Under MacArthur in Luzon/Chapter 7
"Drop that pistol!" Page 61
CHAPTER VII
A GUERILLA BROUGHT TO TERMS
"Drop that pistol!"
The order, delivered in broken Spanish, came as a thunderclap out of a clear sky to the man who was threatening the woman with the weapon. He gave an ejaculation of astonishment, then turned swiftly toward the doorway, which was now wide open. When he saw Ben standing there, with pistol drawn, and backed up by two soldiers with levelled rifles, his face fell and paled.
"What—what brings you?" he stammered in his native tongue.
"Do you talk English?" demanded Ben. He never spoke anything else unless it was absolutely necessary.
"A leetle, señor, a verra leetle."
"What do you mean by threatening this woman in this fashion?"
"She—ah—she is a verra wicked woman."
"She doesn't look half as wicked as you."
"Sure, an' that's roight," whispered Dan Casey. "His face before a jury would be enough to hang him, the haythin!"
"She steala one box from me," went on Barnabas Moval, trying his best to recover his composure. "She is a verra bad woman. She has de box in her pocket now."
"But she says the box is hers—I heard her."
"Ha! you heara de talk we haf? She tells lies, señor capitan—lies! I am one honest man, capitan."
"Ton't you vos pelief him, cabtain," put in Stummer. "Dot lady ain't no peauty, put I'll pet she's all right, annahow!" And he shook his curly head emphatically.
"What have you to say, madam?" demanded Ben, turning to the woman, who had listened to the conversation in much bewilderment. As yet she knew not whether the newcomers would prove to be friends or foes.
At this the lady shook her head, for she understood only a few words of English. Mustering up his best Spanish, Ben put the question again.
"He does not speak one word of truth," she answered quickly with blazing eyes. "He is a villain, señor, with a heart as black as the night. When my father was alive, he tried to get our lands away from him; now my father is dead, he is trying to make of me a beggar—yes, a beggar. But he shall not do it. You will help me, will you not? I cannot believe the Americanos are as black as they say! Surely you do not look like one who would harm a defenceless woman!" And she clasped her hands pleadingly, as she took a step closer to Ben.
"Where are the lands of which you speak?" asked Ben, curiously. The manner of this strange woman interested him.
"At Biloguana, many miles to the north of this locality. My father had there a great rice plantation, and also a mine from which he took not a little silver. Friar Ponprè was jealous of my father's wealth, and he and this wicked man laid a plot to send my father to Borneo and then to confiscate the lands and the mine. But my father fought the men who would carry him off and got back home with a cracked head and a broken shoulder, from which he never recovered. Friar Ponprè escaped to Desdenas, and this man hid himself until after my father was dead and buried. Then he came out boldly and protested that he had had nothing to do with Friar Ponprè's plot, but that my father had sold him the lands and the mine and had received pay for them. He claimed my father had buried the money received, saying he would thus hide it until the war was over—"
"And it is true," burst in Barnabas Moval. "I paid him every dollar he asked."
"'Tis not true, not one word. On his death-bed my father told me of a will he had made, leaving all the property to me; and how could he leave that property to me if he had sold it?"
"Have you the will?"
"No. He told me he had placed it in a box with some land deeds and private papers, but when I looked for it, it was not there."
"Of course it was not there," came from Barnabas Moval. "'Tis a story made out of the wings of a worm. Do not believe anything she says, capitan."
"Be quiet," ordered Ben, turning on the man, sharply. "I will listen to this woman first. He was going to take a box from you. Was that the box of private papers you mentioned just now?"
"Yes, señor captain."
"What are you doing here with them?"
"I grew afraid to keep them at home. I have a dear friend in Manila, and thought I would take them there for safe keeping. This man followed me from Biloguana to Malolos and from there to Antipolo. To-night I thought to escape to Manila, but he came after me, and I ran in here to hide."
Ben turned to Barnabas Moval. "You wear the uniform of a soldier. Why are you not with the army? Are you a spy?"
