CHAPTER IX
NEWS COMES OF THE UPRISING
Five officers of the garrison at Fort Franklin had assembled in the postcommander's office, at eight o'clock the next morning, and awaited thearrival of Lieutenant Ray, who was still, for a matter of another hour,to be officer of the day.
Nor did Ray keep his brother officers waiting more than a moment. Thenhis brisk step was heard on the shell road outside, followed by hissudden entrance into the office.
But behind him came two soldiers of the guard, dragging between them aninsignificant-looking little Filipino who seemed thoroughly terrorstricken.
"How's Tomba this morning, Ray?" inquired Captain Cortland, wheelingabout. "And who is this prisoner?"
"This, sir," declared Ray, in a tone that quivered with disgust, "is allthat is left to us of Tomba!"
"But this isn't Vicente Tomba at all."
"I know it, sir."
"Explain yourself, Ray."
"Why, Captain, I have just made an inspection of prisoners at the guardhouse. Huddled in the back of the cell where I personally put Tomba lastnight crouched this shivery little object, looking as if he expected tobe called upon to face a firing squad."
Captain Cortland had leaped to his feet, looking mightily concerned.
"But, Mr. Ray, where is Tomba?"
"I wish with all my heart that I knew, sir," replied the officer of theday, even more disturbed than his superior. "Last night I put Tomba inthe cell and turned the key in the lock myself. Then I turned the keyover to the sergeant of the guard. When I found Tomba missing, and thisworthless object in his place, I made an investigation. The sergeant ofthe guard declared that the key had not been out of his pocket since Igave it to him."
"Who is sergeant of the guard?"
"Sergeant Jones, C Company, sir."
"And Jones is as honest, capable and energetic a man as we have in CCompany," spoke up Captain Freeman, in defense of his sergeant.
"Have there been any visitors at the guard house this morning, Ray?"demanded Captain Cortland. "Especially, any native visitors?"
"Yes, sir; so Sergeant Jones informs me. You know, sir, it has beenpermitted that native prisoners be allowed to have their friends comeand bring them their native food and coffee."
"I know," nodded Captain Cortland. "But that rule, gentlemen, is revokedfrom this minute. Thanks to that rule Tomba has gotten away from us."
"I hope you don't suspect Sergeant Jones, Cortland," interposed CaptainFreeman. "Because, if you do, I'm satisfied that you're doing thesergeant an injustice."
"I don't suspect your sergeant, Freeman. I am more to blame than any oneelse, for having allowed the old rule of my predecessor here to remainin force. Quite a group of natives came, eh, Ray?"
"Seven or eight of them, sir."
"Exactly," nodded Cortland, "and this wretched little half-price nativewas one of them. He was brought along on purpose. Probably he wasthreatened with having his throat cut if he didn't do what he was toldby the scoundrels. Then, while some of the natives were passing food anddrink through the bars to Tomba and the prisoners, Jones must have hadhis attention attracted."
"Sergeant Jones remembers that he was called to the guard-house door foran instant," interjected Lieutenant Ray.
"Exactly, Ray, and at the same time a light-fingered native slipped acunning brown hand into the sergeant's pocket and the key was taken. Thecell door was swiftly unlocked, this native stole in, and Vicente Tombastole out. Friends swiftly slipped Tomba one or two articles of clothingwith which to help disguise himself. Then the whole party filed quicklyout, and by this time Vicente Tomba is headed for the mountains andgoing fast."
"But Sergeant Jones found the key in his pocket, sir, when I asked himfor it."
"Certainly, Ray. The little brown man who was clever enough to pick thepocket of the sergeant of the guard found it even less trouble to returnthe key."
"Cerverra didn't get away, anyway," muttered Lieutenant Ray, who hadgrown suddenly tired and careworn in appearance.
"Undoubtedly that's because Tomba is of more importance to the Moroplotters than Cerverra. Besides, Cerverra owns property here, and hecan't well afford to be a fugitive from justice."
"What shall I do with this little wretch of a substitute, sir?" queriedthe officer of the day.
"Have you questioned this prisoner?"
"Yes, sir, and not a word will he say. He only shakes his head andpretends that he cannot understand a word of English or Spanish."
"Then take him back and lock him in the same cell," instructed the postcommander. "Keep him there until he does talk."
"Very good, sir."
Barely had Lieutenant Ray reentered the guard house when two shotssounded on the road toward Bantoc.
"What's that? Trouble starting?" demanded Captain Freeman, darting tothe door and listening.
