The rainy season was one of unusual cheerlessness to Ben and Larry, for so far nothing had been heard concerning Walter excepting that he had disappeared ashore, and that it was more than likely the young sailor had been killed in the running fight with the Negritos. Both of the Russells had questioned those on the Central closely but without further satisfaction.
"He's gone—that's all there is to it," said Larry, with trembling lips. "Poor Walter, we'll never see him again."
Ben heaved a long sigh. "You must be right, Larry. If only he had remained at home with Uncle Job!"
For a month after the fighting on the Zapote River the regiment to which Ben was attached remained in that vicinity. In the meantime Larry returned to Manila and was placed on the Charleston, then doing duty along the coast. Thus the two brothers were once more separated, not to meet again for some time to come.
During the rainy season everything possible was done to make the insurgents throw down their arms, and in Manila the Filipinos were instructed in the art of self-government. Yet this had no
