he road
outside Manila, this first morning, that he might find a body of the
insurgents in possession of one of these towns. They were very bold,
he had heard, and they probably knew that there were no American troops
anywhere in the neighbourhood, outside the city of Manila itself. And,
knowing this, he knew they wouldn't hesitate to camp at the very gates
of the city, for they were marvellously successful in getting away into
the interior whenever an American force made its appearance.

As he thought of this possibility, Archie couldn't help being a little
fearful of what might happen to him should he fall into the hands of
the insurgents, and he began to wonder if he had not been a little
foolhardy, after all, in starting off on such a wild-goose chase. "But
I will have something new to send Mr. Van Bunting about the interior
towns," he said to himself, "and if I am captured, why, I will have a
great deal to write about when I am released." This thought made the lad
happy again, and he trudged along the road with as much vim and energy
as he had displayed during those weary days when he was walking to New
York to make his fortune. And it was a much more interesting country in
which to walk than the New York State counties had been. The vegetation
was rich and luxuriant everywhere, palm-trees, vines, and flowers
growing in profusion all along the road. In every dooryard, in front of
every hut, there grew what seemed to Archie a veritable fairy bower of
the most richly coloured flowers in existence. And they were growing,
apparently, without cultivation. He had seen nothing like them before,
even in California, and he longed to pluck some of them to send home, if
they had only been wax instead of nature's blossoms. As it was, he kept
his arms filled with them for awhile, but after a time he grew tired
carrying them, and was obliged to drop them by the roadside.

The country looked as if it might have been very prosperous at one
time. There were plantations laid out in excellent fashion, and the soil
seemed rich and fertile. But instead of growing crops, and storehouses
filled with spices and coffee, there was desolation everywhere, and it
was easy to see that the Spaniards had determined to leave but little
behind them for the Yankees. Every other farmhouse and wayside hut was
deserted, their occupants having gone, apparently, to join Aguinaldo,
and the whole country, outside the towns, seemed to be wholly deserted
an