Hal felt almost staggered with the cheapness of things here, as compared with the curio stores in Manila. Forty dollars "Mex" meant but about twenty dollars in United States currency. "I have some cheaper ones," went on Cerverra. "Here is one at eighteen dollars." "I'm going to have one of these campilan," Hal told himself. In his interest he did not note that the Tagalo who had brought him to the shop had left him and was standing on the sidewalk outside. "Are you interested in these creeses?" inquired Cerverra, passing down the shop and pointing to another wall case. The creese is an ancient Malay knife, with a waved, snaky blade--a weapon with which the Malay pirates of the past used to do fearful execution. Hal stepped before the wall case. "They are very interesting looking," he replied. "What does a good creese cost?" The young sergeant did not wait for an answer. Click! A spring bolt on the under side of a trap door on which he was standing shot out of place. Down dropped the trap door with such suddenness that Hal Overton did not have even time to clutch at anything. Then the trap door, relieved of his weight, flew back into place. Sergeant Hal shot down a steep incline, too smooth for him to be able to stay his downward progress. CHAPTER V ENOUGH TO "RATTLE" THE VICTIM Bump! Sergeant Hal landed at least twenty feet below with a suddenness that jarred all the breath out of him for a moment. Ere he could recover his half-scattered senses he felt himself seized. Nor had the Army boy fallen into one pair of hands. Four or five men, as nearly as he could judge, seized hold of different parts of his body. There was little use in a prostrate youth fighting against such odds. Hal was swiftly rolled over on to his face, in the dark, and two of his captors threw themselves upon him, holding him down. At the same time another thrust an armful of hemp under his face, holding it close against his mouth. Then the light of a dark lantern was flashed on the scene. With the speed of skilled hands at the game these brown-skinned captors bound the young sergeant hand and foot. "Quit this!" Sergeant Overton tried to shout angrily, but the wad of hemp was forced between his teeth and only a faint sound came forth. "Help!" he tried to shout, but the sound came hardly louder than a sigh. Now he was whirled over on his back, helpless, and two of the brown rascals finished their work by thrusting the hemp far enough into his mouth to shut off all speech. Then the gag was bound into place. Hal could form little idea of his prison, save that it was an oblong, cellar-like place, perhaps a dozen feet wide by twenty feet long. As nearly as the Army boy could guess, this cellar must be located under the street itself.