Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1901-10-19
CHAPTER XIV.

mat nlghJ the SenJrleS, softly
lighted by waning old moon, were
on the lookout everywhere among
the suburbs for two malefactors dis
tinctly differing in type, yet equally
in demand. One, said the descrip-
tions, was a burly, thick-set, some
what slouching American, in cloth
ing of the sailor slop-shop variety,
man of five feet six and maybe 40
years, though he might be much
younger; a coarse-featured, heavy
bearded man, with gray eyes, gener-
ally bleary, and one front tooth
gone, leaving a gap in the upper jaw
next the canine, which was fang
like, yellow and prominent; a man
with harsh voice and surly ways;
man known as Sackett among sea-
men and certain civilians who prob
ably had made their way to Manila
in the hopes of picking up an easy
living; man wanted as Murray
among soldiers for deserter, jail
bird and thief.
The other malefactor was less min
utely described. A native five feet
eight, perhaps. Very tall for a Tagal,
slender, sinewy and with a tuft of
why hair and 16 inches of shirt miss
ing. ''For further particulars and
the missing 16 inches, as well as the
hair, inquire at Col. Brent's, No. 1919
Gale San Luis, Ermita.''
1t seems that soon after dark that
eventful evening Mrs. Brent and Miss
Porter had seen Maidie comfortably
bestowed in the big, broad, cane-bot-
toned bed in her airy room, and had
left her to all appearances sleeping
placidly towards eight o'clock, and
then gone out to dinner. Whatever
the cause of her agitation on receiv-
ing at Brent's hands the little card
photograph of herself, it had sub
sided after a brief, low-toned con-
ference with Sandy, who quickly
came and speedily fastened away,
and a later visit from DR.. Frank,
whose placid, imperturbable, restful
ways were in themselves well-nigh
as soothing as the orange-fower wa
ter prescribed for her. Even the lit
tie night-light, floating in it's glass,
had been extinguished when the la
dies left her.
The room assigned to Marion was
at the northwest corner of the house.
It's two front windows opened on the
wide gallery, that in turn opened out
on the Bagum bayan parade. It's west
windows, also two in number, were
heavily framed. There were sliding
blinds to oppose to the westering
sun, translucent shells in place of
brittle glass to temper, yet admit,
the daylight, and hanging curtains
that slid easily on their supporting
rods and rendered the room dark as
could be desired for the siesta hours
of the tropic day.
The dinnet' table, brightly lighted
by lamps hung from hooks securely
driven in the upper beams Gath and
plaster are unknown in this seismic
land), was set on the rear gallery
overlooking the patio, and here, soon
after eight, Brent, his little house
hold, the doctor and two more guests
were cozily chatting and dining, while
noiseless native servants lowered
about and Maidie Ray presumably
slept.
of a new anxiety, if not of dread,
end needing to think calmly and
clearly, she had turned away from
her almost too assiduous attendants
and closed her eyes upon the world
about her. perplexity, problem
such as never occurred to her as
possibility, one that sorely worried
Sandy, as she could plainly see, had
suddenly been thrust upon her. Eith-
erto she had ever had a most devoted
mother as her counselor and friend,
but now time had come when she
must think and act for herself.
The little card photograph picked
up by the men on the scene of the
scufIie at the edge of the Bagum-
bayan had told its story to her at
least and to Sandy. 1t could only
mean that Foster, he who spent
whole days and weeks at their New
Mexican station to the neglect of his
cattle ranch, he who had listed in
the cavalry and disappeared-deser
ed, maybe-at Carquinez, had eluded
search, pursuit, inquiry of every kind,
and, all ignorant, probably, of the
commission obtained for him, had.
still secretly, as though realizing his
danger, followed her to Manila.
This, then, must have been the tall
stranger who called himself an old
friend and would give no name, for
1t was to Foster, in answer to his most
urgent plea-perhaps touched by his
devoted love for her lovely daugh-
ter-that Mrs. Ray had given that
little vignette photograph long
months before. There, on the back.
was the date in her mothers hand:
Fort Averill, n Mex, February Is.
1885, Well did Marion remember
how he had begged her to write her
name beneath the picture, and how,
for some reason she herself could not
describe, she had shrunk from so
doing. There had been probably half
dozen pictures of Foster about their
quarters at photographs in
evening dress, in ranch rig, in winter
garb, in tennis costume-but only one
had he of Maidie, and that not of her
giving.
Now whao could his corning mean?
what madness prompted this stealth
ana secrecy? If innocent of wilIfu1
desertlon, his proper course was to
nave reported without delay to the
military authorities at San Francisco
and told the cause of his disappear-
ance or detention. But he had evil
IDENTITY done nothing of the kind.
They would surely have heard of If.
and now he was here, still virtually