In a corner of one of the alcoves, where it had been thrown or wafted by the fan which swung from the ceiling at the middle of the room, was a twisted piece of letter paper burned at one end. It seemed to the boy that the paper had been twisted in the form of a torch and lighted to give a more satisfactory illumination than that provided by the matches which had been burned. It was about half consumed.
After spending half an hour in the room Ned went back to the porch and sat down.
"What about it?" asked Frank.
"The mud is settling," laughed Ned.
"But not so the bottom can be seen?" asked Captain Godwin with a smile.
"Not yet," was the reply. "Perhaps a little talk with the servant who was sent here with Lieutenant Rowe last night might help to clear the case," he added.
Captain Godwin beckoned to a short, squatty Filipino who stood leaning against a tree not far away and the fellow advanced deferentially up the bamboo stairs, evidently much in awe of the Americanos.
"Tag," the Captain said to him, as he stood with one brown hand clinging to one of the roof supports, "this gentleman wants to ask you a few questions about what took place last night."
"Yes; I have been waiting."
The English was almost perfect, and the fellow's appreciation of the gravity of the situation was apparent. It was later explained to Ned that Tag, as he was called by the Captain, had been educated in an English school at Manila, and had lived in army circles nearly all his life until he had taken service with Captain Godwin.