The sounds of conflict had already died out in the front office, and another visit from the evil-faced detective was momentarily expected, so Jimmie was urged to make the proposed attempt to reach Hans at once.

He passed out of the window, crossed the beaten earth floor of the court, and began to climb. Ned was pleased to see that he had little difficulty in ascending to the window. Once there he heard him rap on the pane. There was a pause, and then the boy pushed up the sash and clambered inside.

Ned was glad to see that the boy had the good judgment to draw the sash down, as soon as he was in the room. What he would discover there the watcher had no idea.

He might find Hans there under guard. He might discover, when it was too late, that the German had been, unwillingly, used as a decoy by cunning natives into whose hands he might have fallen.

Still, there were the signals! The natives could not have known of the Boy Scout system of warnings, and Hans would certainly have volunteered nothing in the way of allurement.

He watched the window for what seemed to him to be a very long time. The pane remained dark.

"If the lad finds the situation favorable," Ned thought, "he may not return here at all. I should have instructed him to leave the room by the main stairway, if possible, and return to the marines. It would look comfortable, just now, to see that file of bluecoats marching into the telegraph office."

However, there was now no help for the omission, and Ned waited with varying emotions for some sign from the window. None came, but presently the door of the rear room was opened and the detective blustered in.

"Where is the other prisoner?" he demanded, looking keenly about the room. "He was here not long ago. Where is he?"

"Didn't you see him crowd out with the marine officer?" asked Ned.

"He was here after that fellow left," was the reply. "But he can't escape from the building," he added, "for every avenue is guarded, and the chap the cablegram belongs to has just asked for it!"



CHAPTER IX

TRICKS THAT WERE VAIN

Ned eyed the bullying detective keenly. He did not believe that the cablegram had been demanded by another. That was only a pretext on the part of his enemies to make their attitude of delay appear more reasonable. If, as was claimed, the message was now claimed by two, the holders would certainly be justified in using great caution in delivering it.

He did not believe, either, that the telegraph officials had been nervy enough to resort to police protection. That would be to bring the matter into the courts, and he did not think those who were opposing him would care for that.

"You are not telling the truth," he said, coolly, to the detective. "No one here could honestly claim the message, because no one in Tientsin, previous to my arrival, knew there was such a message here, if I except the telegraph people and the man who sent it. If a claimant has shown up, he is acting under instructions from you."

"You are deceiving yourself!" snarled the other.

"Where is Captain Martin, of the marines?" asked Ned, not caring to dispute the point. "If you have arrested him, you'll be having his men after you before morning."

"You mean the men you left in the cornfield?"

"Certainly, the United States marines."

"Then you don't know that they have gone back to Taku?"

"No; neither do you," replied Ned. This was too cheap!

"But, they have," insisted the detective. "At least, they have disappeared from the camp in the cornfield."

"You seem pretty well posted as to our doings," said the boy.

"We are pretty well informed as to all crooks who come here," was the reply.

"What are you going to do about delivering the cablegram?" Ned asked, ignoring the insult.

"Wait until morning and deliver it to the American consul."

"In America," Ned said, with a provoking smile, "we elect men of your slant of mind to the Ananias club."

"You'll see," was the reply. "In the meantime, you are in custody."

Where was Jimmie? Had he escaped from the building, or was he detained in the room he had surreptitiously entered? If he had indeed escaped, would he have the good sense to hasten to the camp instead of trying to assist his chum single-handed?

Ned asked himself these questions, but could find no answer. He saw that the detective was not inclined, not yet desperate enough, to march him off to prison, however, and took courage from the fact. If he could secure a short delay all might yet be well.

Directly the assistant manager entered the room, frowning and red of face. Ned saw that something, perhaps something of importance to himself, was in progress on the outside.

"The American consul is out there," he exclaimed, storming about the little room.

"That's fine!" cried Ned. "I presume I can see him?"

The detective glared at the boy and shook his head.

"No, you can't," he declared. "You'll stay here."

"And in the meantime you'll tell him that I have gone away?"

"We'll tell him what we choose."

Ned made a quick dash for the door, tipped the assistant manager over a broken-backed chair which stood in the way, and passed into the outer office. The detective grabbed at him as he sped past, but the boy eluded the ham-like hands which were thrust forward.

There were three persons in the office, when Ned bolted into it. These were the operator, the American consul, and Hans! The German grinned in an apologetic way as Ned hastily greeted him.

The American consul was a pleasant-faced gentleman of middle age. He was dressed in rather sporty clothes, and there was just a hint of a swagger of importance in his walk and manner as he extended his hand to Ned. Dressler-Archibald Hewitt Dressler, to be exact—was a pretty fair sample of the keen, open-hearted corn-belt politician rewarded with a foreign appointment for rounding up the right crowd at the right time.

Ned was glad to see that the consul recognized him as the lad in whose interest he had been pulled out of bed. He took the official's outstretched hand and shook it warmly.

"I never was so glad to see any person in my life!" Ned exclaimed, while Hans stood by with that bland German smile on his face.

"Oh, we'll have this mess straightened out in no time," the consul said. "These people," with a gesture toward the operator, the assistant manager, and the detective, "are all right. They mean to do the fair and honorable thing, but they have troubles of their own. We'll have this all ironed out in no time."

"This kid is an impostor!" shouted the detective.

"No hard names, please," said the consul. "Let us get at the facts of the case. You claim to be Ned Nestor?" turning to the boy.

"That is my name, sir."

"And you claim a cablegram which is here? A cablegram in cipher—the cipher code of the Secret Service of the United States government?"

"Yes, it would naturally be in cipher."

"You have the key to the code?"

"Certainly."

"Be careful, young man," laughed the consul, "for I was in the Secret Service department before I came here, and know the code."

"I'm glad you do," replied Ned.

"Hand me the cablegram," ordered the consul, turning to the assistant manager.

The detective stepped forward with a frown on his face. He glared at the consul and at Ned for a moment, and then broke out:

"You can't have it unless you will promise not to reveal its contents to this impostor."

"Can't I?" said the consul, coolly. "Hand me the cablegram."

The operator and the assistant manager drew back. The consul stood for an instant regarding them angrily.

"One, two, three!" he said. "At the word three, pass it over!"

"Goot sphort, dot feller!" whispered Hans.

During the dead silence which followed Ned watched the face of the consul for some sign of weakening, but found none. He knew that he had come upon an official who would stand by his guns, no matter what took place.

There was a little crowd in front of the office, and half a dozen faces were pressed against the windows and the glass panel of the door. Ned thought he saw a face there he had last seen in the old house at Taku where he had been captured. The fellow carried a long cicatrice on his left cheek.

"What do you mean by coming in here and giving orders?" demanded the detective. "I'll put you out if the manager says the word."

Ned, standing close to Hans, felt the muscles of the German's great arm swell under the sleeve. Hans was evidently anticipating trouble.

"Will you deliver the cablegram?" asked the consul.

"I will not."

As the assistant manager spoke the detective reached his hand up to the electric light switch. Ned saw in an instant what his intention was. If the room should be suddenly thrown into darkness, the operator might escape with the cablegram.

The consul, too, saw what was meditated and sprang forward. The detective struck at him, but before his blow reached its intended mark, Hans struck and the detective went down as suddenly as if he had been hit with an ax. Then, from unseen places, from beneath counters and out of closets, came a horde of Chinamen. The room was full of them.

"Soak um!" cried Hans.

The German was about to adopt his own suggestion by passing a blow out to the nearest Chinaman when the consul stepped before him. For an instant the threatening natives stepped back. The attacking of the American consul was a thing to be seriously considered.

"Once more!" warned the consul. "Give me the cablegram."

At a motion from the assistant manager the brown men closed threateningly about the American again. There was malice in their eyes as they pressed closer and closer.

"This looks like another Boxer uprising!" exclaimed the consul. "Mr. Nestor," he added, "if you will assemble yourself at my back, and our German friend will stand by, we'll give 'em a run for their white alley. Hit hard and often."

There is no knowing what might have happened then had not an interruption fell. Ned saw the crowd at the door vanish, and the next instant the friendly popping of motorcycles rang a chorus in the air.

Then came the rattle of guns and sabers, and a line of bluecoats stood before the door. At their head stood Jimmie, wrinkling his freckled nose as if for dear life.

Ned sprang to the door and opened it.

"Quick!" he cried. "Don't let a man now in the room get away."

"Where is Captain Martin, the officer in charge?" asked one of the men.

"The Chinks can tell you," Ned answered. "Close up at the doors," he went on, gazing about excitedly, "so that no one can leave."

This was done instantly. In fact, the natives and the men of the telegraph office were not in a fighting mood now. The guns and sabers of the marines had brought them to a peace-loving state of mind!

They huddled about in the center of the room, the natives milling around like cattle in a storm. The assistant manager pushed out of the press and handed the consul the cablegram.

"Understand that I am doing this under protest," he said. "Your conduct in invading my office with armed men shall be reported."

"I shall welcome any investigation," the consul replied, with a smile, "because I want to know something of your motives in doing what you have done to-night. You know very well that the cablegram is of no importance to any person except the one to whom it is addressed. I can read the code, it is true, but you doubtless overlooked the fact that I have received such dispatches here. So, let us look at the matter in a reasonable light. What inducements were offered you to keep the cablegram away from this young man? Speak up!"

