Adventure, August 3, 1919 — page 108: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

“That's just the trouble with you, Datto. You think only of such cheap trash as rice and byllocks and potatoes. Forget that stuff and go after the big»game. Now, these Catholic churches over in Mindanao have gold candlesticks and gold cups they call chalices, and the padres have got all kinds of gold money and precious stones. What we want to dois to rig up some good, strong double outriggers that will stand a trip from here to the coast of Mindanao, go over in small parties and relieve these church gentlemen of their wealth. They took it from the poor devils over there, and it’S past time that somebody took it from them. “And another thing, Datlo. Any of these filibusters who'll be willing to run guns in here to us won't be willing to accept Spanish money or gold candlesticks. Either one would create suspicion against them. But convert everything into jewels—diamonds, rubies, pearls and the like—and they'll take those fast enough.” ; The daito had fallen in readily enough with both ideas. The outriggers were built, and the business of robbing churches and almost everything else was promptly begun. The results were highly pleasing to Crawson and Datto Parang but deeply distressing to numerous padres. The hard part, however, for Crawson, had been to keep Parang from buying guns in small quantities and thus preventing the accumu- lation from reaching the intended amount. But finally he convinced the datio that it was safer to take one big chance of landing all the guns and ammunition at one time than to risk a number of small shipments. Thus the wealth now in hand had reached the five-hundred-thousand-dollar mark. There was no excuse for further delay. In fact, Crawson did not wish to delay any longer. The time had come to gather the fruit of his labor and his planning. The little box had been brought out on this particular occasion to put into it more gems—the result of the last raid. Crawson drew from his pocket a small leather bag and poured its contents into the box. Parang closed and locked it, rose and took it into an adjoining raom—his own sleeping- apartment. Crawson wished that he knew the exact hiding-place for the box, but several subtle attempts to find out had failed. When the dailo returned, Crawson looked large brass lamp and stood waiting to the way to Crawson’s apartment. “ The white man rose and started to follow the servant; then he stopped suddenly as if he had just thought of something. “Ah,” he said, “I must-not forget my little courtesy.” ' _ He opened his cigaret case and studied its contents closely for a moment. Then | he carefully selected a cigaret, placed it : tween the datto’s lips and held out a : match. This was a custom which Crawsen had established early in his associations with Datto Parang. “Tt is a token of my loyalty,” he told the daito on that first occasion. The Mohammedan had been much flat- tered, and since that time they had never . parted until the little ceremony was per- formed. When he reached his room, Crawson went to bed but not to sleep. He did not want to sleep. Besides, his nerves were taut, and he fought continually to suppress excitement. Finally he lit a cigaret. It was a native production, and he threw it away in disgust, found a brown paper and some American tobacco and rolled a smoke. Then he settled back and in the pages of a six-months-old Smet tried to forget the passing of time. Nevertheless, he looked at his watch often, and at last the hands pointed to one o’clock. He judged that the time for his work had arrived. He arose, dressed in an outfit of native clothes instead of his uniform and buckled about his waist a belt to which hung two large revolvers and one small kris, The belt contained one hundred cartridges. Crawson made his way without a sound back to the big room and with his left hand gently tried the door to Parang’s bedroom while his right hand gripped the hilt of the small kris. He was not sure that covered, a pistol-shot was out of the —s eee ee a —_— ) | : 7 .