Indeed the harbor was an ideal hiding place. The stream turned sharply to the east from its northerly course just before it reached the white beach, ran a few yards in that direction, and then turned north once more and emptied into the sea. This placed a dense growth of jungle between the beach and the position taken by the _Manhattan_, which had pa.s.sed into the channel running east and west and was effectively screened from view on either side by the growths of the jungle.

As soon as the boat was in the position desired, Ned crossed the arm of land lying between the stream and the beach and looked out with his gla.s.s. The _Miles_ pa.s.sed while he stood there, the American flag flying from her masthead. When he went back to the _Manhattan_ there was a troubled look on his face.

"She's on government service, all right," he said to Pat and Frank, "I saw men in uniform on her deck."

"I didn't see anybody land," said Pat.

"Did she communicate with the sh.o.r.e in any way?" asked Ned.

"Well, there were native boats plying about and they might have taken some of the brown men off to her."

"It is all of a piece with the counterfeit instructions," Ned said.

"There is an unknown interest working in this case. If the officers at Manila suspected or had wind of what is going on here, why didn't they send a troop ship and capture the chiefs, and so screen out the men responsible for the conspiracy?"

"That's another thing we've got to find out," Frank said, with a grin.

"We've got a good many things to find out!"

"And the first thing to discover," Ned said, "is what has become of the boys."

"Right you are!" cried Pat. "I'll go back to the top of the hill and see if there's any commotion on the island."

"What does the island look like?" asked Frank.

"Looks like a valley with a line of hills shutting it in. Looks like a saucer with a high rim. The dago chiefs are encamped in the middle of the saucer."

"In a thicket, of course?"

"It is quite free from jungle growths down there," was the reply--"so clear that I was able to see the encampment and the people moving about.

And I think I saw the treaty box, at that!"

"Treaty box?" laughed Frank. "Don't you ever think these brown men have any box to put their treaty in!"

"What do you think about it, Ned?" asked Pat.

"I hardly think they unlock their pocket-books with keys like the one I found," replied Ned. "And, besides," he added, "the white men back of this conspiracy would naturally want a treaty signed up with all the ceremony that could be hatched up, in order to impress the chiefs. Yes, I think there must be a treaty box!"

"And you think you've got a key to it?" asked Frank.

"I've got a key to something," was the reply.

Frank opened his lips to make some remark, but Ned laid a hand on his arm and drew closer to him so that a low voice might be heard, at the same time motioning to Pat to remain quiet.

"Now, don't move, or turn to look," Ned said, "but in a few seconds, after I have turned away, look, casually, toward the great balete tree which rises above the jungle straight to the south."

Ned turned away directly and faced the jungle to the north.

"What do you see?" he asked, turning toward the boys again but not looking at them.

"Monkeys wiggling in the creepers," Frank said.

"Filipinos," answered Pat.

"How many?" asked Ned.

"Well," replied Pat, "I thought I saw two, but I guess there is only one. We've got to get him," he added.

"Of course!" Frank said. "If we don't, he'll go back to camp and tell about seeing us here; then they'll swarm down on us, and it will be all off with the whole bunch of us. We've got to get him!"

"But how?" asked Pat.

In the short silence that followed all three boys cudgeled their brains for some idea which might serve, but the case was a.s.suming a hopeless aspect when a shrill voice in pretty good English came from the tree.

"Hi, there!" cried the voice.

"If that's Jimmie, made up as a little brown man," Pat said, "I'll beat him up when he comes aboard."

"More likely to be Jack," said Frank.

"Hi, there!" repeated the voice from the tree.

"That's not Jimmie, or Jack either," Ned said. "What do you want?" he asked.

The reply came in the form of a feline growl which might have issued forth from the throat of a wild cat.

"What does the badge say?" asked the voice, then.

The boys looked at each other in wonder for a moment and then Ned answered:

"Be prepared!"

"Now, what do you think of that?" Pat demanded. "What do you think of meeting a Boy Scout out here?"

"What patrol?" asked Frank, half doubting whether the person in the tree would find the correct answer.

"Wild Cat, Manila!" came the reply.

"Then come out of the tree, Wild Cat," Ned laughed, "and tell us how you came to be here."

There was a great rustling of foliage, and then a Filipino boy not more than fourteen years of age appeared on the trunk. He worked his way down and disappeared in the jungle. In a moment, however, he made his appearance on the margin of the little stream and was on board.

He was a rather good looking young fellow, with keen eyes and a lithe, muscular figure. He was well dressed in a suit of light material, and wore a Boy Scout badge on the lapel of his coat.

"We're gettin so we find 'em in the woods!" Frank said, as the boy stepped on the bridge deck. "Did you come to the island on the steamer which just pa.s.sed here?" he added, as the lad looked about him with a grin.

"Yes," was the reply. "Come as servant."

"Well, why aren't you on board now?" asked Frank, suspiciously.