On to Pekin/Chapter 5
CHAPTER V
GILBERT MEETS NUGGY POLK
The two transports which were to take the soldiers from Manila to China lay in the harbor off the Anda Monument; but several days were still to elapse before the first of them should set sail on her momentous voyage to Nagasaki, Japan, the first stopping-place. Where the transport was to go after that, none of the under officers or privates knew. The duty of the American soldier is to obey orders, and not ask questions.
There was much to do,—new uniforms and shoes to be fitted, guns to be inspected, ammunition to be dealt out, camping outfits to be cared for,—so that the hours flew by swiftly for Gilbert and all the others; and he had no time in which to ascertain whether or not Nuggy Polk—whose real first name was Nuglich—was still in Manila or if he had set sail for the Celestial Empire.
The transport was to sail on Tuesday; and by Monday night the preparations for departure—so far as they affected the young lieutenant—were complete. This being so, he asked for leave of absence for several hours, which was readily granted; and off he went to hunt up Nuggy Polk.
Captain Ponsberry had described the young man as tall and thin, with a short, stubby mustache and eyes which shifted continually. He was said to have stopped at the Hotel for American Gentlemen, as one of the native resorts had lately been pompously rechristened.
Gilbert found the hostelry without much difficulty, and on inquiry at the desk learned that Nuggy Polk had left the place that morning.
"He was not sure if he would be back," said the clerk. "He wanted to visit the soldiers' encampment up at the water-works. Perhaps you will find him there."
The water-works are several miles to the eastward of Manila, at a spot where a few months before some severe fighting had taken place between the Americans and the insurgents. Gilbert decided to journey thither, and hired a pony for that purpose.
The young lieutenant had been over this ground before,—indeed, some of his first fighting in the Philippines had been done in that neighborhood; and he found his way, without difficulty, along a highway lined with palms and other tropical trees.
As he moved along, he kept his eyes open for anybody who might bear a resemblance to the young man he desired to interview. It was growing dark rapidly; yet the night promised to be clear, and he could still see without much difficulty.
The camping grounds of the soldiers at the water-works were almost gained, when, on reaching a turn of the road, the young lieutenant beheld coming toward him a high native fancy cart, drawn by two stout ponies. On the seat of the cart sat two young men; and, from the description which had been given to him, he recognized the driver of the turnout as Nuggy Polk.
As soon as he made his discovery that the man he was seeking was before him, Gilbert also learned something else, which was that both young men had been drinking far more than was good for them, and, if they were not intoxicated, they were pretty close to it. The driver was swaying from side to side, jerking the reins in a way to completely bewilder his steeds; and his companion was expostulating, and trying to get the lines in his own possession.
"I tell you, Nuggy, you ain't in no condition to drive," the second young man was saying. "Give me the lines, an' I'll show you how to make 'em trot."
"Give you nothing!" retorted Nuggy Polk, savagely. "I can drive as well as anybody, Jerry Nickerson; and I want you to know it."
"You're steerin' 'em into the rocks," went on Jerry Nickerson. "You'll smash us up in another minit!" And he clutched Polk's arm to keep himself from rolling off the high seat to the ground.
"Lemme go!" screamed the would-be driver, and tried to shake his companion off; but Jerry Nickerson made another clutch for the reins, and a fierce struggle ensued, in the midst of which the ponies took fright, and began to tear down the highway at their best speed.
Gilbert could do nothing to stop the runaway team; and, as the high cart bounced past, he fully expected to see the two young men thrown out and killed. The reins fell upon the ponies' heels, and then Jerry Nickerson clutched the seat for safety. Nuggy Polk was thrown over backward, into the 
"You'll be all right if you'll only stand up."—Page 45.
rear of the cart, and came to the ground with a splash just as the turnout went through a mud puddle six inches deep.
"Help! save me!" roared the young man, bellowing like a bull. "Don't let the hosses kick me to death!"
He continued to bellow and splash around in the mud until Gilbert, dismounting, went to his assistance. "You'll be all right if you'll only stand up," said the young lieutenant.
"All right? Do I want to be kicked to death?" demanded Nuggy Polk, as he sat up, and dug the mud from his eyes.
"You'll not be kicked to death. You landed in a soft spot, so I reckon there are no bones broken."
"But the hosses—"
"Your ponies and cart are half a mile from here by this time. They went off like a streak of lightning."
"Humph!" Nuggy Polk arose to his feet with difficulty, and dragged himself to where Gilbert stood. "Where's Jerry?" he demanded.