"You are insulting"' gasped the assistant manager.

"Come down to cases!" commanded the consul.

"I don't understand your Bowery slang."

"How much money was offered you to hold this message?"

There was no answer, but the operator glanced slyly in the direction of the consul with a frightened look in his eyes.

"Were you to withhold the message altogether, or were you merely to delay this young man?"

"You are insulting!" repeated the other.

"Who bribed you?" came the next question, snapped out like the crack of a lash.

"You have the message," the assistant manager said. "Get out."

"Only for the marines you'd put me out!" laughed the consul.

"Indeed I would!"

Hans made a threatening gesture toward the fellow and he hastened to the protection of the counter.

"My office is only a short distance away," said the consul, turning to Ned. "We may as well go there and size this extraordinary situation up. I hardly know what to make of it."

"There is one thing you, perhaps, do not understand," Ned said, "and that is that Captain Martin, in charge of this squad, has been taken into custody by order of the detective Hans knocked out a moment ago."

The consul's face turned red with anger. He seized the assistant manager by the shoulder and shook him, over the counter, as a dog shakes a rat.

"Where is he?" he demanded. "Tell your hirelings to bring him here, not soon, but now."

"He assaulted me!" complained the manager.

"Produce him! One, two, three. At the third word he comes!"

Obeying a motion from the frightened man, a native opened a door back of the counter and Captain Martin was pushed out into the room, smiling and evidently enjoying the situation.

"I could have butted out at any moment," he said, "for these Chinks are not fighters, but I heard what was going on out here and thought I'd let events shape themselves. If I had been out here a short time ago I am afraid I should have made trouble for myself and for you."

"It is nice to watch a game that you can't lose at," laughed the consul. "Come along, with your men, to my office. This lad wants a chance to read his message."

"Sure," was the reply. "I want to know how that Dutchman come to bring you here, and how my men managed to get here just in time. There are mysteries to explain. What?" he added, with a laugh.

"I guess we'll have to wait for explanations until we know what is in this message," Ned said. "Come along to the office, Mr. Consul, for we have lost a lot of time already."

"I am anxious to know what the message contains," said the consul.



CHAPTER X

THE DARK ROAD TO PEKING

Half an hour later the American consul, Captain Martin, and Ned sat in a private room at the consulate. The marines and Jimmie and Hans were in the large outer room.

The cablegram from Washington lay open on a table with a translation by its side. It read:

"Proceed to Peking immediately and report to the American ambassador. Keep within reach of the flying squadron. Avoid complications with the natives. Look out for plots to delay your party. Important that you should reach Peking at once. Wire conditions."

"Not much news in that," said Ned. "Guess we've met all the trouble the Washington people anticipated."

"Shall you go on to-night?" asked the Captain.

"Certainly."

"It is a dark, rainy night," the consul warned, "and the highways of China are none too safe, even in daylight, for American messengers who are insufficiently guarded."

"We'll look out for our part of the game," Captain Martin laughed.

"We'll, keep close together," advised the consul. "You will meet trouble on the way. The men who bribed the telegraph people will not get into the discard now. You'll find their hirelings waiting out on the dark road to Peking."

Ned pointed to the dispatch.

"We've got to go," he said. "I can't tell you how thankful I am to have met a true American here," he added, extending his hand to the consul. "I shall tell the story of to-night in the State department at Washington when I get back."

"Well, get it straight," laughed the consul. "Say that a blundering German boy, who said he was a Boy Scout from Philadelphia, nearly dragged me out of bed about midnight and informed me that other Boy Scouts were in trouble at the telegraph office. I knew that Ned was expected here, and so lost no time in getting down. That's all. The marines did the rest."

"Save for that beautiful bluff of yours!" laughed Ned. "But how in the Dickens did Hans ever get to you? How did he know where to go? How did he get to Tientsin, anyway?"

"Give it up!" smiled the consul. "You might as well ask me who got the marines out just in the nick of time."

"Jimmie did that, of course," replied Ned. "I think I know all about it now," he added. "We saw Hans in a room opening on the court. The little fellow burglarized the window and found Hans. I don't know how Hans got there, but Jimmie found him, anyway. Then the kid told his story and Hans went to the consul and Jimmie went after the flying squadron. I have a notion that this is the way it came about."

In this supposition Ned was exactly right, for Jimmie had found Hans in the room off the court and the two had planned their movements just as Ned explained. The only mystery was as to how Hans got to the Tientsin house and the room where he was found.

"We'll learn all about that in time," Ned added. "Now we must be off. By the way, I wonder where Jack and Frank are? I haven't seen them since I left the camp. In the rush of events I quite forgot to ask for them."

"Just wait until I talk with one of the boys out here," the Captain said. "Probably Jimmie is already telling them of his adventures."

But when the door was opened and Jimmie questioned he opened his eyes wide in wonder. The Captain drew him into the private room.

"Say," the boy said, excitement in voice and manner, "didn't you leave Frank and Jack at the camp when you left?"

"Why, I left when you did," was the reply. "They were there then."

Jimmie sprang to the door and beckoned the second in command into the room. By this time both Ned and the consul were on their feet.

"Where did you leave Frank and Jack?" asked Ned, as the officer entered the apartment.

"They left us," replied the officer, with hesitation. "We made our beds of blankets and tumbled in, leaving one man on guard. When I turned in the boys were in their bunks. When Jimmie awoke us, they were nowhere to be seen. They probably sneaked off to have a look at Tientsin by night—and a beautiful time they will have."

"Didn't you see them when you went back?" asked Ned of Jimmie.

"No; I looked for them, and one of the marines told me they had gone on ahead. I'm goin' out an' dig 'em up!"

"You'll make a sweet fist of digging them up in this man's town, at this hour of the night," the consul declared, anxiety showing on his face. "You'll have to leave them, Mr. Nestor," he went on, "and I'll rake the city with a fine tooth comb but I'll find them."

Ned hesitated. There was the cablegram on the table. A delay of an hour or two might not prove serious, but this search for Frank and Jack might occupy days, if not weeks!

It was inconceivable that the boys, disregarding all instructions from the Captain and all warnings from Ned, should have stolen off into the city for a night ramble. They both knew how much depended on the party keeping together and keeping prepared for action.

"They must have had some reason for leaving the camp," Ned said, after a long pause. "They never would have gone away without some object other than amusement, or love of adventure in their minds."

Captain Martin went to the door and stepped out into the main office, facing the marines.

"Boys," he said, in as matter-of-fact tone as he could assume, "what did Frank and Jack say when they left the camp?"

Nine of the men looked up in wonder, but the tenth hastened to answer the question.

"Not a word," he said. "I was on guard, and I saw a young chap come into the little bit of light there was about the old house where we were stopping."

"Who was it?" Ned interrupted.

The marine shook his head.

"I didn't ask him who he was," he said. "He asked where the boys were, and said he was a Boy Scout from Boston, and wanted to see some one from home. I knew that the lads would be as glad to see him as he would be glad to see them, and showed him where they had bunked down in a little dog-house of a shack just outside the house."

"And they went away with this fellow?" asked Ned, anxious to get the story in as few words as possible. "Why didn't you notify the officer then in charge of the squad?"

"I didn't think it was necessary," was the reply. "Well, the kid went to the shack where Frank and Jack were, and I saw them talking together there for a few minutes. Then I saw the three of them pass through the circle of light, walking toward the city, and that's all I know about it. I wasn't under orders to tell them when to go, or where to go, or when not to go. It wasn't for me to interfere."

"Bonehead!" exclaimed Jimmie.

The marine glanced up at the little fellow with a frown.

"Don't you go to abusing me," he said. "I won't stand for it. I was raised a pet!" he added, with a smile, as the boy grinned.

"Stop that!" commanded the Captain, sharply. "If you have told all you know about the matter you may go."

"'Wait," Ned said, as the marine moved toward the door, "I would like to ask a question. Would you know this lad you speak of if you should see him again?"

"I don't think so. It was dark, and he didn't look me squarely in the face."

"That's all," Ned said, turning to the consul. "You'll do what you can to find them?" he asked.

"Sure I will!"

"I can't remain and help you," Ned went on, and there was a tremble in his voice. "I've got my work to do."

"I understand."

"And we'll start right away," Ned continued, "if you are ready, Captain. We ought to be in Peking early in the morning."

"It is a bad road," the consul said, "and you'll find, echoes of the scrap you had here waiting for you along the way. In the language of the cablegram, keep together!"

When all were mounted there were still two vacant cycles—those the missing boys had ridden. Ned pointed to one and spoke to Hans:

"Can you ride?"

"Sure!"

"Then you may take one of the machines and come along with us."

Hans sprang onto one of the motorcycles just as he had observed the others do. Under the impetus of the leap the machine trundled along for a few feet and tipped over, landing Hans on his back with the rear wheel scraping acquaintance with his nose.

"Ouch!" he shouted. "Dake him off! He bites! Vot issit if I hand himone? Vot?"