"No, no, capitan, I am no spy!" answered the man, in sudden fear. "'Tis true I followed this woman, for she has that which is mine. I am an honest soldier, attached to the command under General Adoz."
"What, that guerilla!" cried Ben, for he had heard of the terrible General Adoz many times. The man mentioned had operated around Malolos ever since the opening of hostilities, but was considered more of a robber chief than an insurgent.
"He is not honest!" cried the woman. "He, too, is a guerilla and fights only for the sake of looting. At Malolos the houses of two Chinamen were sacked by him and three others, and another house was sacked at San Isidro, just after the American troops went away."
"In that case he is a man worth capturing," said Ben, sternly. "Men, make him your prisoner."
At this order Barnabas Moval began to rave wildly, saying the woman was a traitor and worse, and that the foolish Americano capitan would soon learn how he had been fooled. But Ben cut him short by stating that the woman would also be required to go along. Then Moval was disarmed by Casey and Stummer, who tied his hands behind him; and the party left the monastery almost as quickly as they had entered it.
"What will you do with me?" questioned Inez Garabella, as she walked beside Ben. "Surely you will not consider me a prisoner of war?"
"That matter will have to be considered later," returned the young captain, gravely. "I shall see you safe to camp and then to Manila, and there my superiors will take matters in charge. Personally I believe your story, and if it is believed at headquarters, you will soon be released."
At these kind words the eyes of the woman softened. "You are kind, just as I thought when I first saw you, capitan. May I ask your name?"
"I am Captain Benjamin Russell."
"I shall not forget you easily, Captain Russell. Had you not come up when you did, that villain would have taken my life." And she shuddered.
"I shall report his actions in detail, and if he is a follower of this notorious General Adoz, I imagine it will go hard with him. The Spaniards had a price of a thousand dollars upon Adoz's head, and we are just as anxious to get hold of him and his guerillas as they were."
Ben did not wish to take the man and the woman along on the hunt for Lieutenant Gilmore, and after a brief consultation it was decided to send them to Taytay in custody of Carl Stummer and a private named Horseford. As Barnabas Moval was bound, it was not anticipated that there would be any trouble on the journey, since no rebels were to be seen anywhere.
This settled, and the party of four having moved off, Ben started ahead more rapidly than ever, in the direction of the field where he had left the injured lieutenant. It was no easy matter to locate the spot in the darkness, and at the risk of stirring up the enemy he gave the men permission to scatter and call Gilmore's name in guarded tones.
It was Dan Casey who at last stumbled upon the lieutenant, lying unconscious a short distance from the hollow where Ben had left him. There was a bullet hole in his shoulder from which the blood had been flowing freely.
"Sure, an' he's next to bein' dead," muttered Casey, after calling up the others. "Some feller plugged him." And he got down to examine the wound.
Ben was shocked, but did not allow his feelings to overcome him. On several occasions he had practised the art of first aid to the injured, as taught to the volunteers, and now he drew forth a bandage he had thoughtfully brought along, and bound up the wound, so that there should be no more loss of blood. Then he applied some stimulants and did what he otherwise could to revive the sufferer. But poor Gilmore was too far gone to open his eyes or speak, and only gasped and groaned as they placed him on a stretcher.
"I'll tell you what, there's small glory in this," remarked one of the soldiers, as they moved on with their burden. "Folks at home don't know how terrible the dark side of war really is."
"Right you are, Smader," answered the young captain. "There is more work than glory, and a good deal of bitterness added. Now Gilmore here has nobody at home but a widowed sister, who writes to him constantly. I wonder how that poor woman will take the news when she hears how he has been cut down?" And he heaved a long sigh.
It was past midnight when the party returned to the encampment of the first battalion. Fortunately Surgeon Fallox was with the battalion and in a position to give Lieutenant Gilmore his immediate attention. The injured man was made as comfortable as possible, and the surgeon made a careful examination of the case.
