w
steaming all the time."

Yet there was plenty to divert one's thoughts from himself, for along
this road lay some of the prettiest small farms to be found on northern
Mindanao. Instead of farms they really looked more like well-kept
gardens.

"It's the finest spot in the world to be lazy in," thought the young
sergeant, as he glanced here and there over the charming scene. "If I
settled down here for life I'd want money enough to pay other fellows to
do all the work for me."

Though Hal did not know it, from the window of one room in a house that
he passed a pair of unusually bright, keen eyes glared out at him.

"That is he, the _sergente_, Overton," growled Vicente Tomba to himself.
"Since we have Senor Draney's orders that the _sergente_ is to leave
this life as soon as possible, why not to-day? He is going to Bantoc,
where it will be easy to snare him. And his friend Terry is not with
him. That pair, back to back, might put up a hard fight--but one alone
should be easy for our _bravos_. Then, another day, we can plan to get
the _Sergente_ Terry."

Hal was not quite in Bantoc when a Tagalo on a pony rode by him at a
gallop. Hal glanced at the fellow indolently, but did not recognize him,
as it was not Tomba, but one of that worthy's messengers.

Up and down the principal street Sergeant Overton wandered. He glanced
into shops, though only idly, for to-day he was not on a buying mission.

At last the cool-looking interior of a little restaurant attracted him.
He entered, ordering an ice cream. When this was finished he ate
another. It was so restful, sitting here, that when he had disposed of
the second order, he paid his account but did not rise at once.

"The _sergente_ is newly arrived here?" asked a white-clad Filipino,
rising from another table and joining Overton.

"Yes."

"Then you have not seen much of Bantoc?" asked the Filipino, speaking in
Spanish.

"Not as much as I mean to see of the town," Hal answered in the same
tongue.

"Then possibly, Senor 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, senor, 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. If you have time, Senor Sergente, I am walking
that way and will show you the place."

"Thank you; I'll be glad to go," answered Hal, rising promptly.