"Your companion was clinging to the cart seat the last I saw of him."
"Humph! He'll be killed as sure as you're born. But it serves him right. He had no business to try to take the reins out of my hands. I know how to drive—used to drive the finest high-steppers in Richmond. He don't know the first thing about hosses."
"Well, I hope he isn't killed."
"Oh, he'll be all right—you couldn't kill Jerry Nickerson if you tried. Say, but I'm in a pickle, ain't I?" And Nuggy Polk surveyed himself dismally. He was arrayed in a white linen suit, with a fancy silk dress shirt; and the outfit had suffered much from the contact with mud and water. "I can't go back tp Manila looking like this."
Gilbert could offer nothing but his handkerchief; and this Polk accepted, and washed his face and hands at a near-by pool. He was very unsteady on his legs, and his speech was thick. He declared that he did not care what became of Jerry Nickerson.
"He's my friend, but in a case of this kind he must take care of himself," he muttered. "I suppose those ponies won't run on forever."
"If you got them from a stable in Manila, they will probably go straight home," answered Gilbert. "By the way, do you belong in Manila?" he went on, determined to "pump" Polk without making himself known.
"Me belong to Manila?" cried the young man. "Not much. You couldn't hire me to live in such a back-number town. No, I'm from Richmond, Virginia."
"Then you are a good way from home. But I, too, come from Virginia," continued Gilbert. "I was born in Powhatan Court House," which was the exact truth.
"Is that so? Glad to know you. You're a lieutenant, I reckon, by the uniform."
"I am, Mr.—"
"Nuglich Polk is my handle. Generally called Nuggy by my friends. And you are?—"
"My name is Gilbert."
"Proud to know you!" The young man tried to look sober for a second, then burst out into a fit of unreasonable laughter. "Say, but I cut a figure, didn't I, when I went into the mud?"
"I didn't see very clearly. I was watching your team."
"Oh, don't smooth it over, lieutenant. It's all right! So we are both from Virginia? Good enough! Ever been to Richmond?"
"Yes, years ago."
"I and my father run the Richmond Importing Company there. Perhaps you've heard of the concern. We ship goods all over the world,—China, Japan, South Africa, everywhere. Got a vessel here now, bound for China, the Columbia. Had to look after her, and that's what brought me to the Philippines."
"Then you are going back to the States soon?" went on Gilbert. "You're lucky. Lots of the boys would like to go, too."
"No, I'm booked straight through to China."
Nuggy Polk gave something closely resembling a hiccough, and then felt in a rear pocket of his trousers. "Have a drink?" he went on, producing a whiskey flask.
"Thanks, but I'm not a drinking man," answered Gilbert.
"What! Don't drink? Well, I never! I'll drink for you. Here's your health."
The whiskey flask was elevated to Polk's lips, and a long low gurgle followed. The action disgusted the young lieutenant; but he felt powerless to remonstrate, even had he felt so inclined.
"Ah! now I feel better!" said the young man, more unsteadily than ever; and then, finding the flask empty, he threw it to one side of the road. "Yes, I'm from Richmond; and I don't care who knows it. We are the people! Ain't that so?" And he tried to brace up proudly.
"We are certainly some of the people," answered Gilbert; and he felt like adding that Polk was the most disgusting specimen he had yet encountered. "If you and your father run the Richmond Importing Company, you must be doing a large business."
"Large doesn't express it, lieutenant. It's growing every day."
"A stock concern, I reckon?"
"Humph! It's our concern,—belongs to father and me. We used to have some outside people in it, but we froze 'em out,—had to do it, it was such a good thing, don't you see?"
"That was rather hard on the other fellows, I should imagine."
"Oh, we paid 'em to get out; but not too much, understand? We're shrewd, me and father, when it comes to real business." Nuggy Polk gave a lurch which landed him on the grass of the roadside. "Say, but that tumble made me weak in the legs!" he declared.
"Better rest here, and see if your friend comes back," suggested Gilbert. "I'll stay with you; and, if he doesn't return, I'll see to it that you get back to Manila in safety."
"Will you? That's mighty kind, lieutenant, and I'll stay; and I'll pay you for all you do for me." And the young man pulled from his pocket a roll of bank bills. "I reckon bills go with you, even if the confounded natives won't accept 'em."
"I don't want your money—"
"Don't grow offended, lieutenant. I'm all right, and you're all right. We understand each other, don't we?"
"I hope we shall, if not now, then later on," replied Gilbert, with an emphasis which was entirely lost on the befuddled young man to whom the words were addressed.