No more was said, and soon the cart was on its way to the capital. Hardly a mile was covered when they came upon Jerry Nickerson, sitting on the wreck of the fancy cart, the picture of misery and despair. Broken bits of harness lay on the ground, and the ponies were nowhere in sight. Nickerson had had his left hand cut, and had the member bound up in his handkerchief. “They tried to take a stone wall, hang ’em!” he explained to Gilbert. “The cart’s a wreck, and so’m I. Where’s Nuggy?” “Safe,” answered the young lieutenant. “If you don’t want to stay here all night, you had better hop up behind.” “But the busted cart--?” “You had better attend to the cart and the ponies in the morning.” Nickerson wished, in drunken style, to argue the matter; but the young lieutenant was in no humor to listen to such a beast, and ordered the Tagal to drive on. Seeing this, Nickerson scrambled up behind, threw himself beside Nuggy Polk, and was soon snoring lustily. The Hotel for American Gentlemen was reached without further incident; and, having had the Tagal drive into the court-yard, Gilbert interviewed the clerk, and had the two sleeping ones transferred to the rooms they had previously occupied. “Can you tell me who this Jerry Nickerson is?” asked the young lieutenant of the clerk at the desk. “I cannot, excepting that he seems to be a close friend to Mr. Polk,” was the reply. “How long have the pair been at the hotel?” “About ten days.” “And what vessel are they going to take for China?” “The _Orient_. But she sails at nine o’clock to-morrow morning, and I doubt if they awake in time to go on board,” concluded the clerk. As far as he was concerned, he did not wish the two guests to catch the steamship. They had paid well for their accommodations, and he felt inclined to have them remain with him as long as possible. Having seen to it that the Tagal owning the cart had been paid for bringing the two young men to Manila, Gilbert took his pony back to the livery stable, and then made his way to the barracks. He had not learned a great deal concerning the Richmond Importing Company, yet he had gathered sufficient information to set him to thinking deeply. “Those Polks are rascals beyond a doubt,” he said to himself. “But there is a big difference between knowing a thing and being able to prove it. I hope, when I get to China, that I shall have a chance to hunt up Mr. Bartlett and to watch what Nuggy Polk does.” It was late when the young lieutenant turned in; and, as the pony ride had made him tired, he slept soundly, and did not awaken until the roll of the drum aroused him. Dressing hastily, he stepped out to the parade ground in front of the barracks.