"Shoot him where he lies," said two of the party, and one raised his rifle for that purpose.
"Don't, you inhuman brute!" protested Ben. "That is not war; it is murder!"
"Let him be as he is," said the leader of the sharpshooters. "If he lives, very well; if not, it will not matter. Come!" And he ordered Ben on, raising his rifle as he spoke. The young captain wished to protest, and even offered to carry Gilmore himself; but the Tagals would not listen, and so he had to move on, leaving his injured companion to his fate.
CHAPTER IV
A MEETING IN A NIPA HUT
Ben wondered where he was to be taken, but his captors remained silent on the subject, and at last threatened to shoot him on the spot if he did not stop asking questions.
The trail led in the direction of the Pasig River, and as the party proceeded the ground became more and more sloppy, until all were wading in water up to their ankles. Meanwhile the downpour of rain continued, soaking the party to the skin. It was a cold rain calculated to strike one's very backbone, and made the young captain shiver.
At last, when Ben was coming to the conclusion that they were bound directly for the Laguna de Bay, the leader of the party made a turn to the southward. Here there had once been an extensive rice field, but this was now torn up and abandoned. Beyond the field, backed by a small growth of palm trees, was a nipa hut with several bamboo sheds surrounding it. The course was straight for the nipa hut, and Ben was told to halt before it. Then the leader of the sharpshooters disappeared inside the structure.
The young captain suspected that the hut was a sort of headquarters for the sharpshooters, and in this he was right, for presently the leader of the party returned, followed by a Tagal wearing the uniform of a captain. The latter ordered the American into the hut, and Ben entered.
It was a low, dingy affair, dirty to the last degree, the ceiling covered with soot and the floor overrun with vermin. In the centre of the single apartment which it contained was a rude table, surrounded by several chairs, while in one corner rested some boxes of ammunition, and in another a few army stores.
The Filipino captain spoke broken English and seemed rather a good kind of a fellow. With a profound bow he invited Ben to take a seat.
"You have come in one big rain, capitan," he began. "You should have taken some better weather for your trip to our camp," and he smiled broadly.
"Thank you, but I didn't expect to come so far," returned Ben, rather amused at the show of humor, which is generally lacking in the average Tagal.
"I understand it must be so. But now you are with us, and it is raining so hard, you will not object to remaining?"
"I suppose I'll have to stay," said Ben, bluntly.
"Why put the matter so harshly, capitan? I will count you as my guest."
"If you will count me as a guest, do me a favor."
"Anything I can do I will do gladly."
"Then send some men back for my companion."
"What was the trouble with him?"
"He fell on the rocks and hurt his back."
"That is truly unfortunate, capitan. But it would do small good for me to send back for him. Our hospital camps are already overcrowded—not one could take him in."
"He will die if left alone, without food or drink, and in this weather."
At this the Filipino captain shrugged his lean shoulders. "That must be his affair—not mine. But you may be mistaken. He may crawl back to his friends."
Ben shook his head slowly. He pitied Gilmore from the bottom of his heart. Yet a glance at the face of the individual before him told him that to argue the matter further would be useless.
"A portion of your army is pushing this way, I believe?" went on the Filipino commander, slowly, and fixing his black eyes full upon the young officer.
"My comrade and I were pushing this way."
The Filipino frowned. Ben saw that he was now ready to throw aside his mask and get down to business. "You were spies?"
"I must decline to answer further questions, sir."
"You were spies, sent to find out our strength?" continued the Filipino.
Ben remained silent.
"Are you going to answer, or will you take the consequences, capitan?"
"I have nothing further to say."
"But I will make you talk!" cried the rebel, his voice rising. "I have never yet been balked, either by Spaniards or Americanos. Do you know who I am? I am Captain Relosus."
At the mention of that name Ben could not help but start, for he had heard it many times before. Captain Relosus was one of the leading sharp-shooters and spies among the Tagals, and it was known that he had been in Manila more than once, on secret missions for General Aguinaldo. It was Relosus who aided in the conspiracy to burn down the capital, and it was also this man who had, on three different occasions, persuaded American soldiers to desert from the ranks and throw in their fortunes with the insurgents.
"You are the noted Captain Relosus, he who escaped from Manila but a few weeks ago?" questioned Ben, slowly, hardly knowing what else to say.
"The same, and I am glad you know of me, capitan, for you now understand with whom you have to deal. I allow nothing and nobody to stand in my way." Captain Relosus drew himself up to his full height of five feet four inches. "When I ask a question it must be answered."
Again there was a pause, and each captain looked the other squarely in the face. Ben saw that the man before him was an equal mixture of shrewdness, conceit, dandyism, and brutal stubbornness—a combination due to his mixed Spanish, Tagalog, and Malayan blood. He was a man who might be easily coaxed, but never driven.
Noting all this, Ben forced a smile to his face. "Captain, you are a wonderful man. Your escape from the city is the talk of the town. How ever did you accomplish it?"
"Ha! ha! I fooled the Americano guards nicely, did I not? So they talk about it, eh? Well, let them talk, they will never find out how it was done."
"You seem to go and come at your will."
"And why not? Have we not many friends still in Manila? If you knew the truth you would be surprised. Some day General Otis—" He broke off short. "Bah, I am talking too much, when it is you who must speak. Answer me, does your General Lawton command at the waterworks now?"
"I am sure you know everything, Captain Relosus, so what is the use for me to speak? I imagine you know more than I do, for I came from San Isidro but a few days ago."
"Ha! General Lawton was at San Isidro, I know that, and if you were with him and are now here, he must be here too." The Tagal captain grated his teeth. "We shall meet, and I will kill him!" he muttered in his native dialect. "And I will kill General Otis, too!"
"I should like to know what is to be done with me," said Ben, after another pause, during which the rebel began to pace the floor.
"What do I care what becomes of you, capitan? You have played your game and lost, and I must look ahead. One thing is sure—you shall not go back; have no fear on that score."
"But you will treat me as a prisoner of war?"
The rebel shrugged his shoulders. "What do you mean by that? When Santa Cruz was taken by