While the others were laughing at the plight of the German, he made an effort to arise and the machine promptly slid down an incline and sparked and gyrated until Hans' hair fairly stood on end with fright.

"Catch heem!" he shouted. "Catch heem! He runs py the road avay! Dunner! Vot a streets!"

"You mustn't tickle his ribs with your heels when you get on," advised Jimmie. "That always makes him buck. It is a wonder he didn't tramp you when you were down."

"Holy schmoke!" cried Hans. "Vot a nose I vill haf! Me for the walks to Peeging!"

"I guess you'll have to give up going with us"' laughed Ned. "You may remain with the consul until we return. And help him hunt Frank and Jack, will you?"

Hans willingly agreed to this, and, with many handshakes and well-wishes from the consul, the boys were off for Peking. By this time the streets were rather quiet, although they knew that before they could pass beyond the limits of the great, sprawling town with its million of inhabitants dawn would be showing in the sky.

The swift ride through the city was a revelation to the American boys. All was strange with an atmosphere of age and decay. The habitations, save those occupied by foreigner—and these were grouped together—were mostly old and mean. The streets were in bad condition—worse than usual because of the softening effects of the rain—and the lights were, in places, infrequent.

Watchmen patrolling the thoroughfares in the idle manner peculiar to all alleged guardians of the night, gazed menacingly at the machines as they whirled by, talking in their spark language, as Jimmie expressed it, but the uniforms kept them at a respectful distance. Here and there were little tea shops, and before these were groups of natives, circled close together.

It seemed to Ned like a ride through a cemetery, the occupants of which had been awakened to life for an instant and would go back to their graves and their dreamless sleep again as soon as the machines had passed. The weight of ten thousand centuries seemed to hang over the place.

There was a faint line of dawn in the direction of the Yellow Sea when the boys came to the suburbs of Tientsin. Before them lay nearly eighty miles of rough road to the capital city. With good luck, they figured that they could make that in four hours.

Now, at dawn, the road which curved like a ribbon before them, started into life. From field and village streamed forth natives carrying and drawing all kinds of burdens. In that land the poor are obliged to be early astir, and even then the reward of their labors is small.

It was autumn, and the produce of the field was ripe for barter. There were loads attached to horses and loads drawn in carts; there were 'rickshaws, and bundles on backs, and on long poles carried over bent shoulders.

The strange procession of the motorcycles and the marines caused many a surprised halt in the procession of industry. Chinamen stood at one side while the steel horses shot by them, and then gathered in little groups by the wayside to discuss this newest invention of the foreign devils.

The sun rose in a cloudless sky and the earth steamed under its rays, sending back in eddying mist the rain which had poured upon her with such violence the night before. It would be a hot day, notwithstanding the lateness of the season, and the eyes of the boys soon turned to a shaded grove not far from the highway.

"Me for breakfast!" Jimmie declared, and the marines looked as if the lad had echoed their own thoughts.

"We may as well halt a little while," Captain Martin said to Ned, "as my boys are beginning to look empty. They have had a hard night of it, and we can't afford to cultivate any grouches!"

Ned, although he was anxious to go forward, saw good judgment in this and ordered a halt. In five minutes little fires were burning in the grove and the odor of steaming coffee soon rose softly with the mists of the morning.



CHAPTER XI

THE MYSTICISM OF THE EAST

"You remember what the consul said regarding trouble on the road to Peking?" asked Ned of Captain Martin as the two took seats under a tree not far from the cooking fires.

"Yes, and I wondered at his expressing such gloomy predictions. He gave me quite a scare."

"I think I understand, now, why he did it," Ned said, with a smile. "He was following instructions."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean that he had been communicated with by the Washington office, during the day, and given instructions."

"To scare you?"

"No; to keep me up to the mark in caution."

"I don't think you needed that."

"Well," Ned went on, "this is a queer case. At first I could not make up my mind why the Secret Service people insisted on my making this trip to Peking on a motorcycle, guarded by soldiers like a passenger in time of war. Now I think I know."

"Then you have the advantage of me," said the officer. "I've been thinking that over quite a lot, and the answer is still to find."

"Unless I am mistaken," Ned replied, "I am expected to do my work on the way to Peking."

"Come again!" smiled the Captain.

"In other words," replied Ned, "I'm set up on a motorcycle as a mark for the diplomats of Europe to shoot at."

"Then I must be a mark, also," grumbled the Captain.

"Exactly. How do you like it?"

"Oh, it isn't so bad!" smiled the other, won into better humor by the laughing face of the boy. "But why should the Secret Service department put you in such peril?"

"It is my notion," Ned hastened to say, in defense of his superior officers, "that they give me credit for sense enough to take care of myself. The same with regard to you."

"But why—"

"It seems to me," Ned interrupted, "that the department is up against a tough proposition. The matter is so delicate that no foreign government can be accused of mixing this conspiracy for Uncle Sam. What remains to do, then, is to spot the tools being used by the power that is most active."

"That's good sense."

"Well, we can't spot them in Washington, nor in Tientsin, nor yet in the American embassy at Peking. Where, then, but on the road—on the road where they are striving with all their might to block the progress of the agent who is trying to land them?"

Captain Martin mused a moment and then broke into a laugh.

"And so," he said, "you think we are spread out along this road for the conspirators to grab off?"

"If they can, of course; but that is not stating the case right. We are spread out along the road to Peking to catch the men who will try to stop us. See? We are here to watch for those who will try to catch us, and to catch them! What do you think of that?"

"Clever!" exclaimed the Captain.

"The system is an old one in detective work," Ned explained. "It is no unusual thing for an officer to permit a prisoner to escape in order that be may be traced to his confederates. Only this case is somewhat different, of course. We don't know exactly who the criminals we, but we expect them to reveal their identity by their own acts."

"Then we'd better be on double guard?"

"Of course. You know how the consul reiterated the warning he gave us. He couldn't tell us that it was the notion of the Secret Service department that we would be attacked on the way to Peking, but he could tell us to look out, and he did."

"Perhaps he thought the truth would frighten you off?"

"Perhaps," laughed Ned.

"Well, I'm glad to have the puzzle solved," Captain Martin said. "Now we know just what to look out for. When do you expect to meet with these foxy chaps?"

"They will appear in due time, if I am right," Ned replied. "Look out there on the road," he added, "they may be coming now."

The Captain looked and saw four men in the garb of priests, approaching the grove. Their robes were long and of a dirty slate color, and there was a great star on the breast of the man in the lead.

"A queer bunch," the officer said, "but not diplomats. They are Taoist priests, and the chances are that they have a tumble-down temple in this vicinity. They are not very popular in China just now."

"Never heard of them," Ned said, watching the men turn from the road into the grove.

"As you know," the officer explained; "I have been on Chinese stations a long time. Well, I've taken a fancy to study up the religion of the people. Or, to put it right, the three religions. First, there is the Confucian religion, which is not really a religion, for it does not deal with the spiritual. It is a philosophy, which teaches the brotherhood of man.

"Second, there is Buddhism, with its ruined temples and begging monks. This religion is an importation from India. Aged people and women are its chief devotees.

"Third, there is Taoism, scarcely less popular that Buddhism. The priests live with their families in ruined temples and practice all sorts of fool things. They have a mystic alchemy, prepare spells and incantations, and claim to hold communion with the dead. It is said that worthless foreigners travel about in the disguise of Taoist priests, just for the money there is in it, as fake spiritualist mediums travel about in our own country.

"The people coming are Taoist priests, all right, for they have the drums, and gongs, and fifes of their trade with them. Their ruined temple may not be far away. If we have time we may witness some of their foolish ceremonies."

Ned's face looked thoughtful for a moment, then cleared. There was a smile on his face as he asked:

"Do Taoist priests accost strangers on the highway?"

"Yes; when there is a show of getting money. They are a rank lot, as you will soon see."

"These may not be so rank," Ned replied, meaningfully.

"'Why," began Captain Martin, "you don't suppose—"

"It seems odd that Taoist priests should arrive here just at this time."

"If these chaps really I are spies—the spies we have been warned against—the fellows we were sent forth to meet, why, there may be a bit of action here."

"Well," Ned went on, "let them take the initiative. We shall soon be able to give a good guess as to what this visit means."

As the four strangely clad figures moved across the little patch of field which separated the highway from the grove, Jimmie came running over to where the two were sitting, an egg sandwich in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. As he ran the hot liquid jolted out of the cup and came in contact with his hand.

"Gee!" he shouted. "Just look what's comin'."

Then he dropped the hot cup on the ground and began to dance up and down, shaking his blistered hand as he did so.

"I got it!" he said. "There was only one hot cup in the lot, an' I got it! Say, Ned, what do you know about them callers you're goin' to have? Look like busted washee-washee geeks from Pell street. Look at 'em!"

By this time the marines were watching the advancing priests with curious eyes. Breakfast was nearly over, and some of the men were preparing for a brief rest in the shady spot they had found.

The priests, if such they were, entered the grove, passed through the group of men without a glance to the right or left, and approached the spot where Ned and the Captain sat. Here they drew up in a line, much as the fakirs of the East Indies perform, with their crude drams, gongs and fifes in full view.

"Hello, Sports!" Jimmie cried.

