At this point along the Escolta are the busiest marts of local trade. The sidewalks are crowded with hurrying throngs; the streets jammed with traffic, for in Manila few of the whites or the wealthier natives ever think of walking more than a block or two. The _quilez_, the little two-wheeled car drawn by a six-hundred-pound pony, is the common means of getting about. A dollar in American money will charter one of these _quilez_ for hours, and the heat renders it an advisable investment for one who has far to go. Automobiles were scarce, though they had penetrated even this congested Escolta. Here and there an Army officer or orderly appeared on horseback in the crush of the street. If he attempted to ride at a canter the horseman seemed to be taking his life in his own hands, with the chances all against him. Save for the lazy calls of drivers--_cocheros_--to their horses, the hum of human voices was subdued. In the heat of the Escolta the people of all colors seem to have reached a tacit understanding that it requires less exertion to talk in low tones. White people of both sexes appeared, clad usually in the white attire so customary in the tropics. Filipino dandies affected the same garbing, with the exception of here and there a natty, nervous, little brown man who appeared in the more formal black frock coat. But few, even of these, had the courage to come out in sun-up hours wearing the silk hat that is the usual accompaniment of the long-tailed frock coat. Despite the heat, the faces of most of the people in the crowded streets appeared cheerful, even happy. Life is not taken too seriously in the Orient. The natives always find plenty of time for laughter; the stranger soon acquires the trick. Banks, stores, restaurants, mineral water kiosks--all the places of resort along the Escolta--were abundantly patronized, yet none save the _cocheros_ perched up on the little seats of the _quilez_ appeared to be at all in a hurry. Yet one man in particular appeared to be devoid of hurry. In fact, he paused or halted whenever the two boyish young sergeants did. He invariably kept about a hundred feet behind them in this queerly bustling yet ever leisurely crowd that thronged the sidewalks of the Escolta. While Hal and Noll were curiously noting the fact--that the Escolta seems always so busy, but the individuals who make up the life there seem never in a hurry--the man who was plainly following them never glanced at them directly, yet never once lost sight of them. Neither Hal nor Noll had yet noted the man, about whom there were some points that would have been amusing to the American youngsters.