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Updated: May 23, 2025
"He's all right," exclaimed Sim Relander feelingly, as if that laconic reply had been the only thing necessary to establish the young man's social standing. "That feller's been out here only four months, an' I'll bet they ain't any ten men in the Philippines what's had as many clost calls as he's had," said Johnny Rogers. "I was thinkin' about it to-day.
"I got him sized up all right," said one of the Spurrier boys. "His people don't know where he's at. That feller's a swell at home an' he's had to skip out. I'll bet my breakfast his name ain't Bansemer. An' if his people don't know where he's at, how in thunder can they write to him? See what I mean?" "Think he's a bank cashier?" asked Sim Relander. "Naw; it ain't money, it's some girl.
With renewed zest Bansemer finished with the bayonet his own assailant, and saw the man fall on top of poor Adams and Relander. Suddenly there was an exultant yell from the enemy. Instinctively Bansemer knew that one side of the square had given way. Quickly turning, he rushed to give his aid, and just in time caught the arm of a native about to slash him with a huge knife.
"He'll be a captain or something before this scrap is over." "He'll be a corpse, that's what he'll be." "It's my opinion he'd just as lief be shot as not," said Relander. "The only trouble is that these measly niggers can't hit anything they shoot at. If the darned fools would only try to miss him, they'd get him sure. The devil and Tom Walker what's that?" "Halt! Who goes there!"
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