"You're gettin' dippy!" Jimmie shouted, darting away to the spot where Ned and the Major were standing.
Directly a flag broke out over the tin roof and in a short time the boat was at the transport's side. Full of enthusiasm, and with high hopes for the immediate future, the boys and the Major descended to the shaky little craft and the transport steamed off, her rails lined with soldiers and civilians cheering the boys and wishing them good luck.
The last voice they heard as the boat crossed the bar and swung into the sluggish current of the river was that of Captain Helmer, who had made chums and companions of the boys on the way over.
"Good hunting!" he cried, through his megaphone, and the marine band struck up "Home, Sweet Home," "just to give us a cheerful mood on entering this desolate land!" as Major Ross declared.
"Do they all think we're goin' huntin'?" asked Jimmie, as the windrows of salt water heaped up by the transport grew smaller and lapped on the beach.
"Sure they do," replied Jack. "Do you think the Major told them we were going into the jungles to catch a few recruits for the federal prison at Manila? Nice thing, that would be!"
"There are just two persons, so far as I know, outside of the Secret Service headquarters at Washington, who know what we are up to," Major Ross said. "These are Colonel Hill, of the Canal Zone force, and Captain Godwin, who is to receive us here."
The brown oarsmen tugged and strained at the oars, and the waters of the river came up to the rim of the native boat and crept in and spread themselves over the rotten floor. The boys were all glad when the prow touched the little dock at the lone pueblo where Uncle Sam's flag snapped in a breeze which was coming over the trees, bringing with it a musty smell of decaying undergrowth.
Captain Godwin met them at the landing with great hand outstretched. He was a stout, brown-faced man of fifty, with muscles like iron and a mind all stuffed and tucked in with the glory of the United States. He was proud of the service he had passed the greater part of his life in, and was proud of the record for efficiency he had made. A kindly, bluff, seasoned old man of war, with soft blue eyes and a hard hand.
"I should have sent the Manhattan after you," he said, after introductions had been made, "only there's something the matter with her batteries."