 robbed on the Sublima. There was time for 
 only brief investigation before the Limited 
 started out on the evenmg run back to New 
 York. Both conductor and porter had stoutly 
 declared their confidence in Mr. Warren's in- 
 tegrity, but Brinton was still unconvinced. At 
 the end of the week, when they again reached 
 Chicago, the rest of the story came out. Three 
 days after the loss the Company were after 
 the couple shadowed by the tall detective — 
 also the shadower, who had come aboard only 
 just as the Limited left Jersey City on the 
 morning of her start. Then the police ad- 
 mitted that two noted criminals had been cap- 
 
THE LUCK OF THE IIORSKmioi,. 
 
 --D 
 
 turetl at a north side residence an iK.ur after 
 their cominf^ to Chicago, and then Papa Brin- 
 ton's investigation came to an end. Laura's 
 money was doubtless part of the sum found in 
 the possession of the pair. Then Brinton took 
 his daughter home. 
 
 That was December. Now it was nearly 
 April, and one day there came a missive from 
 Brother Toots, written in the mud and mailed 
 at Manila. 
 
 "De.\r Old Ned: — 
 
 I gave all the news to mother, so see her letter. We 
 go out on 'nother hike to-night, and Tve only time for a 
 word. Ned Brinton says his father wants to see you 
 next time he gets to Chicago — wants to explain some- 
 thing — can't make out what. Ned won't tell, but it's 
 something about some monev you lent that awfully 
 pretty sister of his when Ned got left. He's rabid to 
 go home and marry that Altoona girl, and he can't ask 
 for leave until this business is wound up. Ned says 
 his sister says you were "just lovely to her", and papa 
 hadn't properly thanked you and it was partly her fault 
 and — well. I can't make it all out. but Ned says she's 
 written to him no less than three letters about it. and 
 that's more thought than she bestows on any of us. 
 Just send a line to the old chap, will you. and let him 
 know where he can find you. When is that .March 
 interest coming? 
 
 Yours. 
 "Toots." 
 
226 THE LUCK OF THE HORSESHOE. 
 
 \Varren's cheek burned. "She thought me 
 a thief" he growled to himself, "and I thought 
 her a fibber !" Next day he was away from Chi- 
 cago again, bound northward, and on a soft 
 April evening set foot at Melton Station. He 
 went, too, unannounced. He had not sent a 
 line to the "old chap," as Toots suggested. 
 It was the old chap's business to send a line to 
 him. if. as the railway people declared, he had 
 ever said he believed Warren had purloined 
 his daughter's money. That- matter was now 
 easily explained. 
 
 When Miss Brinton stepped out to the ves- 
 tibule, leaving her satchel unguarded and un- 
 locked, it was an easy matter for the enterpris- 
 ing occupant of Number Five to seize the mo- 
 ment when almost everybody was out of the 
 car, and then the purse, — to dart into the va- 
 cant Number Three, little expecting Warren 
 to return at once from the dining car whither 
 her male companion declared him to have 
 gone. His sudden coming well nigh caught 
 her, but she barred him out, rightly guessing 
 he would go for the porter. Then she stuffed 
 the ravished portemonnaie deep down in the 
 crevice, and, richer by one hundred dollars or 
 
THE LUCK OF THE HORSESHOE. J27 
 
 more, slipped back to her own seat, and was 
 all demure innocence a moment later. 
 
 But in tiiat moment's work she had thrown 
 suspicion on two honest souls. Edmund War- 
 ren supposed on 'Change to have no higher 
 aim in life than the sale of unlimited pork, and 
 Miss Laura Brinton who, prior to that even- 
 ing's ride u}) Horseshoe Curve, had been as 
 fancy free as a child. 
 
 No. Warren sent no warning of his com- 
 ing. In fact he was not seeking Brinton 
 perc. He longed to see that other face again, 
 and believed he knew a way. Inquiry of a 
 business associate had developed the fact that 
 it was Miss Brinton's almost daily habit to 
 drive in to the post office for the evening mail, 
 and he swung away at sturdy pace over the 
 winding highroad in the direction of the Brin- 
 ton homestead. It lay but a mile from the 
 pretty town and on the borders of the great 
 lake. His satchel he left at the station, his 
 stick he swung in his hand. "Look out for a 
 ])haeton with bay ponies," he told his eyes, but 
 before he had put half a mile between himself 
 and the station something glinted in the slant- 
 ing sunbeams, and there at the edge of the 
 
228 THE LUCK OF THE HORSESHOE. 
 
 roadway shone a shapely little horseshoe. 
 He stooped, picked it up. put it in his sack 
 coat pocket and faced about. That shoe had 
 told its story. The pony team had already 
 gone to town. 
 
 When, perhaps a dozen minutes later, he 
 saw coming- toward him over a rise in the road 
 a stylish pair of miniature bays, his heart gave 
 a leap, and so did he, — to the shelter of some 
 roadside shrubbery. Peering from this coign 
 of vantage he saw that the off side pony was 
 favoring his right hind foot, and that settled 
 the matter. With the shoe uplifted in one 
 hand, his derby in the other, Mr. Warren 
 stepped out into the highway, the fair chario- 
 teer threw her weight back on the reins, a 
 small tiger sprang to the ponies' heads and 
 took the bits under advisement. The lady, 
 despite herself, blushed vividly with surprise 
 and pleasure, but, "Why, Mr. Warren!" was 
 all she said. 
 
 "Permit me to restore missing property," 
 said he. "Not the portemonnaie this time, but 
 the portc-bonJieur." 
 
 The blush deepened, "Who told you?" said 
 she. 
 
THE LUCK OF THE HORSESHOE. 22^ 
 
 "The pony." said lie. "This cne," and re- 
 placing his Derby, he gave the little fellow a 
 reassuring pat. 
 
 "I mean — about tiic portemonnaie." 
 
 "What about it ?" 
 
 "You've heard — about its — being — etnptied 
 — before you had a chance — " 
 
 "I did have a chance. I had it all night," 
 and Mr. Warren's lips were twitching provok- 
 ingly, as his eyes eagerly feasted on her sweet, 
 blushing face. 
 
 "I mean." said Miss Brinton. tlicking at the 
 dust with her long whip, "to return it, of 
 course. r"*apa made — so much trouble. I was 
 afraid you heard!" 
 
 "I did hear eventually — Xed and Toots — " 
 
 "Oh, those wretched boys ! — what will they 
 say next?" 
 
 "They said I should sue papa for damages." 
 
 "Mr. Warren! — You wouldn't — He's — " 
 
 "Miss Brinton, I shall. I've decided once 
 and for all. I shall bring suit — at once." 
 
 **0, Mr. Warren ! It was all my fault. — 
 my carelessness — my stupidity. I'm awfully 
 sorry! Can't I settle it in some way? I've 
 wantctl to say so ever so long." 
 
230 THE LUCK OF THE HORSESHOE. 
 
 "And I've wanted to hear you. In fact I 
 wanted to have you — in fact I still want to 
 have you — Indeed you're the only one who can 
 settle it !" 
 
 And then she looked up into his eyes, half 
 startled, half joyous, and then — all seeing, the 
 soft eyes fell again, and though his hands were 
 trembling, he laid the little horseshoe in her 
 lap and stepped quickly to her side. 
 
 "You have not decided about the journey," 
 he was saying, as he bent over that bonny, 
 beautiful head one summer evening, a few 
 months later. 
 
 "There's only one point about it that I wish 
 to decide," she answered, smilingly. "It isn't 
 where we go. It's the way we come — home- 
 ward. Ned, I picked you up, as you say, 
 twice. Almost any day we can come past the 
 old mile post here at home, but I want to come 
 again — where I found my luck — by way of the 
 Horseshoe Curve." 
 
■- 1, 
 
 
 flf 
 
 'M 
 
 / 
 
A CAMERA CAPTURE. 
 
 She was aboard the express steamer, 
 Deutscher Kaiser, bound from Cologne for 
 Mayence. the gay June morning he first set 
 eyes on her, but she rewarded his gaze of un- 
 deniable admiration by landing at Bonn. She 
 was accompanied by a silvery-haired gentle- 
 woman, obviously an invalid and apparently 
 her n;iother, reinforced by a middle-aged per- 
 son, half nurse, half general utility woman, 
 and commanded by a fourth personage obvi- 
 ously austere to the world at large and dom- 
 ineering to her kith and kin. The girl was 
 pretty (the prettiest things to be seen in the 
 Rhineland are the .\nierican girls), the mother 
 pathetic, the maid unsympathetic, and the 
 maiden aunt — portentous. The run from the 
 Dom-centering streets of the old Gemian city 
 to the academic shades of Bonn is but a short 
 one. but it was long enough to indulge Mr. 
 
MAP 
 
 or 
 
 FOLD 
 
 -OUT 
 here 
 
A CAMERA CAPTURE. 
 
 Slie was aboard the express steamer, 
 Deiitscher Kaiser, bound from Cologne for 
 Mayence, the gay June morning he first set 
 eyes on her, but she rewarded his gaze of un- 
 deniable admiration by landing at Bonn. She 
 was accompanied by a silvery-haired gentle- 
 woman, obviously an invalid and apparently 
 her niother. reinforced by a middle-aged per- 
 son, half nurse, half general utility woman, 
 and o^mmanded by a fourth personage obvi- 
 f)usly austere to the world at large and dom- 
 ineering to her kith and kin. The girl was 
 pretty (the prettiest things to be seen in the 
 Rhineland are the American girls), the mother 
 pathetic, the maid unsympathetic, and the 
 maiden aunt — portentous. The run from the 
 Dom-centering streets of the old Gemian city 
 to the academic shades of Bonn is but a short 
 one, but it was long enough to indulge Mr. 
 
2^2 A CAMERA CAPTURE. 
 
 Lcc in a dclil^cratc study of Miss Beveridge, 
 from the tip of the j.crt feather in lier tourist 
 hat to the toe of her trim and dainty boot ; long 
 enough to inspire iiim with more longing — 
 with longing to know her. with interest in the 
 invalitl. and with instinctive antipathy to the 
 maiden aunt. He, too, was abroad for his 
 health, recuperating from a wound received in 
 front of Santiago the year Ijefore; a wound 
 that, followed by malarial fever, had well-nigh 
 wrecked him. Tw^ice had he caught the dam- 
 sel's eye, a thing that rejoiced him unduly, for 
 he did not see it was the little tricolored button 
 in his left lapel, rather than the wearer, that 
 attracted her. The second time she blushed, 
 but it was from annoyance at being caught, not 
 from maidenly confusion. He had been look- 
 ing forward with eagerness to seeing the Sie- 
 ben Gebirge close at hand and wondering what 
 on earth the Deutschlanders saw in such 
 diminutive upheavals to warrant the name of 
 "mountain ;" but he turned from them in dis- 
 appointment and did not even rally as they 
 neared the confluence of the Moselle, with 
 mysterious Ehrenbreitstein frowming on them 
 on the one hand r.nd Coblent/' nestling like a 
 
A CAMERA CAPTl'RE. J^^ 
 
 toy town on the opposite shore — and all be- 
 cause Miss Beveridge had left the boat at 
 Bonn. 
 
 She was aboard a wheel the next time he 
 saw her and they met face to face on a terrace 
 overlooking the Rhine. She had a camera 
 slung over her shoulder, and the middle-aged 
 maid wobbled unsteadily on another wheel a 
 few yards behind. Lee had a camera over his 
 shoulder, but no other incumbrances. The 
 recognition — of the girl on his part, of the 
 button on hers — was instantaneous. He 
 sprang to his feet from his seat on the waist- 
 high wall and whipped off his tourist cap. She 
 bowed gravely in return, and her glance was 
 at the Initt.ui, n..t at him. and this time he 
 realized it. 
 
 She wheeled onward to a point where the 
 road began a zigzag climb. There she dis- 
 mcmnted. light as a bird. The maid followed 
 suit, light as a cow. and together th.e two 
 ascended the steps to a platform above, leav- 
 ing their wlieels at the roadside under the dis- 
 tant and martial eye of a smart little Prussian, 
 picklchaube-crested sentry at an elongated box 
 
234 A CAMERA CAPTURE. 
 
 Standing on end and striped like a barber's 
 pole. 
 
 Lee had felt unequal to a climb even to see 
 the sights of Ehrenbreitstein. Now he decided 
 that duty, as a discharged volunteer staff offi- 
 cer of Uncle Sam. recjuired of him study of 
 permanent fortifications. Technically he 
 didn't know a demilune from a ditch, but 
 neither did she. 
 