Ned motioned to the boy to remain silent.

The Captain addressed the priests in a couple of Chinese sentences, but received no immediate answer. One of the fellows, the one with a great star painted, or worked, on the breast of his gown, soon advanced and stood directly in front of Ned.

"We have had warning of your approach," he said. "We have been waiting for you for many days."

Ned started, for the words were spoken in English. The Captain muttered under his breath:

"I haven't a doubt of it."

"What do you want?" asked Ned.

The four bowed to the ground.

"Attention. The mysticism of the East is open to you if you are brave and strong."

"Bunk!" whispered Jimmie.

"Where do you live?" asked the Captain.

The leader pointed to a pile of broken stones at the edge of the grove. A closer inspection of the heap told the officer that it was what time had left of a temple.

"Tell him to get busy," whispered Jimmie. "Can he make a tree three hundred years old in a minute?"

"Where is this mysticism of the East located?" asked the Captain, unable to get the original notion that they were not what they seemed out of his mind.

Again the leader pointed to the ruined temple.

"Come!" he said.

"Now is your chance!" whispered the Captain.

"You are convinced that these are the people who were sent out to defeat the purpose of our mission?" asked Ned.

"Sure," was the reply. "These fellows are not priests. I don't believe the chap who speaks is even a Chinaman."

Ned did not hesitate long. If he was correct in his interpretation of the orders of the Secret Service department, it would be the right thing for him to go with the strange visitors.

If, as he really believed, they had designs on his life or his liberty, no better place or time for the test of cunning and strength could have been selected. It was early morning, and the highway just beyond the grove was never long vacant of travelers. Indeed, groups of five or six were constantly in sight.

The travelers were Chinese, of course, and not likely to assist him out of any difficulty into which he might tumble, still the fact that they were there was something. Even conspirators do not seek audiences for their crimes.

Besides, there were the marines. Ned understood that they would not be permitted to enter the ruined temple in a body, but he knew that they would be within call.

"What's your notion?" Ned whispered to the Captain.

"Go, and take me with you."

"Of course you'll go if I do."

"And what's the matter with me goin'?" demanded Jimmie, who was near enough to catch the impression that Ned was going somewhere and was intending to leave him behind.

"Perhaps the hosts won't welcome three," suggested Ned, in a whisper. "Such people, like those who present communications from dead friends, at a dollar per, like to work in private."

Jimmie did not wait to argue the question with Ned. As usual, his answer was direct and to the point. He advanced upon the priests and demanded:

"Will you take me along?"

The four regarded each other in perplexity.

"Come, now," urged the boy, "be good sports. Be good fellers, for once!"

It was finally arranged that Ned, Jimmie and the Captain were to proceed to the ruined temple with the four and there learn something of the mysticism of the East! Ned was positive that the time for his test of courage had come. Still, he did not waver, for he was prepared. The marines were instructed to gradually encircle the old temple, and to listen for orders from the inside.

While satisfied that he had now come to the turning point in the case, Ned wondered, while on the way to the temple, if he ought to take the risk, whether it might not be wiser to arrest the fakirs, strip them of their disguises, and take them, by force of numbers, to the embassy at Peking. Still, if he took that course, he would have no proof against them—would not be able to connect the fellows with the conspiracy.

The only thing to do was to take the risk.

So, with a premonition of danger in his heart, he turned down the steps which led to the temple.

For the temple was, as has been said, in ruins. There was a heap of hewn stones on top of the earth, and that was all that showed from above. In front a stone staircase led down into a damp and evil-smelling place.

After a minute's descent Ned found himself in a long, narrow hall, which had at some time in the distant past formed the lobby of the temple.

There was a cold wind blowing from somewhere in advance, and bats flew croakingly against it in their retreat from the intruders. Ned heard the clang of a heavy door behind him. Then the current of air was shut off.

"This old barn of a place hasn't been used for a hundred years!" Jimmie whispered, clutching Ned by the arm.

"What makes you think so?" asked Ned.

"If in use, there would be something here to show it," was the reply. "See, they haven't even got lights here. The ones they are now carrying were taken from the folds of their robes. And there would be no bats if the place was in constant use."

"Right you are, boy," Ned whispered back. "But we knew what we were getting into. Hark!"

It was the dull, rolling sound of a drum that caused the exclamation. One of the men, far in advance, was evidently giving a signal. In a moment the shrill notes of a fife reached the ears of the boys.

They waited for a moment, wondering, and then a burst of light came from some unseen quarter and the four men were seen standing in line on a rock which lifted above the sloping floor.

"Now for the ghosts!" whispered Jimmie. "Who's first?"



CHAPTER XII

NIGHT IN AN ANCIENT CITY

Frank Shaw and Jack Bosworth, suddenly awakened from a sound sleep in the little mud shack in the cornfield, in the suburbs of Tientsin, were not a little astonished at finding themselves rolled deftly out of the blankets in which they had wrapped themselves before lying down.

"What's coming off here?" demanded Frank, rubbing his eyes and gazing blankly about the hovel. "What kind of a hotel is this?"

"What did you do that for?" asked Jack, edging newer to Frank. "Why this midnight industry? What did you pull me out of me covers for?"

"I didn't!" cried Frank. "You pulled me out!"

"Not me!" Jack answered. "I was catching German carp, in the upper lagoon in Central Park, N.Y., just a second ago. Sorry I woke up before I got a mess!"

"Who did it, then?" asked Frank. "Some one gave me a thump in the wind and then rolled me out of the drapery of me elegant couch."

"Search me!" Jack replied. "I got something like that, also. I'll bet it's the blooming marines, playing an alleged joke! I'm going out to heave a rock at them."

"Wait!" whispered a voice. "Don't make so much noise, either. You're pinched!"

"That's Bowery!" cried Jack.

"Come on and show yourself!" Frank commanded. "What are you hiding back there in the darkness for? Who are you, and where did you come from? What did you wake me up for, anyway?"

"Black Cat Patrol, Chicago!" was the reply that came through the darkness. "You're both Black Bears, New York," the voice went on. "I saw the badges on your vests."

Both boys sprang to their feet instantly. This was something worth while. A Boy Scout in China!

"Got a light?" asked Frank. "I'll just like to see whether you're a Black Cat or not."

"Nix on the light," was the reply.

"That's South Clark street, below Van Buren," laughed Jack.

"All right," Frank said, in answer to the boy's negative, "I've got a flashlight."

"Then keep it out of sight," advised the other. "I don't want to stir up these soldiers. Perhaps they won't let you go with me."

"Oh, they won't?" Jack grumbled. "We'll see! Turn on your light, Frank, old top!"

Frank, "old top." turned on his light, and the two saw a boy of apparently fifteen standing immediately in front of them. He was slender but muscular, and his red hair and blue eyes betokened anything but Asiatic ancestors.

The lad extended his right hand in full salute and waited.

"Correct!" Jack said. "Turn out your light, Frank. Sit down, kid, and tell us why this surprise party."

"I came down to tell you that there's doin's up town," was the quick reply. "You'd better get a move on!"

"We're ready," Frank said, then, "but we'd like to know what we're going to move against."

"Your friends are in trouble. That's the answer."

"How do you know?"

"I have just left them at the telegraph office."

"That's where they went."

"Well, that's where they're gettin' theirs," declared the lad. "So buck up!"

"Who—what—"

"Aw, come along!" the boy cut in. "They're goin' to be arrested, an' they won't get their cablegram, an' there'll be worse if you don't wake up. See?"

"You'll have to explain to us," Frank observed.

"You go tell that to the marines!" Jack exclaimed. "They're right outside there."

"All right!" the lad answered. "I'm goin' back. You can all go to Halifax for all me."

"Wait," said Frank. "Where did you get this information you're favoring us with? What's your name? How did you get to China?"

"I'm a delivery boy at the telegraph office," the lad answered. "I loafed around there tonight to see you folks, for I knew that the cablegram would be called for. Before showing myself, I heard what was going on an' ducked. Now, come on."

"What's your name?"

"Sandy McNamara."

"How did you get to China?"

"Hid in a ship an' got caught an' beat up."

"A stowaway, eh?"

"You bet! I'd do it again to get back to South Clark street, in little old Chi."

"What they doing to Ned and Jimmie?" asked Jack.

"Oh, come along!" Frank exclaimed. "The boys may be in need of good advice and exclusive society! We'll go and see."

"Well," Sandy put in, "this ain't no case for the bulls. You've got to get to them without makin' any show of fight. You'd be eat up in this town with them few soldiers."

"What do you propose?"

"Why, we'll go to the American consul an' get him out."

"You seem to be almost human in your intelligence," Jack cried. "Let go your anchor and heave ahead!"

"We'll have to make good time," said Sandy. "Can you run?"

"We're the original record-breakers when it comes to working our legs!" Jack said, and the three, after moving quietly through the lighted circle, so as not to attract the attention of the guard, broke into a run which fast lessened the distance between the camp and the telegraph office. At the end of half a mile Sandy drew up against a mud wall. The rain was still falling, and the boys were soaked to the skin and shivering with cold, notwithstanding their exertions.

"I'm winded," Sandy explained, panting.

"I'm frozen stiff," Jack declared.

