"Perhaps I can do better than that," proposed Mr. Seaforth, rising. "When the collector was here my son succeeded--without the rascal's knowledge--in getting a snapshot at him. I think I can find the photo." Disappearing into the house, the planter soon returned, handing the young officer a card. Prescott gazed at the photo, then called out: "Men, pass the word for Sergeant Overton to report here. Tell him that his orders are to keep under cover while on the way here." Hal soon appeared, crouching behind the trench, and sheltered by the high dirt wall. "Sergeant, have you ever seen this fellow in the photo?" inquired the lieutenant, with a smile, passing the card to Overton. "I should think I have, sir. This is Vicente Tomba." "Can't be a doubt about it, can there?" "Not unless Tomba has a twin brother, sir." "And to think that we had that little rascal in arrest!" muttered the lieutenant. "It was a sad day for Mindanao when Tomba escaped from our guard house." Then, after a pause, Prescott continued: "By the way, Mr. Seaforth, how long has Draney been on his present plantation?" "I don't know, Lieutenant. He's been there longer than I have resided here." "Has he ever been troubled by the Moros?" "They have never attacked him, Lieutenant. Draney must pay some tribute to the Datto Hakkut." Lieutenant Prescott and Sergeant Hal Overton glanced quickly at one another, though neither spoke. "That is all, Sergeant," said the officer, by way of dismissal. "Return to your men." "Very good, sir." CHAPTER XIV THE CALL FOR MIDNIGHT COURAGE At a few minutes past six it was dark, for the sun goes down early in the tropics. Now the soldiers were relieved from their cramped positions of the day. A few at a time they left the trenches, rising and walking about. Inside the house their bacon was cooked for them and their coffee made. Mr. Seaforth, who was abundantly supplied with food, added a variety of palatable eatables to their night meal. Lieutenant Prescott and Sergeant Hal Overton walked together around the line of defenses. The officer frequently used his night glass, now and then passing it to the boyish sergeant. "You see, Overton," said the lieutenant, "from all outward appearances there isn't a Moro left in the woods anywhere around here. Our good judgment tells us, however, now that night has come, that we shall do well to be doubly alert." "Do you think they will dare attack so large a force in a sudden rush, sir?"