"It may be only a shooting affray, but we must soon know," repliedCaptain Cortland.
All of the officers save Ray were now out on the veranda of thebuilding.
Two more shots sounded, close together. Then came a light volley,sounding lighter still.
"It may be that Sergeant Terry is having trouble in town," mutteredCaptain Cortland, wholly alert in a second. "In any case we must letthese Moros see a show of military force. Freeman, detail thirty of yourmen and let Lieutenant Holmes march them into Bantoc in quick time. Eachman to carry fifty rounds of ammunition."
"Very good, sir.
"Lieutenant Holmes, you will go first of all to Cerverra's shop, unlessthe firing seems to be in another direction. But remember that iftrouble breaks loose we will take care of it from here, and that youressential orders are not changed until you receive them from me, or fromyour company commander."
"Very good, sir," replied young Holmes, saluting.
Freeman and his second lieutenant hurried away to execute the orderswithout loss of time.
At the sound of the shots many of the men from barracks had run out intothe street to see if they could find any explanation of the hostilesounds.
"Second platoon, C Company, fall in!" rang the order, repeated three orfour times.
That caught several of the curious ones in the street, calling them tothe parade ground.
Acting First Sergeant Hal Overton, B Company, was among those in thestreet. And he was the first to catch sight of a horse coming up theroad at a wavering gallop.
"We'll soon know," the Army boy called to those nearest him. "This lookslike a messenger coming."
The man who was astride the horse, and who was attired in white duckblouse and trousers, was bending forward over the neck of the animal.
"Second platoon, fall in!" rang Greg Holmes's command on the paradeground, showing how quickly military orders may be carried out.
"The messenger is bleeding," cried Hal. "I can see the stains on hiswhite clothing. And the horse has been hit, too!"
"Trouble with a big 'T,'" muttered Private Kelly.
Sergeant Hal said no more. He walked quickly down the road as horse andrider drew nearer. The mount was running more feebly now. Fifty feetaway from the young sergeant the animal pitched suddenly, staggered,then fell.
For an instant it looked as though the rider would also be stretched inthe dust. Then he recovered, leaped painfully away from the horse--andjust then Hal Overton reached and caught him.
"Shall I carry you, friend?" demanded the Army boy, for the stranger wasa white man, doubtless an American.
At the stranger's belt hung a holster, the flap unbuttoned. He waswild-eyed and breathing hard, but there was no sign of cowardice in theman's sternly set face.
Bloodstains showed over three wounds in the trunk of his body. The rightshoulder, also, had been touched.
"I can walk--but give me your arm," gasped the wounded man. "Take me toyour commanding officer!"
Hal started, but had not far to go, for Captain Cortland was comingforward on the run.
"Take that man to the porch of barracks," called the
captain, whose eye,practised in wounds, saw much. "Don't make him walk far."
Kelly sprang to Hal's aid. Between them they lifted the wounded strangerto a seat on their arms. The man put his arms about their necks, andthus they conveyed him to a broad armchair on the porch.
"My man, there, run for a hospital steward," shouted Captain Cortland.Then the post commander came to the wounded stranger.
Now that he found himself at the end of his journey the strangerappeared to lose rapidly the strength of his voice. He lay back in thechair, his eyes half closed.
"Where do you come from, friend?" asked Captain Cortland.
"The Seaforth Plantation."
"I know where the place is--twelve miles from here, in the interior,"answered the captain.
"Right," murmured the wounded one.
"Your name?"
"Edwards. I'm bookkeeper and correspondent for Mr. Seaforth."
"Platoon fours right, march!" sounded from the parade ground.
Edwards heard the command, then the steady whump-whump of the feet ofmarching men. The wounded man turned in his chair and gazed at thedetachment marching away in quick time behind Lieutenant Holmes.
"You act quickly, Captain," murmured Edwards gratefully.
"Those men are marching to Bantoc to keep order in the town," repliedCaptain Cortland. "Tell me, as quickly as you can, what is wrong atSeaforth's."
"We were attacked just before daylight this morning," Edwards repliedweakly.
"In force?" pressed the post commander.
"Just at a guess there must have been two or three hundred of the Malayfiends."
"Any of the defending party killed?"
"Not when I left, Captain. But four of our native Moro laborers wereshot dead before they could reach the main house. The main house wasbeing defended by Seaforth when I left."
"How many white men there?"
"Seaforth, his son, his superintendent and a blacksmith."
"They all escaped into the house at the attack?"
"Yes."
"Any natives helping Seaforth in the defense?"