"I'm wet enough to swim home," Frank put in.

"Well," Sandy continued, "there's a little shack behind us—looks like one of the squatter shacks on the Lake front—an' we can go in an' rest up. Here's where the only friend I have in China lives."

"Go on in, then," Jack replied, his teeth chattering with the cold.

"We ought to keep on," Frank advised. "This is no time to rest and get dry when Ned is in trouble!"

"That's right," from Jack. "Trot ahead, little one!"

"I've got to go in here, anyway, an' get my uniform," the boy explained. "I'll be more protection to you boys if I have it on."

"Protection to us!" laughed Jack. "You're a joker!"

"Hurry up, then, and get it," Frank urged. "We've got to be getting along toward the telegraph office."

"Ain't you comin' in?" asked Sandy.

"No; we'll want to remain if we go in. Hurry."

"Do you think he's on the level?" asked Jack, as the boy disappeared through the low doorway.

"I don't know," was the reply. "It doesn't seem as if an American lad, and a Boy Scout at that, would play a treacherous game against his own countrymen."

"No, it doesn't; yet what is he stopping here for? He ought to be as anxious as we are to get over the ground."

Then Sandy came stumbling to the door, on the inside, and asked the boys, through the rough boards, to come in with their lights.

"There's somethin' mighty strange here," he said.

"This may be a trap!" Jack said. "Shall we go in?"

"We may need this boy as a guide," Frank observed.

"All right, then. In we go."

There was only one room to the shack, which was of mud, with thick walls and a leaky roof. There was a table, a chair, a heap of clothes in a comer, and nothing else, save for a puddle of water on the floor.

Sandy stood in the middle of the floor, his feet in the puddle, when Frank's searchlight illumined the bare room. His eyes were staring in a strange way and his face was deadly pale.

"Look there!" he exclaimed, his lips forming the words badly. "The old woman who fed me when I was broke an' sick lies under the clothes, stupid from some dope. The house has been poked over. I saw a face at the little hole in the wall as I came in. What does it mean?"

Whisperings were heard at the door. Frank extinguished his light and the boys stood in darkness as complete as ever fell since the dawn of creation.

"What do you think?" asked Jack, of Frank.

"Looks like a trap."

Sandy sprang forward and seized Frank by the arm, and his voice shook as he began.

"No! It ain't no trap! I didn't bring you here to get rolled for your wads, or anythin' like that. I stopped here to get me telegraph messenger uniform. I can go anywhere in the city with that on, and not be molested. I don't know what this means, but there are Chinks all around this house."

"Perhaps you've been followed ever since you left the office," Frank suggested. "Where is your uniform?"

"Gone," replied Sandy, "an' everythin' else I had in that old box in the corner."

Frank walked to the door and opened it a trifle. There was no need to open it wider to see what kind of trouble they were in. In front, patient in the downpour, stood six Chinamen.

The flashlight dwelt on the silent row for an instant and was then turned off. Frank closed the door and stood with his back against it.

"Is there another way out?" he asked.

Sandy pointed to a small door at the rear. Frank opened it a trifle, as he had the other, and again the flashlight bored a round hole in the night. There were six Chinamen there.

"They mean to keep us here!" Jack cried. "I'll show them."

"I hear them all around the place," Sandy almost sobbed. "You'll think I brought you here for this. I didn't! I'm on the square with you boys. I wanted to help you."

"Perhaps they'll go away soon," Jack suggested.

"Never!" Frank replied. "This is purely an Oriental shut-in! They will wait out there until the hot summer tans their hides if they are told to. The patience of the Orient is something awful to run up against."

"But why?" asked Jack.

"Oh, they got next to me!" Sandy observed.

"They want to keep you from goin' to the assistance of your friends. They'll let you go after they've found some mysterious way of disposing of the others. If I could get out, I'd go to the camp."

"Dig around! There may be some way of getting out. These slant-eyed peoples are slant-eyed in their ways. There may be a hole under the hut that leads somewhere."

"I've seen the woman go down cellar," said Sandy.

"Then you go down cellar," advised Frank, "and see if there is no way out from there. I'm bound to get to Ned and Jimmie if I have to begin operations with my gun."

Presently Sandy's voice was heard from below. He said that he felt a current of air, as if there were a passage leading outside.

"Come on down an' see," he said.

The boys went down a steep ladder, after fastening both doors on the inside, and soon found themselves on the cellar bottom. Frank turned on his flashlight and looked about. There was a hole in one of the walls which seemed to lead downward, in the direction of the river.

"I'm going to try it," Jack exclaimed, taking out his light. "When I say for you to come on, come a-running."

He said for them to come on in a moment, and Sandy and Frank soon found themselves in a square subterranean room which must have been cut near the surface and just outside the wall of the hut. It was a comfortless place, and they lost no time in looking for a way out.

"Here it is!" Sandy called out, directly. "Here is a tunnel. Say, but I never knew about this before. Come on!"

Frank led, but proceeded only a short distance. Then his light rested on the grinning face of a Chinaman.

The tunnel was guarded. The boy turned back and looked into the tunnel by which they had entered the chamber. Within a foot of the muzzle of his searchlight he saw the grinning face of another Chinaman.

He stepped back to the mouth of the tunnel and motioned Jack to guard the exit, explaining, briefly, that they had been trapped, not in a hut on the street level, but in a subterranean chamber where they could not be heard, and where no one would ever think of looking for them.

"Oh, no," Jack cried, regarding Sandy angrily, "you didn't know anything about this—not a thing! You treacherous dog!"

"I didn't! I didn't!" shouted the boy. "Call them men in an' ask them if I did."

"You wait a minute," Jack gritted out, "and I'll see if the Chinks will stand quiet while I beat their accomplice up!"

"Quit it!" Frank commanded. "We're in trouble enough now, without bringing the Chinks down on us. I'd give a good deal to know if Ned and Jimmie are still alive!"



CHAPTER XIII

A VANISHING DIPLOMAT

Ned turned to the Captain as the men in slate-colored robes lifted their hands after the manner of fake mystics the world over. He was not uninterested, but he was anxious.

They were now some distance from the grove in which the camp breakfast had been prepared, and the grove, in turn, was some distance from the highway. They were also some feet under ground, where any calls for assistance that might be necessary would be muffled by the hewn stone and the damp air and earth.

Besides, the alleged priests had mapped out this scene before the arrival of the boys, as Ned believed. Therefore they might have half a hundred natives within call, prepared to do murder if necessary.

The marines had been ordered by the Captain to gradually surround the temple, to guard every entrance that could be discovered, and to force their way in if anything of a suspicious nature occurred. Ned did not know the men as well as he knew the Captain, therefore he asked:

"The men will obey your orders to the letter? You see, we are in a box here!"

"They will obey," said the officer. "What do you make of the mummery now going on?"

The "mummery" consisted in slow, gliding motions, in whirlings about intended to be graceful, in slow liftings of the hands upward, and in the beating of the drums.

"I don't make anything of it," Ned replied. "I take it they are waiting for time. Perhaps they got us in here with less trouble than they had figured on, and are waiting for confederates."

"What a land!" mused the Captain. "What a way to seek the destruction of any enemy! An Italian would have stabbed us in the back on the way in here, a Frenchman would have set a band of bullies upon us in the grove, an American would have walked up and made observations with his bare fists!"

"This is Oriental!" smiled Ned. "I wish we were well out of this hole in the ground!"

"I see," began the man with the star on the breast of his dirty gown, "that you are in trouble of mind concerning the loss of two companions."

"Correct!" shouted the irrepressible Jimmie. "Come across with them— right soon, old hoss!"

"I see," continued the other, not noticing the interruption, "that you are here in a weighty matter—a matter affecting the peace of nations."

Jimmie was primed for another outbreak of conversation, but Ned caught him by the arm and ordered him to remain silent.

"I see," the alleged seer went on, "that you have met with difficulties and perils on the way. Is this true?"

"All true," Ned answered.

"Then approach. Enter the holy room and receive instruction which shall be of benefit."

Ned hesitated a moment.

"And my friends?" he asked.

"The spirit speaks to but one," was the reply.

"What a lot of rot!" whispered Jimmie. "You go on, an' I'll be there in a second if there is anything like rough house."

With a warning look in the Captain's direction, the boy advanced to the platform of rock. From there he was directed to a door cut in what, seemed to be soft earth and framed with timbers. The timbers were new. He saw that at a glance, and drew his own conclusions.

Ned was glad to see that the man who had done all the speaking was the only one to accompany him into the side room. In a contest of muscles, he thought he could hold his own pretty well with this fellow.

Ned was prepared for almost anything, but what took place next filled him with astonishment. The room was just a hole out in the earth. It did not appear to have been a part of the old temple. There were in it a board table, roughly put together, two chairs, and a square box, perhaps five feet in length by one and a half in the other proportions.

As soon as the door was closed the alleged priest threw aside his slate-colored robe, snatched a wig and beard from his head and face, and stood forth a handsome man, dressed in the costume of a modern Englishman or American. At first Ned did not recognize the smiling face which confronted him.

Then there came to his mind the memory of a time in Canton when he had watched a meeting of men he believed to be in conspiracy against his country. This face certainly had been there.

