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. He wore his Moro costume, with its tight-fitting
trousers and short, embroidered blouse. There were no customers in the
shop when Hal and his Tagalo acquaintance entered.

In another moment Sergeant Hal was deeply absorbed in several wall cases
of swords and knives, all of them of old-time patterns. It was a sight
that would have bewildered a lover and collector of curios of past ages.

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?" 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.

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.

Hal stepped before the wall case. "They are very interesting looking,"
he replied. "What does a good creese cost?"

The young sergeant did not wait for an answer.

Click! A spring bolt on the under side of a trap door on which he was
standing shot out of place.

Down dropped the trap door with such suddenness that Hal Overton did not
have even time to clutch at anything.

Then the trap door, relieved of his weight, flew back into place.

Sergeant Hal shot down a steep incline, too smooth for him to be able to
stay his downward progress.

CHAPTER V

ENOUGH TO "RATTLE" THE VICTIM

Bump!

Sergeant Hal landed at least twenty feet b