Part 28 (1/2)
The scouts had brought in a dozen or more prisoners, and among them were a Filipino and a Spaniard, both of whom could speak English quite fluently. As soon as he could obtain permission, Ben hurried over to have a talk with the prisoners.
He found that the Filipino had belonged to those having some of the American prisoners in charge.
”And do you know anything of my brother?” he asked eagerly. ”He is a young sailor from the _Olympia_, and his name is Larry Russell.”
”Yes, yes, I know him,” answered the Filipino, nodding his head. ”He was at the cave where they have kept some of the prisoners for a long time.” And he described Larry so minutely that Ben felt there could be no mistake about the matter.
”Is my brother well? How do they treat him? Please tell me the truth.”
”You may not believe it, but we treat our prisoners good,” said the Filipino. ”And when I saw your brother last he was very well.”
”And where is this prison cave?”
At this the insurgent shrugged his shoulder. ”Now, _capitan_, you are asking me too much. I am pleased to tell you that your brother is safe. More than that I cannot tell, for it would not be right.”
This was not encouraging, yet Ben could not help but admire the prisoner's loyalty to his cause. ”Very well,” he said. ”I am thankful to know that my brother is well. I was afraid that prison life might make him sick.”
A little later the young captain got the chance to talk to the Spanish prisoner, who was making an application for his release, claiming that he was friendly to the United States and had never encouraged the rebels. Seldom had the young captain met more of a gentleman than Senor Romano proved to be.
”Ah, the war is terrible! terrible!” said the senor, after Ben had introduced himself. ”It is bloodshed, bloodshed, all the time. Where it will end, Heaven alone knows--but I am afraid the Filipinos will be beaten far worse than was my own country.”
”I think you are right there,” replied Ben. ”But we can't do anything for them now until they lay down their arms.”
”The war has ruined hundreds of planters and merchants,--whole fortunes have been swept away,--and the insurgents have levied taxes which are beyond endurance. To some, Aguinaldo is their idol, but to me he is a base schemer who wants everything, and only for his own glory. But he cannot hold out much longer,--you are pressing him into the very mountains,--and once away from the civilization of the towns, his followers will become nothing but _banditti_--mark me if it is not so.”
”You are a resident of Luzon?” went on Ben.
”Hardly. I belong in Spain--but I have lived here for several years.”
”Do you know one Benedicto Lupez, or his brother Jose.”
At this question the brow of Senor Romano darkened.
”Do I know them? Ah, yes, I know them only too well. They are rascals, villains, cheats of the worst order. I trust they are not your friends.”
”Hardly, although I should like first-rate to meet them, and especially to meet Benedicto.”
”And for what? Excuse my curiosity, but what can an American captain and gentleman like you have in common with Benedicto Lupez?”
”I want to get hold of some bank money that he carried off,” answered the young captain, and told the story of the missing funds and the part the Spaniard was supposed to have played in their disappearance.
”It is like Lupez,” answered Senor Romano. ”He is wanted in Cuba for having swindled a rich aunt out of a small fortune; and in Manila you will find a hundred people who will tell you that both brothers are rascals to the last degree, although, so far, they have kept out of the clutches of the law--through bribery, I think.”
”Not during General Otis's term of office?”
”No; before the city fell into your hands. The government was very corrupt and winked at Lupez's doings so long as he divided with certain officials.”
”And what did he work at?”