"The wound is not a serious one, although he has lost considerable blood and is greatly weakened thereby," he announced. "His back, though, is bad, and it may be many a day before he is able to walk again."
"But he will eventually recover?"
"I think so, although his back may be weak for years."
Ben found that Inez Garabella and Barnabas Moval had been taken care of by Major Morris, who was greatly interested in all the male prisoner had to say. "This Moval is a sly one," said the major to the young captain. "I am trying to pump him about General Adoz, but it is precious little I can get out of him."
"If you could catch this Adoz, it would be a big feather in your cap, major."
"I know it, captain."
"Will you send them to Manila at once?"
"Yes; they can go to-morrow, with the wounded ones." The major lowered his voice. "Between you and me, I believe we'll all be going back to Manila soon."
"Why? because the rebels were so slippery?"
"Yes. They don't want to engage in a regular battle, and it seems impossible to corner them into doing so."
As it was late, the conversation was not prolonged, and soon Ben was in the land of dreams, sleeping as soundly as if in a bed at home.
The next day was Sunday, and early in the morning several cascos from Pasig were called into use, and two battalions of Washington troops, under Colonel Wholley, set out for Morong, escorted by several small gunboats. Morong was vigorously shelled, and then the troops landed, only to find that the insurgents had taken shelter on the distant hills. A running fight followed, and ended when the rebels made a break for the mountains, where it was next to impossible to follow them.
In the meantime General Hall had changed his tactics, and now he drove straight through Antipolo, and being joined by additional troops, moved on to Teresa, a small settlement on the highway to Morong. This movement took the whole of Sunday, which was hot and sultry, and resulted in the prostration of many of the soldiers by the heat. Near Morong the Americans came upon the rear of General Pio del Pilar's wagon train and captured some of the stores and a few caribaos and carts, but the others managed to join the rest of the train in the mountains. On Monday General Hall's command joined that of Colonel Wholley at Morong, and after a necessary rest left a garrison at the town on the lake and moved back in the direction of Manila.
At this late day it is impossible to say what the benefits of the expedition to Morong were, excepting that it held the rebels somewhat in check and kept them from getting too close to Manila during the rainy season, which now came upon the islands in all of its fury, causing the Laguna de Bay and the Pasig River to overflow their banks and doing much damage to the shipping both inland and on Manila Bay. As soon as the fighting was over, many of the Tagals returned to their old haunts, some putting on civilians' dress and passing for amigos (friends). In the meantime the followers of Aguinaldo also came back to San Isidro and Tarlac in the north, while a large body of the rebels in the south moved up to surround Parañaque and other towns lying below Manila on the bay. Hostilities between the Americans and the insurgents had now lasted nearly five months, and the end was by no means in sight. On the contrary, it was admitted that Uncle Sam must have additional troops without delay, if the islands were to be pacified, and enlistments in all of our large cities went, forward as vigorously as ever.
On returning to Manila, Ben's first movement was to see how his brother Larry and his old chum, Gilbert Pennington, were faring. He found both sitting up and wonderfully improved.
"I shall be out of here in another week or so," said Larry, with something of his old-time smile. "And I can tell you I'll not be sorry."
"And I'll be out, too," put in Gilbert, and added, "How did you make out on that last excursion?"
"Well, I got my share of adventure," returned Ben, and sitting down he gave them a complete account of what had happened.
"What, you met José Lupez!" ejaculated Larry. "What became of him?"
"I can't say. I was glad enough to escape. But I hope I'll meet him again."
"What are they going to do with that man Barnabas Moval?" asked Gilbert.
"Put him in jail as a follower of General Adoz, the guerilla."
"And the woman?"
"I think they will let her go. She has friends here who are ready to vouch for her good character."
"It's a pity you didn't catch Adoz instead of one of his hangers-on," continued the Southerner.
"Or that José Lupez," put in Larry.
At this Ben could not help but laugh. "You want too much at a time," he said. "Let us see what the future brings forth." And there the subject was dropped.