"What we need, in dealing with the Moros in these southern islands, is to show them that——"
Just then the speaker happened to turn, and stopped talking for a moment.
The voice was new, but Sergeant Overton started at sight of the speaker's face.
"Why, that's the same big, florid-faced fellow that I saw in the shed with Tomba, that time it rained so hard," flashed through the young sergeant's astonished mind. "What can he be doing here—a cabin passenger on a United States troop ship?"
Unconsciously Hal was staring hard at the stranger. It appeared to annoy the florid-faced man.
"Well, my man," he cried impatiently, looking keenly at Hal, "are you waiting to say something to me?"
"No, sir," Sergeant Hal replied quickly.
"Perhaps you thought you knew me?"
"No, sir; I merely remembered having once seen you."
"You've seen me before? Then your memory is better than mine, Sergeant. Where have you ever seen me before?"