 When Mr. Lee reached the upper platform 
 and saw the blue Rhine twisting through the 
 southward hills, spanned by the graceful rail- 
 way bridge above Coblentz and dotted with 
 boats and barges of every kind, he bethought 
 him of his camera as an excuse for being there, 
 and took two snapshots up the world-renowned 
 valley, hardly taking his eyes, however, off the 
 girl. Then he noted that a picturesque party 
 of officers, just in from drill of some kind, was 
 filled with interest in Miss Beveridge, who, un- 
 conscious of their voluble admiration, was lost 
 in contemplation of the legend-haunted stream. 
 It is believed that in love and in war most Con- 
 tinental militaires consider themselves invin- 
 cible. There were six in this squad, slim- 
 waisted, sandy-haired, straw-mustached young 
 
A CAMERA CAPTrRK. 
 
 -0^ 
 
 fellows — tip-top soldiers, too. ready to drink 
 or die for their X'atcrlantl at drop of the hat, 
 but a bit asinine, none the less, where pretty 
 girls were concerned. They assumed her un- 
 consciousness to be feigned, and. halting at 
 the turn of the roatl. regardless of the indigna- 
 tion in the eyes of the dragon, her attendant, 
 began audible attempts to attract her attention. 
 Lee was fifty yards away, but he could hear, 
 and. firing up like the scion of three genera- 
 tions of Yankee soldiers that he was. started 
 for the group, stick in hand and blood in his 
 eye. 
 
 They were standing, as luck would have it, 
 at the foot of a flight of steps leading to still 
 another level. The sun, well up in the south, 
 shone full upon their burnished helmets and 
 shoulder scales and on the massive wall at 
 their back, over the crest of which jieeped 
 the black muzzles of certain of Krup])'s 
 masterpieces. Miss Beveridge, twenty paces 
 beyond them, could not but hear their deuKMi- 
 strative coughs, could hardly mistake their ob- 
 ject, yet placidly she contiiuied her survey as 
 though deaf to every sound. Then suddenly, 
 before Lee could reach them, the clatter of 
 
236 A CAMERA CAPTURE. 
 
 scabbards, the sputter of shod hoofs smote up- 
 on the car. and coming at sharp canter round 
 the turn of the road was a general officer with 
 a group of aides and orderHes. Instantly the 
 sextette shriveled into statues. Six white- 
 gloved hands went up in salute to six brass- 
 bound visors. Six pairs of heels clamped 
 tight together and six slim- waist ed. short- 
 skirted subalterns gazed adoringly at the high. 
 well-born, royal Prussian-fortress inspector's- 
 commandant's-general ; damsel and dragon 
 both forgotten. 
 
 As for Miss Beveridge, in all the fearless 
 innocence of maiden America — a land where- 
 in there lives no military regulation the sov- 
 ereign citizen may not trample under foot — 
 she quickly unslung her camera, quickly took 
 aim at the brilliant and most characteristic 
 Prussian group; snap went the slide as she 
 touched the button, and so — brought on the 
 arrest. 
 
 From the battlements of Ehrenbreitstein 
 Prussia fears no foe. but scares at a camera. 
 To take so much as a snapshot at so much of a 
 fortress as can be seen through a baby camera 
 renders the taker liable to be taken, perhaps, 
 
A CAMERA CAl ! L Kl.. JjJ 
 
 for a spy. The General didn't sec, for his 
 back was toward her as he galloped away. The 
 subs didn't see, for they were temporarily ab- 
 sorbed in him — they had to be or suffer arrest 
 in (luariers. lUit a sentry had seen both Lee 
 and the h^raeulein Americaner and was tjawl- 
 ing for some functionary of the guard. 
 
 The first thing Miss Beveridge knew, as the 
 dust cleared away, a young man in tourist garb 
 was at her side, holding forth a camera. 
 
 "Change with me — please — quick I" quuth 
 he. 
 
 •"What for?" said she wiih wide open blue 
 eyes and no little resentmeni in tone. What 
 business had he to accost her — even if he did 
 wear the same button brother Jim sported 
 when in civilian dress? — Brother Jim being a 
 lieutenant, senior grade, in the Xavy and S(jn 
 of a soldier of the great war of '6i. 
 
 "T heard your mother say you must get on 
 to Mayence this evening and you can't, if they 
 catch you — with that — and here they come!" 
 Fact! lM)ur little Prussian soldiers were 
 scuttling down the steps from an upper ledge, 
 a sergeant in the lead. The group of subal- 
 ters had given ear to the cries of the sentry and 
 
238 A CAMERA CAPTLRi:. 
 
 were now standing, open-eyed, behind pmcc- 
 ncz and monocle, watching the result. Lee 
 had nnslung his camera on the run. and, with- 
 out more ado. possessed himself of hers lying 
 on the stone coping, set his in its place and 
 tranquilly continued : 
 
 "Now, be so good as to hurry to your wheel 
 and spin away home. I'li straighten this out 
 
 "But — why ? — what ? — " 
 
 "Miss Beveridge, unless you wish to spend 
 the night in a dungeon and craze your mother, 
 go at once. I'll send yt)ur camera to the con- 
 sul at Mayence." 
 
 Then the dragon began to whimper, and be- 
 tween them and bewilderment Miss Beveridge 
 was started down the steps. Then Lee 
 squatted on the coping and cheerfully awaited 
 developments — and the defenders of Ehren- 
 breitstein. 
 
 They had to zigzag down and so lost time 
 and breath and temper. They ran up sputter- 
 ing and seized upon Lee and the camera. 
 
 "What's up?" said he in imperturbable 
 American. A German of^cial, civic or mili- 
 tarv, usuallv blusters, shouts and gets red in 
 
A CAMERA CAPTUKE. 239 
 
 the face when he makes either an arrest or ex- 
 l)lanation. The Yankee as frequently con- 
 founds and exasperates him by consummate 
 sang-froid. German instructions for guards 
 and sentries prescribe just what the sentry 
 shall shout when he sees a camera at forbid- 
 den work. The official language fails to in- 
 dicate the sex of the culprit. In fact, sex in 
 German tongue is a thing too intricate to be 
 settled short of sixteen syllables. The ser- 
 geant wachtmeister, (overwhelming Lee with 
 Teutonic reproach, could not now hear the 
 sentry's supplementary shouts to the effect that 
 he had got the wrong culprit. The three at- 
 tendant soldiers could hear but dare not offer 
 suggestion to a superior — implication that a 
 higher officer may not know everything being 
 inadmissible in the Prussian military code. 
 
 So Miss Beveridge wheeled away to the 
 bridge of boats and so on back ti^ the Bellevue, 
 Lee's camera at her iiip, Miss Perkins at her 
 heels and something new at her heart. That 
 young man was presental^le, was ])rom])t, de- 
 cisive, even commanding, and most women — 
 until they're married — like commanding men. 
 Xow wliat blunder had she committed? What 
 
240 A CAMERA CAPTURE. 
 
 danger was his on her account? It occurred to 
 lier to wheel round to the consul's and ask 
 Herr Pfeift'cr, the accomplished English-speak- 
 ing" German clerk. 
 
 "Ach Himmel !" said Pfeiffer. "Did not 
 the gnaediges fraeulein know it of the most- 
 conspicuous, high-offensive, imprisonments- 
 bringing misdemeanor was, any map. picture, 
 writing, inscription. fortifications-view to 
 take?" 
 
 "I didn't," snapped Miss Beveridge and Miss 
 Beveridge's blue eyes. "1 only took a shot at 
 a lot of boy lieutenants under the cannon." 
 
 "Ach Himmel !" and Pfeiffer's hands flew up 
 in air, then swooped on the camera. 
 
 "This one isn't mine! I exchanged — " and 
 Miss Beveridge blushed vividly. 
 
 "Du lieber Himmel ! With the distinguished, 
 much-wounded, of-wdiom-to-us-have-written- 
 the- Embassy in Berlin, Herr Major Lee — " 
 
 "He.'" A soldier! — and wounded!" cried 
 Miss Beveridge. "Oh, mercy, Herr Pfeiffer, 
 what zi'ill they do to him? Amanda, go at 
 once to mother and tell her I'm going back to 
 Ehrenbreitstein. Fve got an officer — a wounded 
 officer — r^Ir. Lee, arrested. We shan't go to 
 
A CAMERA CAl'TLKE. 24I 
 
 Maycncc to-iiight. I clun't care what Aunt 
 Xerva says!" 
 
 But she didn't go back, fc^r Pfeiffer had 
 sprung to the telephone and was in excited 
 collo(iuy in high-pitched, high German with 
 some \er\- well-born sub-deputy commandant's 
 inspector across the Rhine. She could catch 
 and translate occasional words. They wanted 
 to know all about Lee. and Pfeiffer w-as load- 
 ing them with facts hitherto utterly unsus- 
 pected. Herr Major Lee of His Excellence, 
 much-esteemed United-States-of-North- Amer- 
 ica-High-Ambassador a nephew was. Herr 
 Lee of the brave. freiwiller-United States-of- 
 North-American-.Vrniy. a high distinguished 
 "stabs offitseer in hauptquartier den" of the- 
 Lleaven-knows-what-all. a Major who severely 
 at Santiago in battle twice wounded was. 
 Twice had he to dinner with the high imperial 
 kinglike. Ciesarlike. Prussian and-all-around- 
 German Emperor at the imperial palace already 
 been. ptc. etc. Pfeiffer. it seems, was bent on 
 giving Ehrenbreitstein to understand that in 
 nabbing Lee they were entertaining a martial 
 angel unawares, and Pfeiffer must have pre- 
 vailed. That evening as the Beveridge i)arty 
 
24-? A CAMi:UA CAPTURE. 
 
 trundled away southward under the vine-ciad 
 heights, the anxiety of Miss Beveridge was ap- 
 peased ])y the farewell tidings im])arted by 
 Mine Host of the Bellevue. that Herr Major 
 Lee had sent for his dress-clothes. Though 
 still nominally a captive he was to dine whh 
 liis captors. 
 
 "But where, child, is your camera all this 
 time is what / wish to know?" demanded Aunt 
 Minerva. 
 
 And Miss Beveridge smilingly asseverated 
 that she really could n(3t tell. 
 
 It turned up three days later at Wiesbaden. 
 So did Lee. In fact they came together, and 
 it seemed as though Lee were indisposed to 
 surrender one without the other. ]\Iiss Beve- 
 ridge received him with a blush. Miss Minerva 
 with austere reserve. '"Europe is full of ad- 
 ventures and silly girls," said she. "Mr. Lee, 
 or Major Lee, is most presumptuous. As for 
 Mabel, she is headstrong and you permit it." 
 Needless to say she spoke to the invalid. 
 
 Nevertheless, Lee hung on for a week, and 
 then one day who should come but the Stan- 
 dishes of Boston — a hc^usehold at whose doors 
 Miss Minerva had looked long and vainlv when 
 
A CAMERA CAPTLRE. 243 
 
 last she visited the Hub. "It's the last drop." 
 said she. "'They'll never know us now with 
 this — ineligible-trapesing 'round after Mabel." 
 But she garbed herself in grandeur for dinner 
 that evening, purposely detaining the family 
 until after the Standishes had gone down. 
 She 'had "located" the table reserved for the 
 Standishes and swept in past it at the head of 
 her train, prepared to impress, and. lo. they 
 were not there! Men and women both, the 
 Standish quintette had surrounded Major Lee 
 at his own table, and Miss Minerva glared for 
 a moment, then turned on her niece for ex- 
 planation, for Mabel was bubbling over with 
 fun. 
 
 ••They were chums. 1 believe, at Harvard, 
 and were later in the same brigade — and be- 
 long to the same Commanderv of the Loyal 
 Legion." she finally admitted. 
 
 "Thev? Who? The whole family?" de- 
 manded Aunt Minerva severely. 
 
 "Xo, merely Mr. Lee and Mr. Miles Stan- 
 dish." 
 
 And all through dinner Aunt Minerva could 
 
 only gaze. 
 
 Late that evening Lee found Mabel. 
 
244 A CAMERA CAPTURE. 
 
 "Are you still American enough to come 
 and walk with me in the garden a while? I've 
 got to go to Heidelberg with them to-morrow. 
 It was planned and promised — before we be- 
 gan snap shooting Prussian strongholds." 
 
 Even Aunt Minerva had not so much as a 
 sniff in comment when Alabel bent over her 
 mother's chair for the desired permission. The 
 impropriety of a thing depends so very much 
 on the social standing of the parties to it. 
 