The voice was low, smooth, musical. Ned stood looking at the subtle countenance, but said not a word.

"You are caught at last!" came next.

Still Ned stood silent, saying not a word, only wondering if the time for final action had arrived—if the Captain outside was in such peril as threatened himself.

"Rather a bright boy," sneered the other, "only not bright enough to understand that men of the world are not to be defeated in their long-cherished plans by the kindergarten class. Do you know where your two friends are—the two who accompanied you here?"

"I presume that they are quite capable of taking care of themselves," Ned replied.

"They are on the road to a dungeon in Peking."

"From first to last," Ned said, "from my first connection with this case up to this hour, I have come upon only bluffers and liars. You seem to be making good in both lines."

"Not so rude, kid," laughed the other. "You've certainly got nerve to address such words to one who holds your life, and the lives of your friends, in his hand."

"If you do," Ned said, "if you really have the power of life and death you claim to have, there is no hope for any of us."

"Figure it out in your own way," said the other, "but, so far as the power of life and death is concerned, you hold the lives of your friends in your own hands."

"I understand what you mean," the boy replied, "but I'm not for sale. Go ahead with your procession! Death looks pretty good to me, as compared with the disgrace of asking a favor from one of your stripe."

Ned's words, purposely designed to enrage the fellow, struck fire at last, and he said what he never would have said in calmer moments.

"I'll show you that death is not so pleasant a thing as you seem to imagine!" he almost shouted. "I'll show you how to learn the lesson of supplication! When the future of a nation is at stake, human lives do not count. What are the lives of a dozen or more to the prosperity of millions? You have information which is needed, in the interest of humanity, and even torture shall be resorted to if it can be obtained in no other way."

"And so," Ned replied, calmly, "you are not merely a tool. As I supposed, you are one of the men at the head of the conspiracy. You are the man I came upon at Canton. You are the wretch who is trying to involve two continents in war. Well, I hope to meet you under less trying circumstances!"

The other laughed harshly and walked to the door. Listening with his ear against the rough boards for an instant, he opened it a trifle and glanced out. Ned heard sounds of a struggle there, and was about to spring forward when his captor faced him with a provoking smile.

"By the way," he said, "I neglected to inform you that one threatening movement will mean instant death to you. I am opposed to any bully-like display of weapons, preferring to discuss this question with you without coercion, but I took the precaution to place a rifleman at an opening in one of the walls of this room. He has you 'covered,' as the saying is, and so it is advisable for you to remain passive."

"What is going on out there?" demanded Ned.

"Your people seem to be protesting against leaving the place under escort," laughed the other. "The two you left at the camp in the cornfield were not so hard to control."

"You seem to have a good knowledge of a our movements," said Ned. "You have a spy system well in hand here."

"That is refreshing, as coming from the mouth of a spy," retorted the other. "If you are ready to talk business," he added, closing the door, "I am ready to make a proposition."

"If your time and your breath are worth anything," the boy replied, "you may as well save both."

"You have possession of certain documents taken from a certain wreck in the Pacific Ocean?"

Ned made no reply.

"You possess certain information concerning an alleged plot."

Still no response from the boy.

"Without you, your government can make no headway in the investigation now on foot."

Ned dropped into a chair and turned his face away with a well assumed air of indifference. Really, he was anxious for the man to go on, to say just how important were the papers and the information.

"We have it in our power to prevent the information you possess ever reaching your government, but the documents you have we cannot get in the usual way. Therefore we are offering you terms."

"Naturally," Ned smiled.

"Promise to restore the papers and forever remain silent as to what you have learned since you undertook this case, and you shall all go free, with more money than you ever dreamed of having in your hands."

"You have not stated the case fully," Ned said, when the other concluded, with a superior air. "You have not mentioned a certain alleged diplomat. You want me to forget all that he has said and done in the matter."

"Naturally. I said that you were to forget everything connected with the case."

"I prefer," Ned replied, "to see you on the gallows for murder."

The other started violently.

"Then this is final?"

There came a sound resembling the report of firearms from the outer room. At the same time Ned caught a movement behind the south wall of the room. The gunman mentioned by the diplomat was evidently leaving his post for the purpose of joining in any struggle which might be taking place.

The boy thought fast for a moment. If the marines had fought their way into the outer room they would soon be knocking at the rough door that separated the two apartments. In that case the man before him would do one of two things.

He would try to fight his way out of the room, or he would try to escape by some exit not at that time in sight. In the first instance he might wound or kill one or more of the marines. In the latter, he might be able to conceal himself in some underground passage and finally escape.

It seemed to Ned that the one thing for him to do was to attack the fellow and endeavor to disarm him. The noises of conflict in the outer room grew more distinct, and Ned, observing that the diplomat was glancing restlessly about, as if seeking some means of escape, sprang upon him.

Instead of turning and defending himself, the fellow struggled to release himself from the boy's hold, and to make his way toward a section of the wall on the south. The statement that a rifleman had been stationed somewhere there now came back to the boy's mind, and he knew that there must be a passage behind that wall.

The man with whom Ned was struggling was evidently unarmed, for he fought only with his hands and feet. He tried by all the tricks known to wrestlers to break away from the boy, or to hurl him to the floor, but Ned had skill as well as strength, and all such efforts proved unavailing.

While this silent struggle was going on, the rough door came crashing in and a score of Chinamen, evidently fleeing from an enemy, rushed in and flocked toward that south wall. Ned and his enemy were trampled under foot for a moment, then the room was clear save for a half dozen marines who stood in the doorway, their smoking guns in their hands.

Ned's head whirled from a blow he had received, and there was a numb feeling in one of his arms, but he arose to his feet and glanced around. Jimmie stood with the marines, a grin on his freckled face.

"Gee whiz!" he shouted, "how that man did go!"

"Which man?" demanded Ned. "Why didn't some one follow him?"

"He just went through that wall," Jimmie answered. "When I tried to follow him I bumped me nose! Say, but he went right through that old wall!"

"Where did the Chinks go?" asked Ned.

"Down through the floor!" was the reply. "But, say, did you ever see anythin' like that vanishin' priest? I'll bet a pie he's forty miles away right this minute."

When Ned and the marines took up the search for the diplomat and the Chinese, it did seem that they were forty miles away! There were numerous passages under the old temple, and in these the fugitives must have hidden.

"How did you know?" asked Ned of the marines who had broken into the underground rooms. "How did you know there was danger inside?"

"That little imp of a Jimmie," one of the men said, "came to the entrance and shouted fit to wake the dead. They were trying to carry the Captain and the kid away. Bright boy, that!"

Two of the marines had been slightly wounded by knives in the hands of the Chinese, but they declared themselves quite well enough to go on with the journey.

"The Chinks didn't fight," one of them said. "They just threw knives and ran! We never hit one of them! Sheep, that's what they are! Just sheep!"

"Well," Ned said, "we've lost our chance on the road to Peking, the fellow we want having escaped, so we must go ahead and set the rat trap once more."

"You'll walk if you do," one of the marines said, showing from the outside, "for the Chinks have made off with the motorcycles!"



CHAPTER XIV

SANDY PROVES HIS CASE

"They'll be dead if you don't get out of here an' do somethin'!" said Sandy. "The Chinks'll eat 'em up!"

Frank looked around the dismal subterranean chamber and a cynical smile came to his lips.

"We might get out of here," he said, "if we had a ton of dynamite. I don't know but I'd take a chance on getting injured myself in order to see these Chinks sailing into the sky."

Jack, still suspicious of Sandy, turned toward him with a frown. The lad met the other's eyes steadily.

"Do you know the way out of this?" Jack asked.

"No," admitted the boy. "Never was in here before. Never knew there was such a place."

"Well," Jack went on, "the longer we remain here the longer we'll be in finding our chums. I'm going to make a break."

"If you have a gun," Sandy said, calmly, "I'll go ahead with it. If I get plugged, or anythin' like that, you boys may be able to get away. These Chinks are quick to run if there is danger ahead, and I think I can scare them off. Give me the gun!"

Sandy reached out his hand, but Frank did not extend the gun he had taken from his pocket.

"You're nervy, all right," he said, "but you don't have to take all the risk. Suppose we wait until daylight and then make a rush?"

"Why daylight?" asked Jack.

"There may then be some friendly face in sight, if we are able to get to the street."

"There's force in that," Jack replied, "but this is no palace car to wait in."

"You let me go and try," Sandy urged.

Frank shook his head gravely.

"No use," he said. "There are probably a score or more of Chinks around this old shack. We've got to wait until morning before we try to get away. The only question in my mind is this: Will they let us alone until daylight? If they don't, then it will be a scrap."

The boys sat down against the earth wall of the chamber and waited. Now and then they could hear whispers in a tongue they could not understand. Occasionally they heard a wagon creaking along the distant street. Then they knew that the doors connecting the mud hut with the outer world were open.

"I wonder if old Chee is still asleep from the dope?" Sandy asked, after a long time had passed.

"Why did they dope her?" asked Jack. "I don't see any nourishment for them in that."

"Guess they thought I'd be apt to help you boys," Sandy replied, "and made up their minds to catch me and chuck me away somewhere. Chee's a nervy old lady, an' probably scrapped when they searched for me. I'd like to help her."

