the afternoon, as the detachment, moving at route step, reached the
crest of a hill those in advance came upon a party of Moros camped in a
grove by the road. These men, perhaps fifty in number, were preparing a
meal. They displayed no weapons.

"These men were undoubtedly recent fighters, too," remarked Lieutenant
Prescott. "However, we'll look them over to make sure that they have no
weapons now."

Hardly had the two sergeants started on their tour of inspection when
one man leaped suddenly from his seat on the ground and made off on a
run.

"There's the man we want!" yelled Hal. "Vicente Tomba, I call upon you
to halt and surrender!"

But Tomba, for it was he, continued to run fleetly.

"Bring that man down, if he won't stop!" commanded Lieutenant Prescott
sternly.

"Halt, Tomba, or we fire!" shouted Hal. "Ready, men! Aim! fire!"

Seven rifles spoke, almost in unison. Vicente Tomba pitched forward,
then fell. When examined he was found to have received four bullet
wounds. As he was dead, the soldiers buried him then and there.

"Men who are found in Tomba's company are subjects for suspicion,"
remarked Lieutenant Prescott dryly. "Though we've found no weapons with
this crowd we'll round 'em up and take 'em in."

This was done. Captain Freeman decided to read these natives a lesson
and then let them go.

"Why not make the rascals most humbly salute the Flag, sir?" suggested
Sergeant Overton respectfully. "I still have the Flag that the Moros
insulted."

"A good idea," nodded the commanding officer. "Get the Flag, Sergeant."

Over the late datto's fort the Stars and Stripes soon fluttered. The
troops were paraded to do the emblem honor. Then the Moro prisoners were
forced to pay it humble reverence, after which they were allowed, on
their hands and knees, to crawl out of the fort and find their liberty
outside.

"I'm sorry the datto didn't live a little longer," murmured Sergeant Hal
to his chum. "I'd have enjoyed seeing him salute the Flag fifty times
and then crawl away on his knees."

The following morning Captain Freeman marched his column back over the
many miles that lay between them and Bantoc. On a later morning of the
march the dusty column passed Draney's plantation. That adventurer
boldly hailed the officers as the troops marched by.

"I hear you've killed the datto," was the planter's greeting.

"Yes," responded Captain Freeman dryly. "There are a few others, though,
who deserve the sam