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before? There might perfectly well have been a lot of them directly under them.”

“Yes,” said Cleary, “they might have grown up from the bottom of the sea. All sorts of queer things grow here. There might have been a sort of coral torpedoes.”

“Cleary, you’re getting more and more cynical every day. I wish you’d be more reasonable. What’s the matter with you?”

“It must be the newspaper business. And then you see I don’t wear a uniform either. That makes a lot of difference.”

In another hour they passed the scene of the great naval battle. They could just distinguish the hulks of the wrecks well in shore.

“And there’s Havilla!” cried Cleary.

And Havilla it was. They entered the great Oriental port with its crowded shipping. Small native boats were darting about between merchantmen and men-of-war. The low native houses, the fine buildings of the Castalian city, the palms, the Eastern costumes⁠—all made a scene not to be forgotten. An officer of the 200th Volunteer Infantry came on board before the steamer had come to her moorings, with orders for Captain Jinks to report at once at their headquarters in one of the public buildings of the city. A lieutenant was left in charge of the 200th’s detail, and Sam hastened ashore in a native boat and Cleary went with him. They had no difficulty in finding their way, and Sam was soon reporting to his chief, Colonel Booth, an elderly captain of the regular army, who had been placed at the head of this volunteer regiment. The colonel received him rather gruffly, and turned him over to one of his captains, telling him they would be quartered together. The colonel was inclined to pay no attention to Cleary, but when the latter mentioned the Benevolent Assimilation Company, Limited, he suddenly changed his tone and expressed great delight at meeting him. Sam and Cleary went off together with the captain, whose name was Foster, to visit the lodgings assigned by the colonel. They were in a building near by, which had been used as barracks by the Castalian army. A number of rooms had been fitted up for the use of officers, and Sam and Foster were to occupy one of these, an arrangement which promised to be most comfortable. Five companies of their regiment were quartered in the same building.

Cleary asked Foster’s advice as to lodgings for himself, and Foster took him off with him to find a place, while Sam was left to unpack his luggage which had just arrived from the ship. They agreed to meet again in the same room at nine o’clock in the evening.

It was somewhat after the hour fixed that the three men came together. Foster brought out a bottle of whisky from a cupboard and put it on the table by the water-jug, and then offered cigars. Sam had never smoked before, but he felt that a soldier ought to smoke, and he accepted the weed, and soon they were all seated, smoking and drinking, and engaged in a lively conversation. Foster had been in the Cubapines since the arrival of the first troops, and it was a treat for both of his interlocutors to hear all the news at first hand from a participant in the events.

“How were things when you got here?” asked Cleary.

“Well, it was like this,” answered Foster. “Nothing had happened then except the destruction of the fleet. Our fleet commanded the water of course, and the niggers had closed up round the city on land. The Castalians didn’t have anything but the city, and when we came we wanted to take the city.”

“Was Gomaldo in command of the Cubapino army then?” asked Sam.

“Yes, he has been from the beginning. He’s a bad lot.”

“How is that?” asked Cleary.

“Why, he has interfered with us all along as much as he could, just as if we didn’t own the place.”

“That’s just what I thought,” said Cleary. “The copperheads at home say we treated him as an ally, but of course that’s rubbish.”

“Of course,” said Foster, “we never treated him as an ally. We only brought him here and made use of him, supplying him with some arms and letting him take charge of some of our prisoners. We couldn’t tell him that we intended to keep the islands, because we were using him and couldn’t get on without him. He’s an ignorant fellow and hasn’t the first idea of the behavior of an officer and a gentleman.”

“Well, how did you take Havilla?” asked Sam.

“Oh, it was this way. The Castalians couldn’t hold out because these monkeys had the place so tight that they couldn’t get any provisions in. So they sent secret word to us that they would let us in on a certain day if we would keep the natives out. We agreed to this, of course. Then the Castalian general said that we must have some kind of a battle or he would be afraid to go home, and we cooked up a nice little battle. When the men got into it, however, it turned out to be quite a skirmish, and a number were killed on both sides. Then they surrendered and we went in and put a guard at the gates, and wouldn’t let the niggers in. You wouldn’t believe it, but they actually kicked at it. They’re an unreasonable, sulky lot of beggars.”

“Then what happened after that?” asked Sam.

“Oh, after that we sent the Castalians home and the Cubapinos moved back their lines a little, and we agreed to a sort of neutral zone and a line beyond which we weren’t to go.”

“What was it that started the fighting between us and them?” said Sam.

“It’s a little mixed up. I was at the theater that night, and in the middle of the play we heard firing, and all of us rushed off and found everything in motion, and it grew into a regular fight. We made them move back, and before long the firing ceased. I tried to

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