ER XVII.

THE FLARE OF A ROCKET.

Ben looked at Ned in astonishment.

"You never got the _Manhattan_ away, did you?" he asked.

"The boys got it away," replied Ned.

The sailor remained silent for a moment, his face turned away from the
man he was supposed to be watching. When he spoke it was in a very low
tone, with little movement of the lips, and with his face still turned
toward the lieutenant.

"You should have gone with it," he said.

Ned did not reply. He had, at the last moment, made a rush for the boat,
but had been kept away from her by the natives.

"Carstens has been after you for a long time," the sailor went on. "He
got his orders at Manila."

"What was he doing on the island with the rebels?" asked Ned.

"I'm sure I don't know," was the whispered reply. "There's something
mighty funny going on here. More mischief, I'm afraid. No one knows what
is in the boxes that are now being unloaded."

"What does he say they are?" asked Ned.

"Supplies, to keep the chiefs good-natured."

"He brought them from Manila?"

"No, he picked them up over on the China coast."

"I thought so," Ned answered.

"Now, what is the answer to that remark," asked Ben.

"You'll get the answer directly," Ned replied. "Listen to the rattle of
the alleged supplies when a box is thrown down hard!"

"I was noticing that."

"Sounds like guns?" asked Ned.

"Yes, indeed, but why should the government be supplying the dagoes with
guns? We have all we can do to keep them decent when they have no arms
at all."

"You sailed from Manila with Carstens?" said Ned, putting his statement
in the form of a question.

"Yes, I left Manila on the _Clara_. He seemed to be all right until
after we picked up the boxes on the China coast. He was a good fellow,
when we left Manila, but he was confined to his cabin for a day and a
night and has been ugly as sin ever since. He came out of the sickness
looking a bit seedy but that ought not to cause him to turn into a
red-handed brute, had it?"

"He has been acting badly, has he?" asked Ned.

"As if the very Old Nick was in him," was the reply. "You heard what he
said about a drum-head court martial for you?" the sailor added.

"Of course."

"Well, he means it. He's got something against you that doesn't show on
the outside. He'll try you in five minutes and shoot you within the next
ten."

"That would be murder."

"Well, he has the authority, under the general instructions re