s and dolphins sporting in the
foaming wake. He wondered how long the boat was going to be out, if
it would return in time for him to save the governor. When he started
toward a group of men to ask for information he was met with a shout.

"Get out of here, you!" they yelled, and poor Piang hurriedly retreated
to the stern. Much talk of the coming baile seemed to indicate that
the sailors expected to return before evening, so Piang patiently
squatted on a coil of rope, wondering when the mysteries of his errand
would be revealed to him.

The ocean is dotted with many lovely islands off Zamboanga. Somber,
lowering Basilan guards its secrets to this day; Sacol, home of Dato
Mandi, invites and then repels the intruder; tiny clumps of vivid
green rise out of the channel in the most unexpected places, as if
timidly wishing to investigate before adding their emerald mite to
crown the Celebes. The island toward which the _Sabah_ was making her
way seemed blacker and denser than its more frivolous neighbors. Two
staccato whistles warned the islanders of the _Sabah's_ approach,
and the beach was soon the scene of lively commotion. The engines
stopped, and the gunboat slid along easily. A boat was lowered. The
sailors were speaking in low voices; one looked toward Piang and
shook his head sadly.

"My task is not to be an easy one," thought the charm boy, but his
head went up proudly. These sailor men should see how a brave Moro
executed the commands of his superiors.

"Come on, kid," called a jacky, and just as Piang stepped over the
side a kindly sailor slipped a quarter in his hand. It was evidently
a gift, and the boy grinned appreciatively.

"Wastin' your coin, man," remarked another sailor with a harsh
laugh. "He's not likely to need _dinero_ (a silver coin) soon." Piang
wondered again at the pitying looks that were cast at him, but he only
held his head higher and climbed into the boat. The men seemed in a
great hurry; they landed far up the beach, and bags and provisions
were hastily dumped on the sand.

"Here you are, young 'un," said a sailor, and Piang looked up eagerly.

"Me, here?"

"Yep, this is your place," replied the man, looking away quickly from
the soft brown eyes.

Obediently the jungle boy jumped out, awaiting instructions. The
sailor in charge pointed to the paper in Piang's hand and waved toward
the barrio.

"For dato?" Piang asked, with a puzzled look.

"Sure, the dato," replied the man evas