Uncle Sams Boys in the Philippines | Page 6

idea of walking all the way out to Malate in a downpour."
They were not quite over the bridge when the storm broke in all its force. Tropical thunder crashed with a fury that made artillery fire seem trifling. Great sheets of lightning flashed on all sides.
"Hustle, before we get drowned," laughed Sergeant Hal, breaking into a fast run. "There's shelter just beyond the end of the bridge."
The shelter for which both soldiers headed was a kiosk, barely larger than a sentry-box, that had once been erected for the convenience of the native boys who stood there with relief horses for the service of the old street car line.
The door stood open. Eager to make any port in a storm, Hal and Noll bolted inside just in time to hear an angry voice declare:
"I had them picked out--two young sergentes, mere boys. At first they were very polite--a minute later they made fun of me to my face--me, Vicente Tomba! But I shall know them again, I shall see them, and I shall make them wish they had never been born. I----"
The Filipino dandy stopped short as the two Army boys stepped briskly inside. He gave a gasp as he recognized them.
"We meet again," remarked Hal dryly.
The dandy's companion, a big, florid-faced man of forty, in the usual immaculate white duck of the white man, eyed the boys keenly.
CHAPTER II
A MEETING AT THE NIPA BARRACKS
It was only for a moment.
Then, without answering Hal's remark, the Filipino clutched at the white man's arm, shoving him out into the rain. The native followed.
Just then a cochero with an empty quilez drove up. With instant presence of mind Vicente Tomba, as the dandy had called himself, held up his hand.
It was all done in an instant, and native and white friend were driving away through the gusts of rain.
"Wonder who our friends are?" Noll remarked curiously.
"We know that one of them calls himself Vicente Tomba," replied Sergeant Hal.
"But he spoke of having us picked out for something, and he seemed almost peevish because we didn't suit him," smiled Noll.
"I can't imagine what it is," replied Hal, undisturbed. "It couldn't be anything in the high treason line, anyway."
"Why not even that?" demanded Sergeant Noll.
"Why, look here, old fellow, we're just two plain, kid, doughboy sergeants of the line. If that fellow had wanted anything in the treasonable variety, what sort of goods could we deliver him, anyway? Nothing, much, beyond our own arms and a copy of the company's roll."
"Then what on earth was the fellow up to, anyway?"
"I don't know, Noll, and I don't much care. I've heard that there are sharks of all sorts here in Manila, ready to put up all sorts of games to get the easy-mark soldier's pay away from him. Probably Tomba and his friend belong in that class."
"Pooh! Tomba has plenty of money," snorted Noll Terry. "He wouldn't have to be out for a poor, buck-foot soldier's pay."
"Swindlers sometimes do have plenty of money, for a while, until the law rounds them up and puts them where they ought to be," observed Sergeant Hal sagely. "Let's forget the fellow, Noll, unless we see him again. Tomba is evidently up to something crooked, and we're not, so we haven't any real interest in him, have we?"
"Except to be on our guard," said Noll.
"You speak as though you had some forebodings regarding Tomba, or Tomba and his friend," smiled Hal quizzically.
"Well, then, I have," returned Noll Terry.
"Not scared, are you?"
"That's a fine question to ask a soldier," sniffed Noll.
"Well, I'm not going to waste any more thoughts on Tomba, or on his white-man companion, either. Whee! Look at that rain. It----"
But a fearfully vivid flash of tropical lightning caused Sergeant Hal Overton to step further back into the little shed and close his eyes for an instant. Right after the flash came a prolonged, heavy roll of thunder that made the earth shake.
"Cochero, para!" shouted Noll right after that, and a fareless quilez stopped near the door of the shed.
"Occupado (occupied)?" called Noll.
"No, se?or."
Hal and Noll bolted through the rain, darted into the quilez through the door at the rear, and plumped themselves down on the seats.
"Sigue directio, Malate, cuartel nipa," ordered Hal, thus instructing the driver to go straight ahead to Malate and to take them to the nipa barracks.
The Filipino driver himself was drenched. In his thin cotton clothing the little brown man perched on the box outside, shivered until his teeth chattered. He did not propose, however, to let personal discomfort stop him from earning a fare.
Around the Walled City (Old Manila) the quilez carried the young soldiers. These massive walls, centuries old, enclose perhaps a square mile of city. Once past the Walled City the little vehicle glided on through pretty Ermita. Here, passing along Calle