 "Is there no hope of your — coming to look 
 down on the Neckar from the old castle?" he 
 queried, as he led her along a moonlit aisle, 
 away from the band and the busy tongues of 
 society. "They are students, not soldiers, 
 there, you know. You can snap shoot all you 
 like." 
 
 "I fear — I think — not, Mr. Lee. Wies- 
 baden seems to be just the place for mother." 
 Yet she was thinking at that moment of Kate 
 Standish, who had so warmly greeted him. 
 
 "You have said, T fear,' yet I wish I feared 
 half as little," said he, stopping at a corner, 
 but not releasing her arm. 
 
 "You weren't half afraid that day at Ehren- 
 breitstein," she hurriedly spoke, knowing well 
 
A CAMERA CAPTURE. 245 
 
 that a telltale tremor had come into his voice, 
 a telltale flush to her own bonny face. "Why 
 (lid ycni make me cliange cameras with you — 
 when 1 could so easily get away?" 
 
 •'Because I didn't tiiink they'd be such dun- 
 derheads. I feared they might overtake and 
 arrest you, too. If they did. then the film 
 would show nothing but a harmless shot at the 
 Rhine." 
 
 "Oh! — then you — didn't mean to take me?" 
 exclaimed Miss Beveridge. glancing demurely 
 
 up. 
 . "Didn't mean to! Heavens! What wouldn't 
 I giNC? — " And the glowing eyes, the tremb- 
 Hng hands that seemed twitching with eager- 
 ness to stretch forth and seize the slender 
 form, were unerringly telling their story. 
 "Why? Did I take you?" he asked. 
 
 "1 was the centre of one picture." she an- 
 swered, still demurely. "But — you — didn't 
 mean it. you know." And now in delight with 
 her power e)ver him, she looked up again, smil- 
 ing bewitchingly. teasingly, temptingly. 
 
 "Then — let us change back again at once," 
 he begged. "Where is that film?" 
 
246 A CAMERA CAl'TLKE. 
 
 "Where is mine — with all those lovely Prus- 
 sian officers? — and that splendid cavalcade?'' 
 
 "Confiscated, of course!" he answered with 
 instant frown. "Heavens ! Here comes Stan- 
 dish — and that Bovvdoin j^irl. Mabel, quick — 
 I want the picture — 1 want the subject — I want 
 — you.'' 
 
 "But you — are going to Heidelberg to escort 
 Miss Standish," she interposed, dimpling delici- 
 ously. longing to hear, yet, womanlike, toying 
 wnth her bHss — even with Standish "and that 
 Bowdoin girl" close at hand. 
 
 "Kate Standish is engaged and has been— 
 a whole year. Answer me — for I love you. 
 May I come back from Heidelberg? 
 
 "We-ell. H you want that picture — or the 
 —the " 
 
 But the rest was lost — smothered ; Standish 
 had gone another way. 
 
THE FATE OF GUADALUPE. 
 
 For one week after the Insurgent attack on 
 the American forces at Manila, the Hne of the 
 Pasig river, eight miles in length, was practic- 
 ally clear. Leaving over 160 dead, a number 
 drowned and three hundred wounded and pris- 
 oners under the walls of Santa Ana, the main 
 body of Ricarte's brigade of Pilar's division 
 retreated up the southern bank, hotly pursued 
 by the right wing of the First Brigade of An- 
 derson's Division. At the English cemetery 
 and on the height where stands the fine old 
 church and convent of San Pedro Macati, they 
 strove to rally, but had apparently lost heart 
 as a result •>! the fearful drubbing given them 
 that morning, and the efforts of their officers, 
 brave and fanatical fellows as they are. were 
 fruitless. A mile further up stream, perched 
 on another height and surn)unded on three 
 
248 THE FATE OP GUADALUPE. 
 
 sides by thick woods, was still another church 
 — the richest and finest on the river — that of 
 Guadalupe. Its walls were massive and of 
 great thickness. Its tower commanded a fine 
 view in every direction. Its attendant con- 
 vent or monastery was the largest we had seen, 
 and on the shelves of its great library were 
 many books, some that must have been two 
 centuries old, richly bound and of unquestioned 
 value. A populous native village had nestled 
 under the steep bank that fell away to the river- 
 side and, while bamboo and nipa huts stretched 
 along up and down stream for several hundred 
 yards, a dozen substantial houses of hewn 
 stone, some of them enclosed in massive walls, 
 stood side by side along the road. In such a 
 position it was possible for a small force to 
 hold at bay four times its number. The gun 
 boats had not yet come that far up the Pasig. 
 There was an abundant supply of ammunition, 
 for the Insurgents left eighteen thousand 
 rounds of rifle cartridges in one of those very 
 enclosures, and the pursuing command was 
 strung out in long column all the way from 
 the Paco suburb of Manila, but even with these 
 advantages the Insurgents would not turn. 
 
THE FATE OF GUADALUPE. 249 
 
 Abandoning the headquarters of Pio del Pilar 
 in San Pedro village with all its papers and 
 records, they continued their flight to Pasig 
 Ferry and beyond. Guadalupe church. Guada- 
 lupe convent. Guadalupe village were found 
 utterly deserted save by scores of snarling. 
 mangy dogs, scarecrow cats and squawking 
 chickens. The men of California. Idaho and 
 Washington swarmed all o\er the premises in 
 the course of the next few days, while the ad- 
 vance guard pushed on to the head of the river, 
 and found even the great island town of Pasig 
 and the outlying villages of Pateros and Tag- 
 uig undefended. "Johnny Filipino" had fled, 
 no one knew whither, and the head men of the 
 deserted bailiwick came out with white flags 
 and protestations of amity and proffers of 
 surrender. 
 
 And so it happened that for nearly a week, 
 with but slight molestation, the troops of the 
 First Brigade of the First Division dwelt in 
 peace and cIo\er among these lately bustling 
 and populous towns, feeding on the fat of the 
 land and wondering what had become of the 
 enemy. 
 
 Far over toward the l)eautiful bav f>f Manila 
 
250 THE FATE OF GUADALUPE. 
 
 their comrades of the Second Brigade were 
 confronted by a stout force in the bamboo south 
 of Pasay, some two miles from their original 
 line. To the north of Manila the Second 
 Division was halted before Caloocan. whose 
 strong entrenchments were bristling with little 
 brown warriors. Only along the southeast line, 
 up the Pasig river, ilid there seem to be no 
 obstacle to our advance, and that is how it came 
 about that the lines of the First Brigade 
 stretched like a long-drawn elastic band, 
 thinned to the snapping point, from Paco 
 Bridge to the Laguna, seven miles by road, and 
 more by river. 
 
 But all this time our corps commander was 
 an anxious man. From trustworthy sources 
 he had learned that within the walls of old 
 Manila, and in the densely populated districts 
 surrounding it, Tondo, Binondo and Quiapo on 
 the north, Ermita on the south and Paco and 
 Pandacan to the east, there were thousands of 
 Insurgents eager to rise and massacre the 
 Americans to a man. One-fourth of his effect- 
 ive fighting strength had to be stationed, there- 
 fore, within, or close to, the city and far back 
 from the fighting line, ready to pounce on the 
 
Tin: FATF. OF GUADALl'PE. 25 I 
 
 rirst nidh ^^i natives that showed itself. Xot 
 only was this precaution wise and necessary, 
 hut it might even happen that the command- 
 ing- general would be compelled to call for fur- 
 ther aid from the regiments at the extreme 
 front. It may be said of the First California, 
 that on the 8th of February it reached from 
 Pasig to the Puente Colgante — the suspension 
 bridge connecting the old city with the Ouiapo 
 district, a stretch of six miles to say the least. 
 This grew fn^m the fact that, by orders from 
 coqDS headquarters. one battalion was left at the 
 great barracks close to the bridge, to stand 
 guard over the natives. One company was in 
 Pandacan for a like purpose. Others were at 
 San Pedro Church ; others still at Guadalui)e, 
 while Captain Eggert with a single company 
 occupied after the surrender the big church in 
 the wealthy town of Pasig, and never seemed 
 to give a care to the fact that an unbridged and 
 unfordable river lay at his back, between him 
 and supports. 
 
 But General Otis did. He knew the enemy 
 were hovering in hundreds about every exposed 
 point on MacArthur's line, were defiant of 
 Ovenshine's thin ranks in front of Pasay, and 
 
252 THE FATE OF GUADALUPE. 
 
 that at any moment they could swoop down on 
 this far exposed brigade and disaster might fol- 
 low^ His apprenhensions were anything but 
 shared by tlie hgiit-hearted volunteers, and 
 when on the 13th their outposts were attacked 
 and their communication threatened, they re- 
 joiced with exceeding joy. On the 14th 
 Colonel Smith, the gallant commander of the 
 Californians, sent a valentine in honor of the 
 day and in shape of a scouting party out 
 through the open country to the south of the 
 Pasig, and speedily stirred up Filipinos by the 
 hundred. The farther he went the more he 
 found. The gunboat, Laguna, came steaming 
 to Pasig Ferr}' intent on taking a hand in the 
 fight, and the roar of her guns was heard at 
 Manila and started the story that another battle 
 was on. Next day, the 15th, things did look 
 squally, for the little brown men gathered in 
 swarms and their Mauser bullets hummed and 
 whizzed like angry w^asps. The guns once 
 manned by the Astor Battery, but now handled 
 by Hawthorne and his regulars, and those of 
 the gunboat joined in the uproar, and for four 
 hours it sounded as though great things were 
 going on instead of a long-range skirmish, and 
 
THE FATE OF CUADALUPE. _'53 
 
 now General Otis interposed. "That brigade is 
 too far out." said he to the division commander. 
 "It must be withdrawn to the lines of San 
 Pedro Macati." 
 
 And so. much surprised but still subordinate, 
 back came the lads of that far Western com- 
 mand. Barring the brigadier and some of his 
 staff, all were Pacific Slope men. Idaho. Wash- 
 ington and California supplying the i)ersonnel, 
 but in disposition that brigade was far more 
 pugnacious than pacific, and the order to re- 
 tire proved most unpalatable. Equally sur- 
 prised and wild with joy. up rose hundreds of 
 the dusky enemy from on every side, and cheer- 
 ing like mad and sounding their musical bugles, 
 on they came in pursuit. Confident that this 
 would be tl\p upshot, the division commander, 
 Major General Anderson, had already selected 
 a line of defense that should fill the reciuire- 
 ments of the orders of his superior. A third 
 of a mile up stream and in front of San Pedro 
 the hills broke away from the riverside and 
 left an o|)cn valley nearly 200 yards wide. In 
 this there stood the sheds and huge stacks of 
 the product of some big pottery concern, aban- 
 doned, like everything: else, to the mercv of the 
 
254 'i'lK KATK OK GUADALUPE. 
 
 Yankees. Ilere. as the extreme left of his di- 
 vision Hne, the g^eneral had thrown up a stout 
 little eartlnvork. commanding the ri\er roatl, 
 while the line of intrenchnients was planned to 
 riui gradually up the eastward slope of the hill- 
 side commanding the valley until it reached the 
 strong, walled enclosure of San Pedro ceme- 
 tery on a height soutlieast of the old church. 
 From this point it led away southward across a 
 mile-wide "swale'" of open ricefields, dipping 
 to a dry water course midway and rising again 
 to the next salient, a knoll crowned by a crop 
 of trees and a stack or two of hay. and referred 
 to in subsequent orders and reports at Hay- 
 stack Knoll. From thence the line bore away 
 southward well out in. front of the country 
 cross road between San Pedro and Pasay, 
 skirted a beautiful grove covering the hamlet 
 of Culiculi, and thence, guarded by Ovenshine's 
 brigade, led straight away to the bay shore 
 south of Pasay. 
 
 Along this line, slowly and doggedly retiring 
 before the advancing Filipinos, the men of the 
 First Brigade set to work with pick and spade 
 to throw up the needful shelter against the 
 ever wliizzing Mausers, every little while when 
 
THE FATE OF GUADAI.L'PE. J53 
 
 the enemy pressed too close, dropping those 
 bncolical implements for the more familiar 
 Springffield. ami occasionally stoppingr work t<i 
 cheer some particularly well-aimed shot from 
 Hawthorne's bellowing giins. Splendid little 
 guns were they, — Hotchkiss never made a bet- 
 ter. — but the ammunitii .n was a thing to make 
 artillerists weep or blaspheme according to 
 temperament, and the Filipino laugh. Half 
 the shells failed to explode, but, when they did. 
 great was the execution thereof. 
 
