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At that moment Sergeant Hal, glancing into Cerverra's store, caught sight of the bright, eager eyes of the proprietor. "Corporal Hyman, arrest that man, also," commanded young Overton sharply, pointing into the shop. "The fellow's name is Cerverra, and he had a part in the plot against me."
The little brown man who was clever enough to pick the pocket of the sergeant of the guard found it even less trouble to return the key." "Cerverra didn't get away, anyway," muttered Lieutenant Ray, who had grown suddenly tired and careworn in appearance. "Undoubtedly that's because Tomba is of more importance to the Moro plotters than Cerverra.
The Army boy retold the entire story, leaving out nothing not even, the reader may be sure, what Vicente Tomba had said to Hal about Draney's connection with the natives. "Ray, you're officer of the day," broke in the post commander suddenly. "Go out to Corporal Hyman and see that he turns Tomba and Cerverra over at the guard house.
Hal inquired. "Forty dollars," replied Cerverra. "Gold!" "No; Mex." 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.
"There are a few others, though, who deserve the same fate." "We'll mix it up with that scoundrel yet," muttered Hal to his chum. Back in Bantoc all was quiet again. Cerverra had been released with a reprimand that he was not likely to forget. Now that the datto was gone, the spirit was lacking for insurrection, and that part of Mindanao settled down to quiet. For how long?
If you have time, Señor Sergente, I am walking that way and will show you the place." "Thank you; I'll be glad to go," answered Hal, rising promptly. His was the profession of arms, and a display of any unfamiliar weapons was sure to attract the young sergeant. Juan Cerverra, despite his Spanish-sounding name, proved to be a full-blooded Moro.
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.
"Not as much as I mean to see of the town," Hal answered in the same tongue. "Then possibly, Señor Sergente, you have not yet seen the collection of ancient Moro weapons in the shop of Juan Cerverra." "I haven't," Hal admitted. "Then you have missed much, señor, but you will no doubt go to see the collection one of these days." "I'd like to. Where is the shop?" "Four doors below here.
With two other soldiers Hyman darted into the shop, from which they soon came out with Cerverra, who protested strongly. Meanwhile Vicente Tomba had discovered a cause of discomfort. "Señor Sergente," he complained, "during our struggle in the cellar you knocked my cigarettes from my hand. I beg that you let one of your soldiers take this piece of money into a shop and buy me more cigarettes."
One case was filled entirely with fine specimens of that once-dreaded weapon, the Moro "campilan." This is a straight sword, usually, with a very heavy blade, which gradually widens towards the end. This is a heavy cutting sword, and one that was placed in Sergeant Hal's hands, though Cerverra claimed that it was two hundred years old, had an edge like a razor. "How much is such a sword as this?"
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