"Why do you call her Chee?"

"Because she's so cheerful, an' because I don't know her name," was the reply.

"It must be pretty near dawn," Jack said, after a long silence, with a prodigious yawn.

Frank looked at his watch and found that it was six o'clock. It had been a long night. The sun would rise shortly after six.

Five minutes later sounds of trouble of a physical nature were heard along the tunnel by which the chamber had been reached. There were blows, grunts, and ejaculations of rage. Then they heard a voice they knew:

"Donner! I make your face preak! Come py mine punch of fives. Oh, you loaver!"

"Hans!" cried Jack. "How the Old Harry did he get here?"

"He'll soon be able to tell you himself," Frank said, "if he keeps on coming."

Indeed, the German's voice came nearer every instant, nearer and more emphatic. He was panting, too, and the sound of blows reached the ears of the listening boys.

"Get in there!"

The words were spoken in English, but not by Hans.

"There's that gink who rounded us up back in Taku," exclaimed Jack. "He seems to be winning all the tricks. I wonder how he got hold of Hans?"

"I thought Dutchy was back with the submarine," Frank replied. "How he got to Tientsin is a mystery to me."

The next moment Hans' broad face, now red from anger and exertion, appeared at the mouth of the tunnel, looking like a full moon, and then his bulky figure was projected violently into the chamber. He scrambled in on his knees, but arose instantly and swung his fists in the direction of the tunnel, shouting imprecations on some out-of-sight person.

There were numerous cuts and bruises on his face from which blood was oozing, and his clothing was torn and dirty, as if it had been dragged through the mud.

"Loaver! Loaver!" he shouted, still shaking his clenched fist at the entrance. "Vait a liddle, yet! I eats dern alife!"

"I wish you would!" cried Jack.

"Give me a bite while you are at it," Sandy cut in.

Hans gazed around in bewilderment for a time, and then his face brightened as he caught sight of Frank and Jack. It did not take the lads long to arrive at a mutual understanding of the happenings of the night.

Hans had been followed from the place where he had left the other boys and captured. He did not know what had become of Ned and the others any more than Frank and Jack did.

His story brought some relief to the others, for it was presumable that their chums were now well on their way to Peking. Once there, the imprisoned lads knew that every effort for their release would be made— then the whole power of the United States government, through the ambassador, would be exerted in their behalf.

"But what's the use of all that," Jack asked, grumblingly—for he was getting hungry! "What's the use of all that if the Chinks sit out there like blooming cigar-store images and never give a hint as to where we are? We are likely to starve before the American ambassador can act with success."

Hans rubbed his stomach protectingly.

"Empty!" he said. "I could eats a Schinks!"

"Eat one for me," advised Jack.

Sandy, who had been listening in silence to the explanations which had been made, now asked:

"How many Chinks are there out there?"

"Army!" answered Hans.

This was discouraging, for, as has already been stated, the boys were meditating a rush as soon as the city was astir. They did not anticipate much help from bystanders, even if they should gain the street, but they knew that such a ruction as they would be able to put up would attract the attention of the authorities, and so bring the matter before the courts.

While they talked the chances over, another breeze of trouble blew in from the entrance tunnel. An argument of some kind was in progress between the men stationed there.

Sandy moved forward to the mouth of the dark hole and listened. The argument was being carried on in the language of the country, but now and then a few words in English were heard.

"I tell you they got away, slick and clean!" the Englishman said, as Sandy listened.

A mumbling of native talk, and then another sentence:

"And some one will be here directly."

Jack, who had heard the words, turned to Frank with a grin.

"Is that a promise or a threat?" he asked.

"I think our friends are coming," Frank replied.

"They can never find us in this hole," Jack complained. "Suppose we make a little noise?"

"If they are headed this way, they know where we are," Frank said, "and it seems as if we ought to wait for them.".

"I'll starve!" muttered Jack. "I could eat a fried telegraph pole, and like it!"

"I eat since yesterday only plue sky!" Hans contributed. "My pelly makes argument mit my konscience! But?"

Sandy sat dejectedly by the wall and said nothing. He knew that he was still suspected of leading the boys into the trap in which they now found themselves, and was studying over plans to assist them out and at the same time establish his innocence.

It seemed to the lads that a whole day passed without a single thing to break the monotony, but Frank's watch insisted that it was only eleven o'clock. It was dark most of the time in the chamber, for the boys were saving of their flashlight batteries.

Finally one of the plans which had been slowly maturing in Sandy's brain brought the lad into action. Noiselessly he crept away from the little group and moved on his hands and knees, along the tunnel leading to the cellar of the old mud house.

He reasoned that that point would not be so closely guarded as the exit would be; also that Ned and his companions, if they returned to the city in quest of the boys and sought the mud house, would be more apt to be watching the house itself than the exit, which was some distance away from the road.

After proceeding a few feet, Sandy stopped and listened. There were no indications of human presence in the tunnel ahead, or in the cellar, which was not far away now, and from which a faint light shone.

When the boy reached the entrance to the cellar he saw three Chinamen lying on the earth floor, either asleep or under the influence of opium. It did not take the lad long to make up his mind as to which one of the causes, sleep or opium, had put his guards off their guard.

There was a strong odor of opium in the cellar, and a closer examination of the place showed him that the watchmen had been "hitting the pipe," as the boys on South Clark street, Chicago, would have expressed it. However, the way did not seem to be clear, for there were soft footsteps on the patch of board floor which covered a part of the cellar, and then a Chinaman backed down the ladder.

He came down slowly and stood for an instant on the cellar floor before looking around. When at last he saw the men asleep on the floor he muttered some jargon which Sandy could not understand and turned back to the ladder again.

Sandy believed that the man he saw was the only one the "pipe" had left on guard. If he could prevent him reaching the street, he might be able to get the other boys out of the trap in which they had been caught.

The Chinaman seemed large and strong, but Sandy would have taken even greater chances in order to convince the boys that he was not their enemy, so he sprang upon him. The struggle was a desperate one for a time, for Sandy was not very strong as compared with his opponent, and the man he was fighting with fought viciously.

Sandy did not dare cry out to the boys in the chamber for help, for that might bring other enemies into the fight. The only way seemed to be to conquer the Chinaman and then get the boys into the street as silently as possible. Once there, they would have little difficulty in making their way out of the city.

It is quite probable that Sandy would have come off second best in the encounter if Jack had not heard the racket the two made and came into the cellar with a bound. The two boys soon had the Chinaman down and well tied up.

"You're a brick, Sandy," Jack said, as the boys faced each other in the dim light. "While we sat in there waiting for some one to get us out, you got a move on and did something! Say," he added, with a grin, "ain't this tie-up game getting stale? Suppose we knock this fellow on the head? He may get away if we don't. And these others? Think they are sufficiently soused with opium?"

"They won't make any trouble for a long time," Sandy answered. "It is a wonder they got into such a trance! There must have been something stronger than opium in their pipes."

"Didn't know there was anything meaner than opium," Jack said.

"There is a drug that is used by old soaks after the poppy stuff gets too mild for them," replied Sandy. "Perhaps these men got some of that. Keep quiet, boys!"

This last as Frank and Hans came through the tunnel and stood staring at the men on the floor and their chums.

"Who did it?" asked Frank.

"Sandy did it!" answered Jack. "Ain't he the broth of a lad? Sure he's the goods."

"Perhaps we'd better be getting out," Sandy observed. "I hear some one upstairs. They're comin' down here, too."



CHAPTER XV

WHY ESCAPE WAS SO EASY

As Sandy finished speaking two figures dropped down the ladder, not stopping to descend rung by rung. As they landed on the floor the boys sprang toward them, ready to make a battle for their liberty. Then came another surprise.

Instead of making hostile demonstrations, the two newcomers, Chinamen so far as appearances went, threw up their hands and dropped back against the wall. Then shouts of laughter echoed through the place.

Directly the newcomers seemed to forget to keep their hands up, for they gripped their waists with them and roared. There was something about the laughter, too, which was not at all like the Orient.

"Go it!" Jack exclaimed.

"Have your fun before we come to settlement with you," Frank threatened.

"Let me soak heem!" Hans pleaded.

Sandy stood by with wonder showing in his face.

"What kind of a play house is this?" he asked. And still the others laughed, bending over, now, and covering their faces with their hands. The change from tragedy to comedy had been so sudden that for a time the boys did nothing at all to solve the mystery of the sudden outbreak of laughter.

Then Frank stepped closer and peered down at the larger of the two figures. Then he turned his searchlight on the bowed head.

Then a smile came over his face and he reached out a hand and took the bobbing pigtail into his hand and gave it a quick jerk. The result was amazing.

The pigtail came away in his hand, and with it a bunch of coarse hair and an odor!

"Look here, kids!" Frank cried. "Look who's here!"

It was Ned, and the shaking figure by his side was that of Jimmie. In a moment both were out of their disguises and making an inspection of the tunnels and the underground chamber.

"You've got Herlock Sholmes beaten to a frazzle," said Jack, as Ned stooped over to examine the knocked-out Chinamen.