 Through the hot morning of the i6th this 
 ionsr-ransre work continued until eleven o'clock, 
 when "Johnny Filipino" fancied himself 
 strong enough to push ahead and drive the blue 
 line back to Manila. All on a sudden the 
 merrv music of his bugles came floating in on 
 the iireeze, — some stirring, spirited call that 
 was taken up and carried along from height to 
 height across the intervening mile of thicket 
 and ricefield. — and then, lirisk and buoyant, out 
 came the skirmish lines, dancing into view 
 along the op])osite slopes, firing rapidly as they 
 deployed. And then the hiss of Mauser and 
 hum of Remington became incessant, and Cali- 
 fornia on the right and Washington on the left 
 
256 THE FATE OF GIADALUPE. 
 
 and Idaho scattered along pretty much every- 
 where, sprang to their rifles with unholy joy, 
 and. just as soon as "Johnny came marching 
 home again" within reasonable range, turned 
 loose on their welcome visitors. Presently the 
 fields began to show stationary dots here and 
 there — hats of Filipino straw and uniforms of 
 Filipino fabric seemed to be stretching out to 
 bleach in the blazing sun, and though officers 
 on horseback galloped up and down behind 
 their men, and brandished swords and waved 
 their hats and shouted imprecations in Tagal 
 and Spanish, the lines began to falter. Here 
 and there whole sections would flop face down- 
 ward behind the thick earthern walls of the lit- 
 tle patches of the paddy fields and couldn't be 
 induced to come further. Then a new element 
 of discomfort appeared on their right flank and 
 sent it scurrying back to shelter, for all on a 
 sudden gray old Guadalupe began to spit fire 
 and smoke and Springfield bullets, and, though 
 it stood long half a mile away from the right 
 flank of the attacking force, the men behind the 
 guns were fellows that had done squirrel hunt- 
 ing from early boyhood and knew how to pull 
 trigger with a placid and unheaving breast. 
 
THE FATE OF GUADALUPE. J57 
 
 Pushing his fighting Hnes thruugh tlic thick 
 bamhoo, along the bluffs that overhang the 
 river, del Pilar found slow and burdensome 
 work, and though his scouts across the Pasig 
 could plainly see and promptly tell him that the 
 main line was intrenching up the hijlside back 
 of the old pottery, they could not see that Guad- 
 alupe church was still held — an tnitlying fort 
 in front of the left of our line. 
 
 But it was, and by Anderson's order, for it 
 had occurred to that skilled veteran that, should 
 Pibr attack across the open ground to the 
 south before our thinned ranks could spade up 
 shelter to protect themselves, a flank fire might 
 be poured into at least the right of his charg- 
 ing line, and he well knew the Filipinos could 
 not stand it, and so, under Lieutenant Colonel 
 Duboce, First California, a little force had been 
 halted at Guadalupe, half a mile out in the 
 dense woods beyond our left, and there three 
 companies lined the church and convent walls 
 and windows. The friars of old had vanished, 
 Init the rafters rang with the chant of San 
 Franciscans, their hymn oi praise — "There'll 
 be a Hot Time in the Old Church To-night." 
 
 But a hotter time, a sadder time was to come 
 
■J^H THK FATK OF GUADALUPE. 
 
 for the old church two nights after. It was 
 one of the sorrows of the campaign. 
 
 Faihng in the general attack along the whole 
 line on the i6th, the Insurgents fell back to 
 the ridges to the south and east, leaving sharp- 
 shooters to keep up an exasperating fire on our 
 hard-workinj^ fellows. By nightfall the 
 trendies were fairly strong. They had to be, 
 for the wires were hot with stirring reports 
 and injunctions from headquarters in Manila. 
 *'Enemy in strong force reported massing op- 
 posite your left. Formidable attack may be 
 expected any moment. Use every endeavor to 
 strengthen your line. If necessary strip your 
 right to strengthen your left. Not another 
 man or gun can be sent to your support. Posi- 
 tion must be held at all hazards." etc., etc. 
 
 A ride out to Guadalupe developed the fact 
 that the Filipino sharj^shooters were crawling 
 in to the thickets on three sides of that prom- 
 inent and imposing landmark. The view from 
 the lofty belfry was even more interesting than 
 before. Imt attended with undesired aeolian 
 effect. The moment a campaign hat was poked 
 up through the scuttle th.ose veneral)le bells be- 
 gan to chime. Mauser and Remington mis- 
 
THE FATK Ul- CI' AUALL TK. 259 
 
 siles rang the changes in spirited style, and the 
 l)anorania lost its charms. Out in the trenches 
 to the east dI the convent. McRoberts with a 
 brace oi Idaho companies was blazing into the 
 ])amboo whenever the Mausers cracked, and 
 within the walls themselves and in the thickets 
 to the south the lieutenant colonel of the Cali- 
 fornians had stationed "M." "L" and '"G" 
 companies of his own regiment. At midnight, 
 after a continuous strain of three days and 
 nights under fire, he reported his men '"dead 
 tired", yet alert and looking for the promised 
 attack. All night long the little l.^rown men 
 kept popping away at the lights in San Petlro 
 Macati where brigade headciuarters had been 
 established, and at the windows of the church 
 on Guadalupe Height, but. except wdien they 
 sent in a skirmish line to try the mettle of the 
 men toward Haystack Knoll at tiiree o'clock in 
 the morning, no aggressive move was made. 
 Here, lying l1at in the hollows and depressions 
 within three hundred yards of our line and 
 firing much too high, they contented them- 
 selves with a few volleys of mingled chaff and 
 bullets, one dusky humorist gleefully imitating 
 the commands of a stentorian captain anil the 
 
260 THE FATE OF GUADALUPE. 
 
 entire force from time to time setting up a 
 shrill squeal of "Gangway — Gangway!" — the 
 expression our fellows had learned aboard ship 
 as the nautical equivalent for "clear the track" ; 
 but. as the track was not cleared, the mud 
 colored scamps finally slid back to safety before 
 the sudden coming of the day. 
 
 That day, too, the 17th, was spent in the 
 midst of alarms, generally from our rear, for 
 everything coming from the front was 
 promptly disposed of. This night again was 
 as quiet — just about — as the Fourth of July at 
 home, and from some points along our line 
 came demands for more ammunition. The 
 woods about Guadalupe were now thickly pop- 
 ulated with Insurgent sharpshooters and the 
 crack of the Mauser was heard in the land far 
 more frequently than was desirable, yet no man 
 could really "locate" the shooters, for smoke 
 less powder and thick bamboo gave no tell-tale 
 sign of the lurking foe. Duboce began to get 
 tired of the incessant spat of the shot upon tlie 
 convent roofs and walls. The brigade wanted 
 to sail in and "wipe the woods dry", as a big 
 Californian expressed it, but orders forbade. 
 Convinced that the enemy was in heavy force 
 
TlIK KATK OF GUADALUPE. 261 
 
 in our iront ihe Liovernor General said "defend 
 to the last." but let there be no more attack. 
 He was waiting- for the promised C(3ming of 
 those six regiments of regulars shipped from 
 'Frisco and New York. 
 
 And so. with the coming of the afternqon of 
 the 1 8th. the situation in front of San Pedro 
 was a teaser. Anderson, ever alive to the in- 
 terests of his men and the care of his line, came 
 riding out about 4 o'clock to see what was best 
 to be done in view of the latest reports from 
 corps headquarters. This time the enemy was 
 massing in force opposite Haystack Knoll and, 
 bevond all question, said Headquarters, a fierce 
 attack might be looked for immediately after 
 dark. Now that part of the line was really its 
 weakest point, and it Pilar had been the dar- 
 ing leader he was reputed to be. he could have 
 crashed through with a charging column some 
 dark night and gone careering on toward 
 Manila. \'ery possibly, however, he reasoned 
 that while the Yankee line was stretched to the 
 utmost to cover that space from river to 1>ay. 
 it would let go at the front at the moment of 
 puncture and then come swarming about his 
 ears. Discretion was. therefore, the better 
 
262 THE FATE OF GUADALUPE. 
 
 part of valor. But here on the i8th his dem- 
 onstrations were such that the Bureau of Alili- 
 tary Intelligence fairly snapped with excite- 
 ment. "Strengthen your right hy every pos- 
 sible means, even if you ha\-e to strip the left," 
 was the word, and the question was. hcnv tn do 
 it. 
 
 As matters stood there was not a man in re- 
 serve. Exceju the Californians held to service 
 in Manila, the small guards on watch at Paco, 
 Pandacan and Santa Ana. and a single company 
 furnishing guards and pickets for the roads 
 about San Pedro, every able-bodied mother's 
 son of the First Brigade was at the extreme 
 front. There was only one spot from which 
 the brigadier could draw, and he looked at his 
 division commander, half hating to suggest it, 
 for well he knew to what it must lead, — Guada- 
 lupe! That grand old church was a white 
 elephant on our hands. It was a menace for, 
 were the Insurgents to reoccupy it, their fire 
 from its windows would speedily make San 
 Pedro untenable. Spaniard and Tagal, each 
 in his turn had used it as arsenal and fortress. 
 With one more regiment on the eastward line it 
 might still be saved, but where was that regi- 
 
Tin: FATI-: OF GUADALUPE. J63 
 
 nicni to cuine m.ni? Had not the fiat gone 
 forth that not another man would be sent to 
 Anderson's division ? Was not every company 
 in Ovenshine's brigade to our right batthng day 
 and niglit with unseen foemen in the jungle? 
 Only by the withdrawal of Duboce's battalion 
 from those venerable walls could we bolster the 
 right, and if Guadalupe hail to be dropped, it 
 must be made so hot that no enemy could pick 
 it up. Anderson saw the problem in the twink- 
 ling of an eye. and decided like a flash. "Burn 
 it." said he. '"and recall Duboce to the rear of 
 the line." 
 
 And so the orders went toward half past four 
 to the lieutenant colonel commanding. "Send 
 back at once to San Pedro all spare ammunition 
 and heavy baggage. Relieve ]McRoberts and 
 his two Idaho companies and direct him to re- 
 port to brigade headcjuarters. Make all prep- 
 arations to abandon Guadalupe church, to de- 
 stroy it by fire and to retire with your command 
 to San Pedro." 
 
 At 6:30 McRoberts and his little command 
 came trudging back by the river road, none too 
 happy at thought of quitting the extreme front, 
 but speedily cheering up when informed they 
 
264 Till. l-.\il-. OF l.LAUALUrE. 
 
 were to join the main body of their gallant regi- 
 ment over beyond Haystack Knoll, v/here, if 
 the Bureau of Military Information was to be 
 believed, Pilar proposed to hew a way town- 
 ward in the darkness of the night. In the 
 rapidly gathering dusk they reslung their 
 blanket rolls, after brief rest in the little plaza 
 in front of Pilar's old house, now brigade 
 headquarters, and swung away up the stony 
 track to the churchyard on the hill, and then, 
 under the peeping stars, out over the open 
 country in rear of the trenches. Within the 
 headquarters building the little telegraph in- 
 strument kept up a constant clicking, messages 
 coming and going between division and brigade 
 commanders and between the latter and the iso- 
 lated force at Guadalupe. The night came 
 down breathless and still. The silence at the 
 front was really ominous, for all the previous 
 nights from dusk until 3 a.m. the Insurgent 
 fire had been almost incessant, and between 3 
 and sunrise hardly ten minutes passed that 
 were not punctuated with the crack of their 
 rifles. Not a shot had been fired on McRobert's 
 men as they drew away, and one could well 
 nigh believe that Pilar really was stripping his 
 
THE FATE OF GUADALUPE. .265 
 
 right to mass for an attack on ours. Yet. wary 
 scouts, creeping far out to the front from Hay- 
 stack Knoll, could see nor hear nothing there 
 of any gathering in force and the lookouts that 
 had spent the afternoon hours in the treetops 
 on the kw.A], sweeping the country to the south- 
 east with their glasses, declared that nc^ Insur- 
 gents in any number had passed from in front 
 of Guadalupe to reinforce the Insurgent left. 
 Then the Guadalupe garrison were certain that, 
 though no IcMiger firing, the little brown men 
 were still in the woods and ravines about them, 
 and daring fellows climliing to the belfry and 
 peering about them saw moving lights and 
 many little campfires up the south bank of the 
 Pasig. The foe was still there then, and it was 
 decided not to order Dulioce to apply the torch 
 and ([uit until later in the night or until the pre- 
 dicted attack materialized. 
 
