"You are both certain that the man is Tomba?" inquired Captain Cortland keenly. "Yes, sir," both young sergeants declared, and Hal added: "There's Corporal Hyman up forward, sir. If you'll go up and speak to the corporal, and allow us to accompany you, sir, you can see whether Hyman knows the fellow. He, too, was approached by Tomba, at the nipa barracks." Accordingly the test was made. "Why, certainly, the fellow is Tomba," replied Hyman, "though he looks a lot different, sir, from the dandy who was talking to me last Tuesday night." Captain Cortland asked all three of the non-commissioned officers some further questions as they stood there. None of the quartette discovered the fact that, close to them, crouching under the canvas cover of a life boat as it swung at davits, lay one of the keen-eyed Filipino passengers. This swarthy little fellow was only about half versed in English, but he understood enough of the talk to realize what was in the wind. In some mysterious manner what this swarthy little spy overheard traveled, less than an hour later, to Mr. Draney, planter, and that gentleman, as he sat in his stateroom and thought it all over, was greatly disturbed. Still later that afternoon--not long before sundown--while the "Warren" was still ploughing her way through the sea, the little brown spy drew Vicente Tomba to one side in the native steerage. To make assurance doubly sure, both Filipinos spoke in their own Malay dialect, the Tagalos. "Tomba!" "Luis?" "Tomba, the Senor Draney is greatly disturbed. Sergeant Overton and Sergeant Terry have recognized him as one whom they saw with you in Manila." "Bah! That amounts to little. Senor Draney can deny." "But they have recognized you also, my Tomba, and so has Corporal Hyman. More, they have told Captain Cortland all they know, and all they can guess." "The dogs!" growled Vicente Tomba, his snarl showing his fine, white teeth. "You do well to call them dogs," grinned Luis. "Senor Draney bids me to remind you what becomes of dogs that are troublesome. You have others here with you who can help. At the first chance, then, Overton, Terry and Hyman are to bite the bone that kills--and Captain Cortland, too, if you can manage it!" CHAPTER IV CERVERRA'S INNOCENT SHOP "D'ye know what I'm thinking about?" demanded Private Kelly, as he turned to look out southward from Fort Benjamin Franklin. "Not being a mind reader--no," replied Hal. "I'm thinking this country is a fine place to dream about." "It's worth it," declared Sergeant Overton, with unsullied boyish enthusiasm. "Worth it--huh!" retorted Kelly, who had served longer in the Army. "Mind ye, I said this was a good country to dream about. But to live in--give me 'God's country.'" The United States soldier on foreign service, invariably alludes to home in this way. Send him to the fairest spot on which the human eye ever rested, and the soldier will still longingly speak of home as "God's country."