Then the new comer bent over the Army boy, and Overton knew him in an instant—Vicente Tomba.
"That hemp in your mouth looks as though it might give you discomfort—a thousand pardons," observed Tomba mockingly, as he removed the cord that held the hemp in place.
Tomba now squatted on the ground beside the young soldier's head and drew out the wad of hemp.
"So you are in this, Tomba?" inquired the Army boy coldly. "What's the game, anyway?"
"Possibly," sneered the Filipino, "when you know more, you'll feel like making a noise. Let me assure you that no friend will hear if you do call. But any great amount of noise on your part might provoke me, and that would not be wise under the circumstances."
Showing his white, even teeth in an evil smile, Tomba took out of the breast of his blouse a small, bright-bladed creese that might have been borrowed from one of the wall cases in Cerverra's shop.
"Why has this trick been played on me?" demanded Sergeant Hal angrily.
"A trick?" laughed Tomba softly. "Is that what you think it is? My friend, you will find that it is much more than a trick—it is a decree!"
"A decree?" raged Sergeant Overton. "What do you mean?"
"It is a decree from Señor Draney," went on Tomba coldly, maliciously. "It can do no harm to mention that name since you can never repeat it to anyone but me, for Señor Draney's decree is that, when you go forth from here—to-night—you will know nothing afterwards, for you will be past knowing."