 All on a sudden, soon after seven o'clock, the 
 sharp crackle of musketry began up stream, and 
 Mauser bullets came zipping into San Pedm. 
 Duboce hail most of his Califomians by this 
 time in their trench and wall fortifications east 
 of the church, and as the enemy appeared to 
 be in consideral^le numbers and not quarter of 
 
266 THE FATE OF GUADALUPE. 
 
 a mile away, the rule witli regard to firing only 
 when they could l)e plainly seen was relaxed, 
 and close to the river a lively C(jmbat went on 
 for as nmch as an hour with little or no damage 
 to our side, and still there came no demonstra- 
 tion where predicted, over at the right. Ten, 
 eleven, twelve o'clock passed by and all night 
 long those little owls of Filipinos seemed bent 
 on keeping up their fusillade. It fell away 
 from volleys to file firing within the second 
 hour and to scattering shots by midnight, but 
 still it was there and not at the right. Not un- 
 til three o'clock did it die away entirely, and 
 now with the dawn less than three hours off, it 
 was time to be thinking of the proposed con- 
 flagration. 
 
 The signal service operator with his instru- 
 ment was still in Guadalupe tower, and at 3 130 
 Duboce reported that he had his stacks of com- 
 bustibles in various places about the interior of 
 the church and convent, and he was eager to 
 get through with it and away, for his men were 
 hungry and tired. Some nitro glycerine had 
 been sent for the use of the engineers in blow^- 
 ing up the barges and cascoes sunk to block 
 the way in the Pasig, and had been stored in a 
 
THE FATE OF lilADALUPE. 267 
 
 stone-wallcd room on an upper floor of the 
 church. The men had an idea that this would 
 exi)lode and convert old Guadalupe into a vol- 
 cano, and they naturally preferred to watch the 
 spectacle from a distance. A single word over 
 the wire. "Quit." was to be Dulw)ce"s signal to 
 touch off his inflammables and call off his men. 
 But still there came no sound from the right 
 save that Major Figgins. the- brave veteran 
 c(~»mmanding the First Idaho, stoutly main- 
 tained that Pilar couldn't raise men enough in 
 all Cavite to burst through his line before we 
 could reinforce him. 
 
 There was still another hour when 4 o'clock 
 chimed on the big Dutch clock that stood within 
 the hallway. The staff had gathered on the 
 azotca overlooking the swirling Pasig and list- 
 ened eagerly for the promised crash of mus- 
 sketry that should announce Pilar's attack. 
 V'wt o'clock came and still no sound save the 
 plash of the waters on the pebbly shore, the 
 tramp of the sentry on the stone flagging, the 
 mournful howl of .some homeless dog. and the 
 clicking of the telegraph instrument in the 
 dimly lighted office. The gray tower of Guad- 
 alupe, perched on its height a thousand yards up 
 
268 THE FATE OF GUADALUPE. 
 
 Stream, l)egan to loom against the faint rose 
 tint in the eastward sky, and then somebody 
 said "Hark!" 
 
 Far out over the roHing country to the south, 
 far over beyond our saHent of Cemetery Height 
 a sputter and crackle of rifle shots broke upon 
 the silence of the morning air. Then came the 
 crash of a volley, the ciuick, spirited blare of a 
 bugle at San Pedro church, answering some 
 distant signal from the right front. Another 
 volley and a far-away rattle as of fire crackers. 
 An aide-de-camp sprang into saddle and went 
 clattering up the road to the knoll. The oper- 
 ator got a nod from the General and flashed the 
 single word to his comrade at Guadalupe. 
 There was a rapid buckling on of sword or pis- 
 tol belts in the group of officers at headquarters, 
 a pulling on of gauntlets and testing of saddle 
 girths, a few brief w^ords of instruction and 
 then — silence. Almost as suddenly as it began 
 the volleying out to the south had died away. 
 The scattering shots became fewer and fainter, 
 then ceased entirely. Pilar's grand attack was 
 again postponed, and once more the staff 
 scrambled out to the azotea and gazed toward 
 Guadalupe. 
 
THE I-WTL: of GUADALUPE. 269 
 
 There against that flawless morning sky. now 
 a glory of crimson and goUl. a bK-ick cloud was 
 slowly rising o\cr th.e great gray tower. 
 Higher and higher it soared toward the heavens 
 where some of the belated stars still twinkled 
 in the vault of blue, and men gathered on the 
 walls of San Pedro and Imvered along the curv- 
 ing shore of the Pasig and watched with all 
 their eyes. Then the windows on the west- 
 ward side became hidden in murky smoke that 
 billowed out from their deep embrasures, and 
 all the big edifice seemed gradually to wrap 
 itself in a veil of gloom that well nigh hid it 
 from our sight. Then, all on a sudden, red 
 and angry a tongue of flame leaped from the 
 belfry, and almost at the instant others burst 
 from the windows of the upper floor. The 
 dense, black balloon-like mass that hovered over 
 the doomed sanctuary took on a lurid glare, 
 and far and near the Filipinos seemed to wake 
 at the sight, and over on the opposite shore the 
 Pariah dogs set up a howl as of woe and dis- 
 may. Then the lofty tov»er began to don a 
 mantle of flame, and the corrugated iron roof, 
 that had long withstood earthfjuake and 
 typhoon, to crackle and curl, and all the time 
 like the popping of innumerable cartridges, the 
 
270 THE FATE OF GUADALUPF. 
 
 dry bamiKx) that had l)een heaped in the various 
 halls and rot)ms kept up an incessant fusillade, 
 audible away back at the trenches. The roar 
 of the flames grew louder every moment and 
 presently crash after crash in the blazing inte- 
 rior told that stair and gallery and wooden 
 beam were coming down, and that soon the 
 great vooi must give way and let out the pent 
 up volume of fire. Then came a dull, booming 
 sound and the west end of the roof seemed to 
 hea\'e and expand and then to sink with stun- 
 ning crash into the blazing abyss below. And 
 now, indeed, a volcano burst against the lawn 
 and a huge column of smoke and sparks and 
 flaming fragments sailed upward into space, 
 and then, down into the fiery depths, their 
 beams and supports eaten from under them, the 
 consecrated l^ells of Guadalupe went thunder- 
 ing upon the stone pavement a hundred feet 
 below, the harsh clangor resounding over the 
 shouts of the soldiery lined up to w^elcome the 
 Californians as they came marching in, many 
 of them grimy with smoke. Broad daylight 
 and the morning sunshine followed at their 
 heels, showing only a smoking, seared and 
 blistered ruin, its tower toppled to earth and 
 only the massive walls left standing to tell of 
 Guadalupe's grandeur in the by-gone days. 
 
THE MANILA WIRE. 
 
 It was the morning of the 5th of February 
 and all Manila was girdled with smoke and 
 flame. From the shores of the beautiful bay 
 opposite the Bocano de Vitas at the north, 
 away around in wide sweep across the Pasig 
 and tiience to old Fort San Antonio Abad at 
 the southern suburb, long lines of .American 
 soldiery were pitted against the opposing forces 
 of the Insurgent army, led by Aguinaldo's best 
 and bravest generals. For three months the 
 Filipinos had maintained a strict blockade, for- 
 bidding the soldiers of Uncle Sam to cross the 
 outer limits of the city — a jagged semi-circle 
 along which the Spaniards in the days of their 
 domination had built a series of wooden block 
 houses. Even when the Insurgents began 
 thntwing up earthworks and planting guns 
 again.st the American position, their h>stile 
 
2/2 THE MANILA WIRE. 
 
 demonstrations were ignored, and to the very 
 last our government persisted in treating the 
 "little brown men" as friends and allies. As 
 early as the middle of December it was only 
 too evident that armed attack was imminent. 
 All the same, orders required that Aguinaldo's 
 officers be received with every courtesy and the 
 rank and file with kindness. They came and 
 went within our lines at their own free will. 
 Their soldiery, their women and children in 
 swarms would visit the American outposts, and 
 claim a share of the ample rations and profess 
 undying regard for their "Amigos Ameri- 
 canos." Yet in hundreds of native homes 
 rifles and ammunition were stored to be used 
 against our wounded, our surgeons and nurses 
 when the day of battle came, and some of the 
 convents and many of the churches proved to 
 be veritable arsenals. And it is about one of 
 these, — the big stone church at East Paco, the 
 eastermost suburb of Manila, that there hangs 
 a story not soon to be forgotten by the men of 
 Anderson's Division of the Eighth Corps, a 
 story of heroism and devotion to duty that may 
 well be remembered by the youth of America. 
 Crossing the Estero de Paco by a massive 
 
THE MANILA WIRE. 
 
 -/J 
 
 bridge of stone, tiie Calle Real — the main 
 street — passed within a few rods of the win- 
 dows and towers of the church. It was the 
 broad thoroughfare over which went most of 
 tlie travel and much of the traffic between 
 Manila and the thronged towns and villages up 
 the Pasig river and around the picturesque 
 Laguna de Bay. It was lined on both sides 
 with houses whose lower story, at least, was of 
 stone, solidly built to resist the earthquakes, 
 sometimes so destructive in this volcanic land, 
 and on its northern side were strung the tele- 
 graph wires, two in number, of the signal corps 
 of the army, connecting the outermost block 
 house. Number Eleven, with the field head- 
 quarters of the general in command of the First 
 Brigade of the First Division of the American 
 army of occupation, and with those of his su- 
 perior officers. Major General Anderson and 
 Major General Otis, within the walled city of 
 Manila. 
 
 With the early dawn of that lovely Sunday 
 there came galloping along the hard-beaten 
 road a wiry little Filipino pony, ridden by a 
 slender young soldier in brown khaki uniform. 
 From underneath the curline brim of his drab 
 
2/4 Till-: .MANILA WIRE. 
 
 felt campaign hat a pair t)f clear, dark brown 
 eyes peered eagerly, searchingly along that line 
 of wire and up and down every pole. Some- 
 times bending low in saddle, sometimes sitting 
 erect, he was searching for any defect or dam- 
 age, for ever since four o'clock Mauser and 
 Remington bullets had come whizzing in from 
 the front, sometimes striking the walls and 
 spattering flinty chips on every side, sometimes 
 glancing on the stony roadway with vicious 
 spat, sometimes shattering the glass in the 
 lamp-posts, or crashing through the delicate 
 seashells that, framed in little squares, formed 
 the windows of the Filipino houses. From the 
 fact that the sentries at the bridge presented 
 arms as the young rider spurred along, and 
 that there was a single silver bar on e:ich dark 
 blue shoulder strap, it was evident that, despite 
 his youth, the young rider was an officer — a 
 first lieutenant — and the device on the collar 
 told further that he was of the signal corps of 
 the volunteer army. He was a handsome fel- 
 low, with clear-cut. regular features, dark, 
 wavy, brown hair and a face bronzed liy tropic 
 suns but radiant with the health and spirit of 
 youth. His form was supple and well knit. 
 
THL: MANILA WIRK. 2/5 
 
 his shoulders hmad. liis clicst deep, his arms 
 and legs U>iig- aiul sinewy. He looked emi- 
 nently '"tit", as our English cousins would say, 
 and so thought more than one otTicer in the lit- 
 tle group at brigade headquarters as he came 
 loping into view, and many a man in the bat- 
 talion of Californians drawn up under shelter 
 of the stone walls of the cross street. Only a 
 few minutes before two men of the First Idaho 
 had been shot just in front of brigade head- 
 quarters where the y^-'ung signal officer sprang 
 from saddle to make his report to the adjutant 
 general. 
 
 "Lines all safe as yet. sir," he said, his hand 
 going up in salute, "but the fire is pretty sharp 
 along the road and the sentries say there's 
 occasional shooting around them. They can't 
 tell where the bullets come from now that it is 
 light, and the enemy uses smokeless powder. 
 The Wyoming regiment is in reserve, by Gen- 
 eral Anderson's order. l)ehind those buildings 
 across the bridge, and they say. too, that they 
 hear shots every little while." 
 
 An ambulance driving rapidly came rattling 
 down the street from the firing line at the east- 
 ern skirt of the village. .\ pale faced soldier, 
 
2/6 THE MANILA WIRE. 
 
 his arm freshly bandaged, sat beside the driver, 
 and both soldier and driver trembled with 
 wrath and excitement as they drew up in front 
 of the building. 
 
 "We were fired at from three of those nipa 
 huts up the road, right there this side of the 
 bend," said the driver, angrily, and then lower- 
 ing his voice: "I've got two desperately 
 wounded men inside, too." Then a hospital 
 corps soldier, springing from the step, corrob- 
 orated the statement. 
 