"Yes; eight of the most trusted Moro workmen. But, Captain, you nevercan tell when you can trust any of these natives."
"I know," murmured Cortland, nodding his head.
At this moment the hospital steward arrived on the run, carrying a caseof instruments, bottles and bandages. There was no surgeon-officer atFort Franklin, the post commander being compelled to rely, at need, on aGerman physician in Bantoc.
"Get right to work, steward," ordered Captain Cortland. "And I mustquestion this man while you work over him. Edwards, are there anyAmerican women at Seaforth's?"
"Three."
"Good heavens!" uttered the captain, paling.
"Mrs. Seaforth, the superintendent's wife, and Miss Daly, the schoolteacher."
"How did you get away?"
"The Moros didn't appear to be in force on the side toward the stable,and I wriggled through in the dark, traveling flat on my stomach. Ireached a horse at the stable, saddled fast, and then galloped away justas the Moros turned loose a volley that covered the noise of the horse'shoofs."
Edwards's voice was becoming much weaker. He paused frequently betweenwords. The hospital steward, standing behind the wounded man, glanced upat Captain Cortland, shaking his head.
"Was the road infested with roving parties of guerillas?" inquiredCaptain Cortland.
"No, sir," replied the bookkeeper. "I didn't run into any trouble untilI reached Bantoc. The natives here must have known that the trouble wascoming, for concealed rascals fired on me just as I got alongside thetown. They wounded me and my horse."
The other officers, with the exception of the absent Lieutenant Holmes,were now at the porch, listening quietly.
"Freeman, I must keep the rest of your company here," explained CaptainCortland. "And Hampton, your duties here are such that I can't very wellspare you from post. So I shall have to send Lieutenant Prescott toSeaforth's. Lieutenant Prescott, assemble the company without aninstant's delay."
There was little need to speak of delay. Every soldier left on the postand not engaged in actual duty was as near to the spot as he could be,for all were interested in this latest news.
"Mr. Prescott, don't take the time to march your men to the paradeground. Assemble B Company right here. Pick out the sixty men you want.Sergeant Overton will help you. Take sixty men, two days' rations and ahundred and fifty rounds of cartridges per man. Take blankets, ponchosand shelter tents. Detail your men and be ready to march at the earliestpossible moment."
As the call for formation sounded Edwards uttered a fervent:
"Thank heaven!"
The hospital steward forced a draught of medicine down the wounded man'sthroat.
Quickly the sixty men were detailed, those who had been on sick reportlately, or those who for any other reason were unfitted for a long,swift march being rejected.
"Detachment, fall out," ordered Lieutenant Prescott. "Sergeant Overton,see to the equipping of the men for this hike. Don't let any man idleany time away. I'll soon be with you in barracks, for minutes may beinvaluable."
Edwards had fallen back once more, lying with his eyes closed. Thehospital steward, one hand on the wounded one's pulse, looked at CaptainCortland and shook his head.
"Mr. Edwards," called the captain.
There was no answer.
"Is he dead?" asked the post commander in a low voice.
"No, sir, but he is unconscious and there's only a feeble flutter at thepulse."
As if to prove that he was still conscious, Edwards's lips tried toframe the words:
"Thank heav----"
A sigh, and Edwards's head sank forward on his chest.
"He's gone, sir; there's no pulse," said the hospital steward.
Edwards's brave mission was ended. He had carried the word of danger toFort Franklin, but he could not live to see the relief or vengeancedetail set out.
As soon as it was certain that the bookkeeper had really ceased tobreathe, Captain Cortland had the hospital steward summon men, whocarried the remains away.
From the portion of the barracks allotted to B Company there came hardlya sound of unusual activity. Yet men were preparing for the "hike," asthe long, swift march is called, in record time.
"All ready in this room?" called Sergeant Hal at last.
A chorus of low-toned replies answered him.
"Tumble out, then, lively!"
An instant later the men hastened from other squad rooms. There was noflourish of bugles this time. At a quietly spoken word the sixty menfell in. Non-commissioned officers made a hasty inspection, whileCaptain Cortland and Lieutenant Prescott glanced up and down the linewith keen eyes.
"March your detachment, Lieutenant," directed Captain Cortland, a minutelater.
"Twos right, route step, quick time--_march_!" called LieutenantPrescott.
As one man they swung, and their feet were in motion. At the head of theline marched acting First Sergeant Overton, setting a stiff pace.
For an instant Prescott stood still, eying his men as they swept by.Then he ran to the head of the line, falling in beside the youngsergeant.
They were off on the Flag's business!