“Yes, in a few minutes. I must see to my men first. I’ll come to your office, if you like.”
The serjeant grinned as he saluted. “I wanted to see you about those, Senor,” jerking his thumb in the direction of his prisoners. “I received them from—from the Chief of the Mountains himself. He said they must be hanged. One is Juan Vagas, and the other three are his chief lieutenants.”
Basil drew a quick breath. Juan Vagas! So he had him, after all. He strode over to them, and, when Juan Vagas saw the look in his face, he knew that there would be no escape this time.
The serjeant, who was standing beside Captain Hayle, nodded with a kind of grim satisfaction. “Doubtless they will rebuild the gallows at Calocan now, Senor. You do not remember the old ones on which they hanged Cinicio Dagujob and his friends many years ago, when I first came to this island from Samar. I was only a little boy then, but I can recall how this same Felizardo, who is now in the mountains, fought the ladrones behind old Don José’s warehouse, and how the old corporal of the Guardia Civil had to hurry on the hanging of those Felizardo had wounded. Without question, these ladrones here will meet Cinicio in purgatory, somewhere near the big fire.” Then he drew his officer to one side and spoke very gravely. “Senor, the Presidente has been trying to get the prisoners. I had to tell the men to load with ball cartridge. That Vagas is a friend of the Presidente’s, and if they got them into the gaol there would be an escape to-night.”
“I understand,” Basil nodded; he realised now that this attack on Igut was only a part of a widespread conspiracy against American rule, and the moment he had seen the prisoners he had decided himself to take them into Manila, and fight the question out there. “I understand, serjeant,” he repeated. “They are to be delivered to no one without my orders. Where is Serjeant Reyes? Tell him to get ten men and take the prisoners into that shed at the back of Ah Lung’s store. You and these other men had better go and get some rest now. I will see the Presidente myself.”
The Presidente was pacing up and down his room when Basil entered. The Constabulary officer wasted no words. “I hear you have demanded those prisoners, Senor. By what authority do you threaten my men?”
The official stuttered a little. “I—I represent the civil arm, Senor, and these—these ladrones should be lodged in gaol.”
Basil laughed in a rather disconcerting fashion. “I, too, represent the Civil Government,” he retorted; “and I am going to take those prisoners into Manila. I have heard of escapes from Igut Gaol.” His tone suddenly became severe, almost fierce. “Take care, Senor. Be very careful. I am inclined to carry you along with me as a prisoner too. Probably I shall come for you later, unless you can clear yourself meanwhile. And now you will send to the gaol for four sets of irons, and have them delivered, without delay, to Serjeant Reyes, in the shed at the back of Ah Lung’s store.”
The Presidente gave the order with shivering reluctance; then Basil seated himself at the table, in the official’s own chair. “Have you a return of the dead found this morning? Let me see it.” But the moment he set eyes on the document, he tore it across. “You head it ‘List of Felizardo’s brigands killed by the Town Police, the Scouts, and the Constabulary’!” he stormed. “How dare you! You know as well as I do that they were insurrectos, and nothing whatever to do with Felizardo. As for your Town Police and Scouts——” He laughed scornfully. “And now make me out a proper return and sign it.”
When, half an hour later, Captain Hayle took his leave, he left a sad and perspiring Presidente behind him, one who had reached the point of wondering whether it would not be wiser, after all, to retire to Hong Kong. In the end, however, the official decided to stay, mainly because he knew that the next coastguard steamer, that which was expected in during the course of the afternoon, would inevitably have as passengers Basil Hayle and Juan Vagas.