 "I could see the 'niggers' in one shack aim- 
 ing at me," he said, "and the bullets flew close 
 as — that," and he whisked his hand back over 
 the shoulder, almost shaving his ear. 
 
 "The General's over at Battery Knoll with 
 the guns," was the answer of the chief of staff. 
 "There they go now!" he added, as with a 
 roar and shriek the long shell leaped from the 
 brown muzzle and went tearing through space 
 toward the Krupps in the river redoubt. Then 
 followed a distant crash — It had burst just 
 above the hostile parapet. "We can't get or- 
 ders to advance yet, and when we do he wants 
 you to follow us right up with your wire. 
 Communication must be kept by telegraph. It's 
 
THE MANILA WIRE. 2~'J 
 
 as much as a man's life is worth to attempt to 
 ritle this street, and I hate to send an orderly 
 with a message." 
 
 "Can you leave men enough to guard the 
 line?" asked the young signal man, anxiously. 
 "They'll be cutting it in a dozen places other- 
 wise." 
 
 "We haven't got 'em." was the impatient 
 answer. "Sooner or later the order must come 
 to pitch in. Then every man will be needed at 
 the front. They are calling for reinforcements 
 even now at Block House ii. The General 
 sent in two California companies and then rode 
 over to Dyer's Battery. You might go to him 
 there, if you like. He'll want to know this, 
 anyhow." 
 
 But, even as he spoke, up the street at sharp 
 trot, followed by a single orderly, came the 
 brigade commander. The crash of musketry 
 at the front and the cheers of the Californians 
 as they drove in through the ricefields to the 
 support of their comrades of the First Wash- 
 ington had deadened the sound of the pony's 
 hoofs. Silently, but with intense interest, the 
 General listened to the driver's story of the fire 
 from the nipa huts on the skirts of the town. 
 
278 Tin; MAMLA WIRE. 
 
 and even before it was more than half told, ex- 
 cited exclamations among the soldiers called 
 his attention away. Lashing his pony to top 
 speed and bending down on his neck, an orderly 
 came tearing in from the front, running the 
 gauntlet between two rows of native houses 
 from which the sharp, vicious crack of the 
 Mauser, and the heavier report of the Reming- 
 ton could be plainly heard. 
 
 "Send a platoon to thrash those fellows and 
 burn those huts at once !" was the instant order. 
 "Send a company back toward Paco church. 
 Did they fire at you from there?"" turning sud- 
 denly on the signal officer. 
 
 "I think so, sir," was the modest answer. 
 "At least they fired several shots from some- 
 where close at hand." 
 
 "You'll have hard work keeping your wires 
 up to-day, my lad," said the General, thought- 
 fully, "and I can't help you very much, either. 
 But, all the same, I rely upon you." 
 
 "You may, sir," was the answer, and the old 
 soldier and the young shook hands and parted. 
 
 Two hours later came the longed-for order — 
 "advance," and with crashing volleys and ring- 
 ing cheers the men of California, Washington 
 
THE MANILA WIRE. 2J() 
 
 and Idalin plunged through the muddy stream 
 at their front and charged home upon the in- 
 trenchments to the south and west of Santa 
 Ana. and tlien wlieehng to their left, drove the 
 Insurgent force i)ell mell to the hanks of the 
 Tasig, many indeed drowning in their frantic 
 efforts to swim to safety on the farther shore. 
 Meanwhile the extreme right of the hrigade. in 
 hot pursuit of the Insurgent reserve and rear 
 guard, drove on eastward along the highway, 
 overwhelming the enemy every time he strove 
 to make a stand, and at last, worn and hreath- 
 less. halted for the night. On the back of a 
 pasteboard cartridge case their brave leader, 
 Colonel Smith, of the First California, wrote 
 to his commander the brief soldierly report of 
 their success, and sent it back to Santa Ana by 
 galloping orderly. 
 
 "Wire this news at once to General Ander- 
 son," w^s the order at headquarters, as the 
 brigade commander turned his horse's head up 
 the river road and spurred away for the ex- 
 treme front. The wire was there already, so 
 energetic had been the work of the signal corps, 
 but when the operator touched his key a mo- 
 ment later the line was lifeless — dead. 
 
28o THE MANILA WIRE. 
 
 "Wire's cut!" said he, briefly, and went leap- 
 ing down the stone steps in search of his young 
 chief, and in another moment the tall lad in 
 brown khaki was lashing his pony back along 
 the corpse-strewn road to Paco. Through a 
 lane of blazing nipa huts he tore his way, 
 keenly scanning the new strung wire. Over 
 the scarred Concordia bridge, where the battle 
 raged so hotly in the early morning, the nervy 
 little racer bounded to the Manila side and so 
 on down the Calle Real between the smoulder- 
 ing ruins of the native huts, from which had 
 come that treacherous fire in the rear that 
 killed and wounded in the early morning mem- 
 bers of the sacred band that served under the 
 protection of the Red Cross. On past the more 
 substantial homes of the better class of the Fili- 
 pinos — all deserted now ; on past the old head- 
 quarters, given over by this time to the 
 wounded and their surgeons ; on still another 
 block, with not a break in the line: on until 
 the sight of warning hands uplifted from the 
 shelter of many a wall, the sound of warning 
 shouts from many a brawny throat compelled 
 the officer to draw' rein. Dense volumes of 
 smoke and flame were nourine; from the roof 
 
THE MANILA WIRE. 20I 
 
 and windows of the great church and convent 
 in Paco Square. "And yet," said the soldiers 
 huddhng in the shelter of the nearest building, 
 "there's a gang of 'em in the stone tower the 
 flames can't reach, and they are tiring at every 
 man that shows a head along the street." 
 
 Peering through the murky veil, the young 
 officer could dimly see other crouching forms 
 of blue-shirted soldiers firing upward at the 
 tower window — wasted shots that only flat- 
 tened harmless on the archway alx)ve the hidden 
 heads of the daring fellows that held the tower 
 and with their rifles poured through narrow 
 slits a deadly fire on the roadway. Over at 
 Battery Knoll Captain Dyer had trained one of 
 his guns to bear on that lofty little fortress, and 
 every now and then a shell came screeching 
 over the roofs and burst with crash and crackle 
 at the tower, and still any attempt on part of 
 officer cr man to run the gauntlet along that 
 road was met with instant crack of Mauser 
 and zip of bullet. It was a lane of death — but 
 Duty beckoned on. 
 
 "For God's sake, lieutenant, don't try it !" 
 yelled a .sergeant, as with blazing eyes and set 
 lips the young signalman suddenly gave spur 
 
282 THE MANILA WIRE. 
 
 to his pony. The words fell unheeded, for in 
 another minute, despite a vigorous balk and 
 protest, the little beast was urged into a trot, 
 and. with his eyes on those precious wires, the 
 brave lad rode sturdily on. Another second 
 and he was seen from the tower, barely two 
 hundred yards away, and then down came the 
 hissing bullets. Like angry wasps they buzzed 
 past his ears, and the brave young heart beat 
 hard and fast, but Duty — Duty always led him 
 on, and just a block away, under sharp fire, 
 every inch of it, he came suddenly upon a sol- 
 dier of his corps crouching in the shelter of 
 the stone wall at the roadside and pointing 
 helplessly to where the severed wire hung, 
 limp and useless, from a tall pole close to the 
 abutment of that perilous bridge. One way 
 and one way only could it be repaired. Some 
 one must climb that pole in the very face of 
 those lurking rebels in the tower. If the 
 smoke 'hung low it might spoil their aim. If 
 it lifted, and it was lifting now, he could not 
 hope to escape, and yet that wire must be re- 
 stored, and Duty bade him make the thrilling, 
 hazardous effort. Springing from saddle and 
 crouching at the wall, he made his hurried prep- 
 
TlIK MANILA WIRE. 
 
 -oj 
 
 arations. From the nervous hand of his sub- 
 ordinate he took the clamps and the few tools 
 necessary, stowed them in the jx^cket of his 
 blouse, and then, with who knows what 
 thought of home and mother, with who knows 
 what murmured prayer upon his lips, with the 
 eyes of admiring and applauding comrades 
 gazing at him from the safe refuge of the walls, 
 he sprang suddenly to the swaying pole and, 
 lithe and agile, climbed swiftly to the top. 
 Madly now the Mausers cracked from the 
 belfry. Fiercely the Springfields barked their 
 answer as the cheering lads in blue sprang out 
 into the open and poured rapid volleys to keep 
 down the rebel fire. Clamping the pole with 
 his sinewy legs and using both hands, deftly, 
 quickly he drew together and firmly fastened 
 the severed ends. Then, just as he was about 
 to slide to the ground and out of harm's way, 
 zip! tore a bullet through the other w-ire, and 
 down, dangling, it fell to the ground. Inspired 
 by the heroism of his young chief, the soldier 
 below leaped for the wire and, clambering part 
 way up. i^assed it to the lad who, with clinched 
 teeth and pallid lips clung to his post at the 
 top. Another minute of desperate peril and 
 
284 THE MANILA WIRE. 
 
 the work was done. Cheered to the echo by the 
 few soldiers — an oflicer and perhaps a dozen 
 men — who saw the gallant deed, the brave lad 
 slid unharmed to the shelter of the wall, and at 
 last the wire hummed with life again and bore 
 to division headquarters and to an eager nation 
 thousands of miles across the sea the brief, 
 stirring story of sweeping victory from the 
 distant front. 
 
 And that was the exploit that led, not long 
 after, to the recommendation that the coveted 
 medal of honor be awarded Lieutenant Charles 
 E. Kilbourne of the Volunteer Signal Corps 
 on duty at Manila. 
 
BETRAYED BY A BUTTON. 
 
 Lieutenant Harry Weston was but a trirte 
 over twenty-one the day lie was graduated 
 from West Point, and the first thing he did 
 on reaching home was to file his application 
 for Companionship in the Military Order of 
 the Loyal Legion of the United States by right 
 of inheritance from his father. Not only that, 
 but he had what his brother lieutenants of like 
 grade called the "gall" to ask a distinguished 
 major general of the regular army — once the 
 commander of the crack division of the cavalry 
 corps of the Army of the Potomac — to be his 
 sponsor in baptism, and the General promptly 
 acceded. "Your father was one of the best sol- 
 diers I ever had the honor to command," said 
 he. "and I am proud to see his son coming to 
 take his place in the Order." 
 
j86 betravkd by a button. 
 
 I'^ill i)f years and honors, Colonel Weston 
 had died twelve months before. There was 
 no delay in proving- Lieutenant Harry's title, 
 and at the October meeting he was duly in- 
 stalled and l)ecame proud possessor of the 
 beautiful insignia to be worn on his full dress 
 uniform, and of the long coveted button to 
 adorn the left lapel of his civilian dress. 
 
 Envious fellow subs, whose fathers had not 
 fought in the great war for the preservation of 
 the Union, sought to guy Harry Weston on 
 this button business, but he took it all serenely. 
 He sent to the troop tailor such of his coats, 
 old and new, as were not provided with a but- 
 ton hole in the left lapel, to have them duly 
 finished in order that when in civilian dress he 
 might never appear without the button of 
 which he was so justly proud. Then he laid in a 
 stock of these buttons, so that his evening dress, 
 frock, cutaway and tweed suits should each be 
 sure of the adornment, and only smiled when 
 Lieutenant Bob Broker asked him if his night- 
 shirt was not to be similarly decorated. Broker, 
 by the way, was of the opinion that Congress 
 had made a thundering blunder in authorizing 
 the wearing of these medals and all such frum- 
 
BETRAYED BV A BLTTUN. 287 
 
 perv. It was utterly unrepublican. said he. It 
 was an imitation of the effete monarchy sys- 
 tem of tlie old world, by gosh. But then 
 Broker's people had contended themselves with 
 fattening on contracts during the War of the 
 Rebellion, and they do not seem to have had 
 any local habitati(jn in the previous entangle- 
 ments of the nation. 
 
 Weston had a neat little income outside his 
 pay. for his soldier father had left him fairly 
 well to do in the world, and another thing that 
 provoked the envious comment of just a few 
 of his associates was that, soon after joining 
 the troop, he set up a \ery well appointed dog 
 cart. Broker said it was incomplete without 
 the tiger behind and the girl by his side. As 
 l>etween the lady and the tiger Weston did not 
 long hesitate. He had no use for the latter, 
 but all the girls in the garrison had their airing 
 on the cart. It was his intention to be very 
 general in his attentions. He wished to be 
 C(»urteous and cordial t(j all without singling 
 any one of their number as the object of espe- 
 cial devotion, but these are matters far more 
 often regulated for a fellow than by him. 
 And so it happened to Weston. 
 
