seat beside the driver.

A sharp order from the Governor and the chauffeur shot them out of the
reservation and into the provincial road. The big Renault roared
through the night, the kilometer posts flitting by like specters, the
headlights tunneling the cocoanut groves through which the white
highway spun.

The four Americans crouched low in the tonneau to escape the blinding
rush of air that eddied over the windshield. They shot over a bridge,
tore through a dark village, rounded a corner at top speed and took
the grassed shoulder of the road as the little chauffeur twisted the
wheel to avoid a bewildered carabao which blocked the middle of the
highway. A sickening skid, and they were back in the road. At the end
of a roaring flight down a long straightaway they rounded a sharp
curve into a short stretch terminating in a nipa village which seemed
to leap toward the rushing car. As the powerful lights swung upon the
widened road which formed the village street the alert driver saw that
which brought foot and hand to the brakes in a frantic effort that
brought the car to a grinding, sliding stop and tumbled the Americans
to the floor of the tonneau.

Crouched in the middle of the road a Moro, gone amuck, darted fanatic
glances in search of the Christians he had vowed to die killing, his
eyes bloodshot with the self-inflicted torture of the juramentado
rite. He balanced a great two-handed kris that gleamed like a row of
stars where the headlight struck its polished corrugations.

A Filipino, unaware of the terrific figure behind him, had sauntered
from the shadows into the path of light, curious, half-blinded by the
glare he faced. As he reached the middle of the road the most
terrifying of all cries issued from one of the dark windows.

"_Juramentado!! Juramentado!!!_"

At the cry his face turned sickly green in the glare. He wheeled,
uncertain, then ran blindly toward the frenzied Moro who was creeping
toward him.

It happened with the swiftness of nightmare. By the time the
Americans had picked themselves up from the bottom of the car the
Filipino's frantic burst had brought him within twenty feet of the
black-clad fanatic. His flying feet lagged to a halt, he stood stock
still in sheer horror till the Moro bounded toward him, then turned
back toward the car--too late!

The four white men leaped out just as the Filipino turned back toward
them with fear-leaden feet, and in the moment of discovery of the
M