"How did you do it?" demanded Frank. "We thought you were on the road to Peking until we heard some of the Chinks talking, not long after daybreak, then we thought you might be in trouble."

"It was long after daybreak when we mixed with the bunch," Jimmie answered. "Anythin' you heard before eight o'clock was fright an' not fact."

Sandy was now presented and his share in the adventures of the night given proper recognition.

"I thought he was a sneak at first," Jack explained, "but he showed us the way out in the end."

"What did you go an' sit down there an' wait for?" asked Jimmie. "Why didn't you get a move on?"

"They did the very thing they should have done," Ned remarked. "If they had tried to fight their way out they might have been killed,' as there was, I am told, a strong guard here at daybreak."

"But how did you get here?" asked Frank.

"When we got out of the old temple," Ned replied, "we had no motorcycles to go on with, so we came back to hunt up more. There was little use in going on by any way other than the one mapped out for us.

"The scamp we almost captured had been kind enough to tell us that you boys were in trouble and perhaps that had something to do with our coming back."

"But how did you get here?"

"Easy," laughed Ned. "We knew that you boys had been captured, and it was easy to see who had had a hand in it. The people at the telegraph office would know more about the matter than any one else.

"So we went to the American consulate and got into these disguises. The consul says he never saw anything smoother, though he must be prejudiced in our favor, for he helped get up the disguises himself.

"Then we went to the vicinity of the telegraph office and waited. In a moment we saw that something unusual was going on. Directly a messenger started off in this direction and we followed him. I knew then, as well as I know it now, that you boys had been detained in the hope of keeping us all out of Peking, so I bought some strong opium on the way and doped the pipes of the guards after I mixed with them."

"How could you mix with them?" asked Jack. "You know about as much Chinese as a robin."

"Oh, they thought we were sullen brutes sent down from their headquarters, and took us into their confidence all right. We were just ready to explore the underground places when we heard the scrap below."

"And now what?" asked Frank.

"Now, we're goin' to Peking!" cried Jimmie.

"You said that before!" Jack taunted.

"Well, we didn't get tied up in a hole we couldn't get out of," retorted the little fellow.

"I guess you'd have been in the old temple until now if you hadn't traveled with an escort," Jack cut in.

The boys, laughing and "roasting" each other, passed up the ladder and to the half earthen, half-board floor of the mud hut. There they found the woman Chee moving about with a swollen face.

She tried to talk with Ned, but as neither could understand what the other said, little progress was made. However, she finally managed to make Ned understand that she wanted him to take the unconscious men out of the cellar, also the man who had been tied up by Jack and Sandy.

Ned finally made her understand that she could call the police half an hour after their departure. This seemed to satisfy her, and the piece of silver Ned presented was received with many gestures of gratitude.

"Won't the finding of them men there get her into trouble?" asked Sandy, as the lads walked away.

"I'll explain the matter to the American consul," answered Ned, "and ask him to inform the authorities. You see, these people who are making us all this trouble are about as afraid of the officers as they are of us. The government is keeping a sharp lookout for the revolutionary leaders, and some are captured every day."

"What do they do with them?" asked Jack.

"They are never heard of again."

"Murdered? Without trial?"

"That is the belief."

"Then why don't we ask this good, wise, benevolent, sane, and all the rest of it government to keep the revolutionary party off Uncle Sam?" asked Jack. "We represent Uncle Samuel, you know."

"Because," was the reply, "there are spies in every branch and department of the government. While the traitors who are serving the government while seeking its destruction may not be powerful enough to secure the release of such confederates as are caught, they are undoubtedly able to send out reports calculated to assist their party."

"And every move we made under the protection of the Chinese government would be noted and reported," mused Jack. "I see how it is! Guess the people at Washington knew what they were about when they issued instructions regarding the trip to Peking."

"Yes, I think they did," Ned replied. "Observe how they tested us. We did not know about the cablegram at the office here when we started on our long ride. If we had weakened in any way we never should have known about it, but would have been ordered back home."

"Land flowing with milk and honey, and breakfast foods, and choice beef cuts at a dollar a pound!" Jack exclaimed now. "Are we never going to get anything to eat?"

"I haf one vacancy!" observed Hans, laying a hand on his stomach. "I haf a misery!"

"You had a good breakfast, Jack!" reproved Frank.

"What! Where! What was it? Yes, I haf a breakfast two days ago. This morning I haf cellar air for breakfast. It isn't nourishing. Where is there an eatery?"

Before long Ned stopped at a little tea house where an American sign hung in a window, and the boys ordered such viands as the place afforded. It was not much of a meal, as Jack insisted, but just a teaser for a dinner which would be procured later on.

"Where are the marines?" asked Frank, as he and Ned seated themselves at a little table apart from the others.

"Encamped in the grove," was the reply.

"They will not be attacked there?" asked Frank, in some amazement.

"Certainly not. All Chinamen hate us, but we are safe except when the revolutionists take a hand in the game. The marines are probably surrounded by a crowd of sullen curiosity seekers, but they will not be molested unless the revolutionists decide to take another chance with them."

"And the machines are gone for good?"

"No, the American consul is getting them back, or was when I left his office, one by one. The men who were fighting were too frightened to take the machines with them, but the mob got them. They were taken by individual thieves, and will soon be restored."

"We ought to have come over in our aeroplane," smiled Frank.

"That would have defeated our purpose," Ned replied. "We are here to catch the leaders of this conspiracy, and the only way we can do it is to wait until they show themselves.

"Just see how foolish they are!" Ned went on. "If they had been content to wait, to manufacture such evidence as they needed to show their innocence, we could never have located them. They would have lied us out of countenance if we charged any one man with being the leader, or any one nation with fostering the conspiracy.

"But they tried to make a clean record for themselves by wiping us off the face of the earth and so showed themselves to us. I am told by police officers that if criminals would keep away from women, away from the scenes of their crimes, and keep their mouths shut when given the famous—and disgraceful—third degree, not one in twenty would ever be convicted."

"Well," Frank said, "here's hoping that the man we want will come within reach again!"

After breakfast the boys headed for the American consulate, where they found the machines which had been stolen.

"That was quick work," Ned congratulated. "How did you do it?"

The consul laughed.

"Why," he replied, "you might as well try to bide a fifty story building in China as one of those machines! The natives believe the devil is in them!"

"I've known Americans to express the same opinion," laughed Frank.

While they talked with the consul a message was brought him from the telegraph office. It read:

"Report progress."

Ned laughed.

"Nothing to report but disaster," he said.

"Well," the consul replied, "we expected something of the kind. You have gained the very point we expected you to gain. You know exactly who is at the head of this mess. Thinking he had you where you would never get away, he talked too much."

"I think I should know him in any disguise," Ned said. "I should know him anywhere, and under any circumstances. Do you think he would have kept faith with me if I had given up the documents and promised never to implicate either his country or himself in the trouble?"

"Certainly not. The fact that he revealed himself to you shows that he meant to have you murdered there. Only for the marines breaking in just as they did, it would have been all off with you, my boy."

"He must be a treacherous old chap!" Ned commented.

"His life and everything he loves is at stake."

"Then he should have kept out of the mess! Why should he want to get us into a war?"

"My boy," replied the consul, "we are sure to have a war with some great European nation before many years."

"Because the people are getting too thick over here. Because they are going to America in droves. Because the governments of Europe desire to retain control of their people after they leave the confines of their own countries. They want English, German, Russian, Italian, French colonies held under their hand instead of a mass of their subjects doing reverence to a foreign flag."

"And they will fight for that?"

"Of course. The only way we can keep out of a great and disastrous war is to abandon the Philippines, throw our island possessions to the dogs, and tumble the Monroe doctrine into the sea. Then these foreign nations can buy, steal, or conquer all South and Central America. We don't want the land there, and we can't afford to fight for the dagoes who live there."

"There is too much jingo in our country to ever do what you suggest," Ned suggested.

"I'm afraid you are right," the consul replied. "But now to business. Get your machines here and mount them! You are to leave for Peking to-night."

"And I'll not come back until I reach the town!" declared the boy.

"By the way," said the consul, "where are the papers you took from the captain of the Shark—the boat you fought with your submarine?"

"I have them here," was the reply.

"Better leave them in my safe."

Ned consented to this, and later, on the march to Peking, he was very glad that he had done.

At twilight the boys joined the flying squadron, and were all off for the imperial city, little suspecting that the perils before them were greater than any they had encountered.



CHAPTER XVI

A BIT OF SEALING WAX

The night grew clearer as the flying squadron advanced toward the imperial city of China. The roads were rough in places, but the superb machines carried the boys and their companions at good speed.

It may well be imagined that the party created something of a sensation as it whirled along. The constant popping of the engines, the strong lights which flashed ahead, and the voices of the marines brought many a sleepy-faced Chinaman to the door of his home.

Now and then the boys were hailed from the roadside, but little attention was paid to these calls. Finally, however, a voice addressed the party in English.

"Where are you going?" it asked.

Ned instructed the Captain to proceed a few paces with his company and then halted to see what manner of man it was that spoke to him in that tongue. He found an old Chinaman, a wise-looking old fellow with a keen face, leaning over a rude gate in front of a small house.