288 BETRAYED BY A BUTTON. 
 
 They were stationed that first winter after 
 his graduation at a dehghtful old post in the 
 southwest, and tourists innumerable w-ere ac- 
 customed to stop there and spend several days 
 at the hotel, whose broad verandas and plash- 
 ing fountains and sunshiny court were attrac- 
 tions in themselves, let alone the fact that the 
 table was excellent, and, as per advertisement, 
 "The afternoons and evenings are enlivened by 
 the music of the splendid band of the Twelfth 
 Cavalry and the presence of the accomplished 
 officers of that gallant regiment." It was only 
 an hour's easy trot from the flag staff of the 
 garrison to that in front of the Alcazar. The 
 guests of the hotel drove out to hear the band 
 and see parade at sunset at the post, and the 
 officers and ladies from the post would drive 
 in to hear the same band and chat with the 
 same people and stroll about the verandas, if 
 they were elderly, or dance in the great parlors 
 if they were not, until late hours every even- 
 ing. 
 
 Along in March came the gayest party of the 
 winter. Mr. and Mrs. Minturn, Jack Min- 
 turn, Jr., and five of the prettiest girls ever 
 seen at the hotel or the fort beyond, and the 
 
BETRAYED BY A BLTTON. 289 
 
 [•rettiest oi these was Stella \'an Alen, first 
 cousin of the two Minturn sisters, and they 
 hadn't been there forty-eight hours before Mr. 
 Harry ^\'eston's cavalry uniform and Miss 
 \'an Alen's exquisite Guthamite toilets were in 
 juxtaposition every afternoon and evening. It 
 was a sight worth seeing to w^atch those two 
 young people at waltz or two-step. It was 
 prettier still to see them ride off together, for 
 the New York girls had brought their habits, 
 feeling well assured that "mounts" would not 
 be lacking. Before the end of the week the 
 two were inseparable, and Miss Van Alen's 
 girl friends w^ere teasing the life out of her. 
 
 '"It is nothing at all." she indignantly pro- 
 tested. "Mr. Weston and I are the best of 
 friends, and that's all there is to it or ever will 
 be." That she was in love w^ith him or he 
 with her was something she indignantly 
 scouted. 
 
 .Mas I One evening, — the evening before 
 they were to go on westward to the Pacific, — 
 a merry party drove out to the fort for a hop 
 to be given in their honor. Never mind the 
 details of the hop. Mr. Weston wore civilian 
 evening dress instead of uniform that night. 
 
290 BETRAYED BY A BUTTON. 
 
 as he had dined with the Minturns at the Al- 
 cazar before the dance began. It is of the 
 homeward flitting that we have to tell. It 
 was a dark, moonless night, and as people were 
 being bundled into the waiting carriages and 
 ambulances, lo, there was Weston's dog cart, 
 and Miss Van Alen. demure and silent, was 
 quickly lifted to her seat; the lieutenant sprang 
 up beside her and away they went. Mrs. Min- 
 turn, chaperon, might have been supposed to 
 object, but she said nothing — This perhaps 
 was army style. 
 
 It was one o'clock when the party reached 
 the Alcazar, and i :io before the dog cart came 
 flashing in under the electric light. ''IV here 
 have you been? JVhat has kept you?" were 
 the queries. 
 
 "Miss Van Alen's handkerchief flew away 
 and I was some time finding it," was Weston's 
 answer, as he lifted his silent partner carefully 
 to the ground. "See you all in the morning. 
 Good-night." he said and vanished. 
 
 And then Miss \''an Alen slipped by .the 
 party and rushed for her room. Thither fol- 
 lowed her cousins. 
 
 "Now. Stella, confess," was Miss Minturn's 
 
BETRAYED BY A BUTTON. 2()l 
 
 ejaculation, as with beaming eyes and glowing 
 cheeks she caught her cnisin by the elbows. 
 
 "Confess what? What on earth have I to 
 confess?" 
 
 "That ytni and Harry Weston are engaged 
 — or will be — just as soon as Guardy's permis- 
 sion can be obtained." 
 
 "What nonsense you're talking". Belle Min- 
 turn! There's nothing between us beyond — 
 beyond jolly good fellowship." 
 
 "There isn't? And yet you've had your pre- 
 cious head on his shoulder within the last ten 
 minutes." 
 
 "Belle Minturn ! What an outrageous thing 
 to say! I — 1 have — " 
 
 "Hush-sh — Stop right there, Stella. Don't 
 tell a fib when the evidence is dead against you. 
 Come right here to the mirror and look and 
 tell me what that means?" 
 
 And "that" was a circular indentation in the 
 soft and glowing cheek, with little folds within 
 its periphery, and all just the exact imprint of 
 a Loyal Legion button. 
 
 And then Stella, confused, confounded, but 
 blushingly and deliciously happy, threw herself 
 into her cousin's arms and confessed out and 
 
292 BETRAYED BY A BUTTON. 
 
 out. Of course they were engaged, only it 
 had only been settled that night, and they 
 thought best to say nothing until after Harry 
 had seen Mr. Minturn in the morning. 
 
 However, girls, if you prefer not to be 
 caught in this way, better see to it that your 
 Harry takes that button out for the time being 
 or else — vou take the other side. 
 
GENERAL CHARLES KING. 
 
GEN. CHARLES KING. 
 
 By FO RREST CR ISigF.Y, 
 
 First meetings with novelists are often dis- 
 appointing. The failure of the maker of 
 stories personally to fulfill the expectations of 
 the interested layman, is probably most fre- 
 quently due to the fact that the latter has, in 
 some measure, imputed to the creator the qual- 
 ities of the creation, unconsciously looking to 
 find in the novelist the charms with which he 
 has invested some striking character in the 
 pages of his romance. 
 
 No such disappointment, however, awaits 
 any reader of Gen. King's stories who may be 
 fortunate enough personally to meet the cele- 
 brated soldier-novelist. The best traits of 
 character in the bravest heroes which he has 
 pictured in his marvelous stories of frontier 
 chivalrv. are instantlv in be discerned in his 
 
294 GEN. CHARLES KING. 
 
 face by the stranger who has lived with the 
 heroes of his creating. 
 
 The miHtary side of Gen. King's character 
 is so dominant that it is difficult to realize, 
 while in his presence, the fact that he belongs 
 to the literary cult. He looks a soldier, and 
 he is a soldier. If anything can be added to 
 this description by way of bringing the per- 
 sonality more vividly before the eyes of the 
 reader, it may be said that the most stirring 
 act of heroism described in any story he has 
 written is more than paralleled by his life as a 
 soldier. 
 
 The records have it that Gen. King was born 
 fifty-five years ago, but there is not a line in 
 his countenance or his figure which would ap- 
 pear remotely to confirm this statement. He 
 is erect, active and alert, and is more frequently 
 thought to be under forty-five years of age than 
 over fifty. No observant stranger who chanced 
 to pass him upon the street would fail to rec- 
 ognize him as a military man. He is to-day 
 as fond of athletic sports as when he was a 
 leader of his associates in the stirring pastimes 
 into which he entered with all the dash, energy 
 and devotion of a potential soldier when in 
 
GEN. CHARLKS KING. 295 
 
 training: -it West Point. Although he still 
 maintains an unfaltering loyalty to the horse, 
 and is never so happy as when in the saddle, he 
 is an enthusiastic wheelman. 
 
 The old saying that blood is thicker than 
 water is strikingly exemplified in the character 
 of Gen. King. And it is scarcely possible to 
 understand his individuality or to account ior 
 the remarkable versatility of his gifts without 
 a glance at the sturdy American stock from 
 which he is descended. His great-grandfather 
 was Hon. Rufus King, one of the first of the 
 distinguished line of statesmen which New 
 York has sent to the United States Senate. The 
 name of this ancestor of the soldier-author is 
 signed tn the Constitution, and his services in 
 assisting to frame that historic document, and 
 in shaping the destinies of New York State 
 from the foundation of that commonwealth, 
 were recognized by the highest gifts which the 
 Empire State could bestow. He was twice se- 
 lected as Minister of the United States to Eng- 
 land. Charles King, grandfather of the sub- 
 ject of this sketch, was one of the earliest 
 presidents of rolunibia ri.lleire. and recognized 
 
296 GEN. CHARLES KING. 
 
 as a bright scholar of rare intellectual gifts and 
 attainments. 
 
 In the father of Gen. King were found the 
 military and the scholarly traits which obtain 
 in his son. for Rufus King, the second, was 
 both a miltary and an intellectual leader. His 
 rare (|ualifications in the latter field were rec- 
 ognized by his appointment as Minister to the 
 Pontifical States at Rome, a position demand- 
 ing peculiar endowments of personal tact, 
 poise and grace, together with ripe culture and 
 a broad knowledge of affairs. On the occa- 
 sion of his departure for this important post 
 the Civil War broke out. Mr. King immedi- 
 ately resigned his appointment and retraced 
 his steps to Wisconsin, where he assisted in 
 the organization of Wisconsin's Brigade. 
 
 He was among the first of President Lin- 
 coln's appointments as Brigadier-General. He 
 was also proprietor and editor of the Milwau- 
 kee Sentinel, and wielded a strong influence 
 in the politics of Wisconsin. The great In- 
 dian apostle, John Eliot, was the head, in 
 America, of the distinguished family of which 
 Gen. Charles King's mother was a member. 
 
 With so remarkable an ancestry, it does not 
 
GEN. CHARLES KING. 297 
 
 appear strange that (Jen. King has reached a 
 high place as soldier, author and scholar. 
 
 His first plunge into soldier life was made 
 when a lad of sixteen years. He had been in 
 New York City in attendance at the prepara- 
 tory or grammar school connected with Co- 
 lumbia College, and had just passed his exam- 
 ination admitting him to the latter institution, 
 when the whole country was thrilled by the 
 echo of the guns at Fort Sumter. Instantly 
 his dreams of college days were forgotten, and 
 before another day had passed, after the Union 
 troops had begun to assemble in Washington, 
 his soldier blood was bounding in his veins 
 and he was on his way to the Capitol city. 
 There his father's old friends from the Badger 
 State were surprised to greet the face c^f the 
 boy in the camp of the Wisconsin volunteers. 
 
 It was plain to these veterans that the lad 
 had not come from idle curiosity, for his drum- 
 sticks were in his hand and his fingers itching 
 to play the reveille. This accomplishment im- 
 mediately gave him place and standing in the 
 regiment, atul he was kept bu.sy for some time 
 instructing others in the use of the drumstick. 
 
 He spee<lily became a favorite at hcad([uar- 
 
298 GEN. CHARLES KING. 
 
 ters and was promoted, in spite of his extreme 
 youth, to the position of mounted orderly, and 
 early in his active career as a soldier 
 sensed as guide for Gen. Winfield Scott 
 Hancock in Virginia. In the course of 
 his service the lad's abilities were brought 
 to the personal attention of President 
 Lincoln, who gave his promise that the boy 
 should be given a cadetship at West Point. 
 In pursuance of this pledge he was sent to the 
 United States Military Academy at West 
 Point, in June, 1862, was made first Sergeant 
 of Company B two years later, and Adjutant 
 of the Corps of Cadets in 1865. 
 
 An old companion has said of him, that in 
 those days of his training he was distinguished 
 by his sunny temper and the fact that, contrary 
 to the prevailing usages of the school, he never 
 failed to have a good w'ord for the down-trod- 
 den "plebe,'' and that he hated mathematics 
 as ardently as he loved rollicking fun and 
 reckless sport. 
 
 It is evident, however, that he must have 
 mastered his dislike for mathematics, as he 
 was graduated with the rank of Number 22 
 in a class of more than forty members. (Only 
 
GEN. CHARLES KING. 299 
 
 one oi liis classmates has thus far won any 
 notable distinction. This was the brave Will- 
 iam Preston Dixon, who lost his life in an at- 
 tempt to save a helpless woman at the time the 
 steamer Evening Star went down.) 
 
 Until September, 1866, King remained at 
 West Point in the capacity of instructor in 
 artillery. He left this position to become at- 
 tached to Batter\' K of the light artillery sta- 
 tioned at Xew Orleans. 
 
 His next remove was to Fort Hamilton, in 
 connection with Battery C. Then he was re- 
 called to West Point to instruct future officers 
 in the mysteries of horsemanship and cavalry 
 and artillery tactics. 
 
 In 1 87 1 he was appointed aide-de-camp to 
 General Emory, from which he was trans- 
 ferred to Troop K of the Fifth Cavalry, which 
 was then being removed from Fort D. A. Rus- 
 sel in Wyoming, to Camp Hualpai, Arizona. 
 How great a part his stay in Xew Orleans on 
 staff duty v.as to play in his life he little knew, 
 when he accepted the transfer as an incident 
 in the uncertainties of military life. It is now 
 alm( -t !mi.ii-vil)li- 1<> realize the social ostracism 
 
300 GEN. CHARLES KING. 
 
 to which officers of the Federal Army were 
 then subjected in the gay old city of the South. 
 
 His engaging manners, however, were suffi- 
 cient to win for him a circle of select friends 
 with whom he was well content. Among 
 these was the daughter of a Southern gentle- 
 man, Capt. Yorke, of Carroll Parish, Louisi- 
 ana. They had not long been acquainted 
 when the young officer learned that no repre- 
 sentative of the American army had entered 
 the great international race which was that 
 year the star event at the old Metairie track. 
 This opportunity appealed to his patriotism, 
 and he instantly decided to become the de- 
 fender in the contest of the United States 
 Army. His opponents were Count Victor 
 Crenneville, of the Austrian Hussars, Mr. Stu- 
 art, of England, Captain Rosenlecher, of 
 France, and Mr. Ross, late of the Inniskilling 
 Dragoons, who rode for Ireland. The prize 
 was a beautiful gold-mounted riding whip, but 
 the young Yankee lieutenant determined to 
 make the race for a greater stake than any of 
 the spectators knew. 
 
 From thousands of parasols in the gay as- 
 semblage fluttered the scarlet and white colors 
 
GEN. CHARLES KING. 3OI 
 
 of Austria, the red and blue of England, and 
 the green oi Ireland, but the skyblue and white 
 jacket which Lieutenant King wore in honor 
 of Columbia were not to be found in the wiiole 
 concourse, save by the most diligent search. 
 Only two of the spectators, the wife of Gen. 
 Emory and Miss Yorke, had the pluck to fly 
 the colors of the American contestant. 
 
 But races are not won with ribbons, and at 
 the end of the homestretch Lieut. King's horse 
 was the winner by two lengths. And he did 
 not fail of his larger stake, for he placed the 
 whip in the lap of the girl from Carroll Parish, 
 who became his wife before the succeeding 
 winter — a season which brought turbulent 
 scenes to the quaint old Southern city which 
 was rent with riots that gave the young offi- 
 cer severe and difficult training. 
 
 His next move was an important one, and 
 afforded him his introduction to the perils and 
 hardships of frontier Indian warfare. He 
 was assigned to the Fifth Cavalry in command 
 of Troop K, which did heroic service against 
 the Apaches, a tribe which sustained its repu- 
 tation for cruelty, cunning and courage. In 
 these desperate encounters he displayed the 
 
302 GEN. CHARLES KING. 
 
 coolness and indifference to danger which have 
 uniformly characterized his entire military 
 career. 
 
 In the fight at Diamond Butte, May 25, 
 1874, his bra\ ery was so conspicuous that his 
 recommendation for promotion to the rank of 
 captain was made by the commanding general. 
 It was a marvel to his comrades that he came 
 out of one fight after another without a scratch, 
 for no private in the ranks exposed himself 
 more persistently to the enemy that did the 
 leader of Troop K. 
 
 There were many doleful prophecies that 
 this exemption from Apache bullets could not 
 continue indefinitely, and the historic fight of 
 Sunset Pass, Nv>vember i, 1874, fulfilled these 
 imhappy predictions. In the midst of the en- 
 counter Lieutenant King found himself and 
 Sergeant Bernard Taylor cut off from his 
 troopers and the centre of a wicked fire from 
 the Apaches. It is not improbable that this 
 country would have missed one of its most en- 
 tertaining and typically American novelists, 
 had not a naked savage, hiding behind a rock, 
 sent a well-aimed bullet into the body of Lieu- 
 tenant King. LI is right arm was shattered 
 
GEN. CHARLES KING. 3O3 
 
 and he gave peremptory urder to Sergeant 
 Taylor to lea\e liim to his fate and save him- 
 self. This command the plucky Sergeant de- 
 liberately refused to obey, and standing over 
 the body of his fallen lieutenant, Taylor fought 
 back the Apaches until a detachment of ^roop- 
 ers came to the rescue. 
 
 The wound healed sufficiently to permit him 
 to engage in the celebrated Big Horn and Yel- 
 lowstone expedition, in which he added ma- 
 terially to his laurels, and was rewarded by 
 Gen. Wesley Merritt by appointment as ad- 
 jutant of the regiment. 
 
 A year later, in the fall of 1877, he was 
 again in the thick of the Xez Perces campaign, 
 and was earlier called to the scene of the rail- 
 road riots in Council Bluffs and Chicago. 
 
 His next experiences were in connection 
 with the Bannock uprising. This was fol- 
 lowed by more severe mountain scouting in 
 1878. Next year he had attained the rank of 
 Captain, and was in command of A Troop. 
 The old wound received at Sunset Pass had, 
 in time, given him constant and increasing 
 trouble, and at length became so serious that 
 it compelled him to appear before the 
 
304 GEN. CHARLES KING. 
 
 retiring Iward for permission to relin- 
 quish his active mihtary career. This peti- 
 tion was regretfully complied with, and he re- 
 tired from the service and returned to his 
 home in Wisconsin. 
 
 His knowledge of military affairs brought 
 him an appointment as instructor in the Uni- 
 versity of Wisconsin at Madison. He was 
 also selected by Governor Jeremiah Rusk to 
 act as Colonel and Aide-de-Camp in the state 
 military organization. 
 
 In 1895 he was appointed Adjutant-General 
 of Wisconsin, and in that capacity did much to 
 raise the militia of that state to its present high 
 standard. The outbreak of the war with 
 Spain in 1898 found him in better health than 
 he had enjoyed for many years, and stirred his 
 soldier blood as deeply as did the first call for 
 volunteers in '61. May 28th brought him his 
 appointment as Brigadier-General of Volun- 
 teers. He was ordered, June 2nd, to report to 
 Gen. Merritt, in San Francisco, and left for 
 that city two days later, taking later de- 
 parture for the Philippines, where he com- 
 manded the men of the First Washington, 
 First California and First Idaho regiments. 
 
GEN. CHARLES KING. 305 
 
 Gen. King confesses that he was never so 
 happy in his hfe as when leading these men 
 against the FiHpinos. His only regret is that 
 the return of ill health compelled his voluntary 
 retirement in August, 1899. When chatting 
 with callers, in his room on the third story of 
 one of the oldest office buildings in Milwaukee, 
 Gen. King resolutely refuses to be entrapped 
 into a literary conversation, and invariably re- 
 turns with soldierly enthusiasm to the topic of 
 the war in the Philippines, and grows eloquent 
 in the praise of the conduct of his "boys" from 
 the Xorthwest. Many of the latter, however. 
 have brought back stories of their commander 
 more enthusiastic, if possible, than those 
 which he relates of them. They tell of how he 
 thrice passed at the head of a portion of his 
 command over a certain bridge which marked 
 the division between the American and the 
 Filipino forces. How great is the marvel that 
 he came out of the engagement untouched, is 
 best indicated by a photograph which the 
 writer found lying on his desk, and which is 
 published in connection with this article. .-K 
 glance at this picture will slunv that the side 
 of the structure is literally pitted by bullet 
 
306 GEN. CHARLES KING. 
 
 marks. It was in the midst of this hailstorm 
 of lead from the insurgent ambush that Gen. 
 King passed over the bridge; three times he 
 deliberately subjected himself to this fire, while 
 his men were well-nigh speechless with amaze- 
 ment. A private who witnessed this superb 
 display of courage remarked to an American 
 newspaper correspondent : "That man will 
 never see the United States again." 
 
 On a shelf in Gen. King's workroom is the 
 worn and battered field-desk which he has car- 
 ried through his campaigns. In its pigeon- 
 holes is to be found the secret of his marvelous 
 accuracy in writing. A half dozen small 
 blank books of the ordinary commercial kind 
 are filled with entries, written in a minute, but 
 legible hand. These record the occurrences of 
 each day of his active, honest service, and pre- 
 sent concisely but vividly the impressions made 
 upon his mind at the moment by the stirring 
 scenes through which he has passed. 
 
 His first work when beginning a new novel 
 is to . consult these priceless records. It is 
 doubtful if there is another author who com- 
 poses more rapidly than Gen. King when once 
 he is inspired by a sympathetic theme. 
 
GEN. CHARLES KING. 307 
 
 While he emphatically disavows all literary 
 traditions, and declares that his labors in this 
 field are inspired solely by the motive of ''mak- 
 ing one woman happy" and giving his son and 
 daughters an education which would be impos- 
 sible by any other means within his command, 
 the strong human interests, the swift move- 
 ment, and the delicate sympathy and tender 
 pathos of his stories are sufficient proof of the 
 fact that his work is done with a genuine heart 
 interest, and not as a perfunctory task. 
 
 His methods of work are undoubtedly dif- 
 ferent from those of all other authors. After 
 a perusal of his note-books he writes his pages 
 in a short hand of his own and reads his stories 
 into a phonograph which is passed to an opera- 
 tor of the typewriter, who transcribes the rec- 
 ord of the cylinder. The sheets are then re- 
 turned to Gen. King for revision, but the dic- 
 tated manuscript is seldom changed to any 
 great extent. 
 
 "Between the Lines" and the "General's 
 Double" are Gen. King's favorites of the 
 scores of stories which he has given to the pub- 
 lic. His first story was "Kitty's Conquest," 
 and was written in the '70s. Its production 
 
308 GEN. CHARLES KING. 
 
 was then regarded by its author as a passing 
 whim, a pastime to relieve the monotony of an 
 officer's Hfe of a frontier post. This was pub- 
 lished in the United Sennce Magazine of Phil- 
 adelphia, and immediately attracted favorable 
 attention. The manuscript was carried in the 
 officer's luggage through the Nez Perces and 
 the Sioux campaigns, and shared the fate of 
 many another first literary effort in being re- 
 spectfully declined by one or two editors. 
 
 This initial story was followed in 1881 by 
 the stirring romance first called "Winning His 
 Spurs," but later issued in book-form as "The 
 Colonel's Daughter." Then Mr. Alden, the 
 venerable editor of Harpers' Magazine. 
 reached out for the work of the young military 
 novelist and secured the charming stories, "A 
 War-Time Wooing" and "Between the Lines." 
 
 It is generally supposed that the originals of 
 nearly all Gen. King's heroes w'ere men of the 
 famous old Fifth Cavalry, but this may be 
 denied on the authority of the author. Only 
 two or three of his characters were suggested 
 by the members of that command. 
 
 W^hen called to the war in the Philippines, 
 Gen. King was about to join his wife, son and 
 
GEN. CHARLES KIXG. 309 
 
 daughters in Europe. The son Rufus is now 
 seventeen years ui age. a bright, manly lad, 
 and the centre of his father's ambitions. The 
 daughter Elinor i.s the third of his children, 
 and a girl of rare beauty and attractiveness. 
 
 A fitting conclusion to this glimpse of the 
 soldier-novelist and his career is a reference to 
 a communication sent by Major-General 
 Thomas M. Anderson to the Adjutant-General 
 of the armies of the United States. This is 
 dated March i, 1899, and recommends the pro- 
 motion of Brigadier-General Charles King to 
 the rank of Major-General of Volunteers as a 
 reward for ''energy, bravery and efficiency" in 
 battle during the engagement with the Filipino 
 insurgents, February 5. 1899. 
 
 THE END. 
 
RETURN TO the circulation desk of any 
 University of California Library 
 
 or to the 
 
 NORTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 BIdg. 400, Richmond Field Station 
 University of California 
 Richmond, CA 94804-4698 
 
 ALL BOOKS MAY BE RECALLED AFTER 7 DAYS 
 
 • 2-month loans may be renewed by calling 
 (510)642-6753 
 
 • 1-year loans may be recharged by bringing 
 books to NRLF 
 
 • Renewals and recharges may be made 
 4 days prior to due date 
 
 DUE AS STAMPED BELOW 
 
 AUG 3 Z003 
 
 JUN 1 6 2005 
 
 DD20 15M 4-02 
 
CD41EDli7^