Boy Scouts on Motorcycles; Or, With the Flying Squadron — Inside the Classic

Ned looked at the man, now lolling back on the burlap, and for a moment made no reply. Then he lied deliberately--in the interest of Uncle Sam and human life, as he afterwards explained!

"No," he said, "we were merely overhauling the machines. We are in no haste to be away."

"I see," grinned the other. "You are taking life easily? Well, that is not so bad. However, you are to start on your journey early to-morrow morning."

"I shall be ready," Ned replied. "You have just landed?"

For just a second Lieutenant Rae's eyes sought the ground, then he lifted them boldly. Ned was watching his every movement.

"No," he said, then, "I came in three days ago, but I was obliged to await the movements of others before reporting to you."

Jimmie caught Frank by the arm and drew him out of the house. Out in the deserted garden--which was only a yard or two of hard-packed earth-- he whispered:

"That feller's a liar!"

"What makes you think so?" Frank asked.

"He's no Englishman," Jimmie insisted. "He's a Jap. You bet your last round iron man that's the truth. Now, what do you think he's doin' here?"

"Well," Frank replied, "I think you are right. He's not an Englishman. The nerve of him to put that up to us!"

"Perhaps he's the gazabo that monkeyed with our machines," suggested Jimmie. "Wish I'd 'a' caught him at it!"

"But Ned says that was an European," Frank said.

"Then they're thick around us," Jimmie went on, "and we're up to our necks in trouble. I wonder what instructions this Rae person will give Ned?"

"Suppose we go inside and see," Frank answered.

When the lads reached the interior of the house again Ned and Rae were bending over a road map of the country between Taku and Peking. The visitor was indicating a route with his pencil.

"Very well," Ned said, as if fully convinced of the honesty of the other, "now about the private orders. You understand, of course, that I know little concerning the work cut out for me."

"You are to receive final instructions at Peking."

Ned smiled, but there was something about the smile which told the boys that he was of their way of thinking.

"He's on!" Jimmie whispered in Frank's ear.

"You bet he is," was the reply.

"I'll come here in the morning," the visitor said, looking at his watch, "and go out with you. The chances are that we'll have to make a quick run. Machines in good order?" with a glance at the motorcycles lying against the wall.

"We haven't as yet looked them over carefully," Ned lied again, "but presume they are in good shape. As a matter of fact," he continued, hardly able to suppress a smile as Jimmie looked reprovingly at him, "as a matter of fact, we know little about the machines. This is new business for us."

Lieutenant Rae bowed himself out of the door, and the boys gathered in an inner room to discuss the situation.

"We may as well face the truth," Ned said, calmly. "The man who was to meet us here has fallen into the hands of our enemies. We are alone in China without instructions and surrounded by foes. Now, what shall we do? We may be able to reach the water front and get off to one of the British ships in sight."

"And go back?" demanded Jimmie. "Not for me! I'm goin' to stay an' see this thing out."

"That's me!" Frank said, and Jack echoed his words.

"Well, then," Ned went on, with a smile of satisfaction at the attitude of the lads, "if we are going on, we've got to get to Peking without delay. I'll tell you what I think. The conspirators are aware that we are trying to run them down. If they can stop us before we fully identify them, their part in the plot against Uncle Sam will never be known." Rest assured, then, that they will stop us if they can."

"Then it's us for the road to-night!" said Jimmie. "That is fine."

In referring to conspirators, Ned indicated the men who had been involved in a plot to get the United States into trouble with a foreign government over a shipment of gold to China. This shipment had gone to the bottom of the Pacific.

It had been claimed that the gold shipment, which was marked for the Chinese government, had really been intended for the revolutionary party, now becoming very strong. It was now insisted that the revolutionists had been posted as to the shipment, and that it was on the books for them to seize it the moment it left the protection of the American flag.

These claims having been made, and believed, in the state department of a foreign government, none too friendly to the government of the United States. A ship had been sent out to watch the transfer of the gold. At least, that was what had been claimed, but this ship, so sent out, had, by an "accident," rammed and sunk the treasure boat. If the Chinese government did not get the gold, neither did the leaders of the revolutionary party.

It had been claimed at Washington that the whole thing was a plot to discredit the United States government in the eyes of the nations of Europe, and Ned Nestor and his chums had been sent out to search the wreck for papers which would disprove the statements made. The papers had been secured.

The point now was to connect the foreign statesmen who had burned their fingers in the plot with the affair. Ned knew that the papers would establish the falsity of the charges, but he wanted to place the blame for the whole matter where it belonged. He wanted to track the man who had conferred with known conspirators back to his home. He wanted to be able to point out the treacherous government which had so sought to belittle the United States in the eyes of the world.

The boy had no doubt that this was actually the mission upon which he had been sent when ordered by the Secret Service department to report at Taku and there await instructions before proceeding to Peking. He did not understand why he had been instructed to make the trip to Peking on a motorcycle when there were easier ways, but he was quick to obey orders. Later on he learned just why this order had been given.

"Yes," Ned replied to Jimmie's remark, "I think we may as well set out for Peking to-night. If we wait until morning, we may not be at liberty to start out."

"What do you mean by that?" asked Jack.

"Study it out," smiled Ned, "and you may be able to find an answer."

While the boy was speaking, he bent over and looked keenly at a footprint on the earthen floor of the room. It was not such a print as the foot-covering of a Chinese man would leave. It had been made by the long heel of an European shoe.

When Ned looked closer, he saw that the ground was stained a deep red, that there were dark crimson spots on the window casing. Then he saw that a struggle must have taken place in the room, for the few things it held were in disorder.

"Boys," he said, "perhaps our Secret Service man got here before we did."

A SHOE AND A SURPRISE

"What do you mean by that?" asked Frank. "If he had reached the old house first, he would have waited here for us, wouldn't he?"

"Look what's here," Ned replied. "There has been a fight in the room. The combatants fought from the inner wall to the window, then a knife was used. These stains are by no means fresh, but they tell the story. And to think that we've been here all these days and never found them!"

"Well," Frank hastened to say, "we weren't suspicious; and, then, we had no occasion to visit this room."

"We should have been on our guard," Ned replied, "but there is no help for it now. This discovery may block our going on to Peking to-night."

"I don't see why," Jack said, in a disappointed tone.

"If the man who was wounded here and carried out of the window," Ned replied, "is really the messenger we are waiting for, we ought not to go away and leave him in the hands of the enemy. It may not be the one I fear it is, but we ought to find out about that."

"It might have been only natives fighting," urged Jack.

"Of course," Ned insisted, "but we ought not to leave if there is any possibility of our friend being in trouble. Besides, Jack," he went on, "a native fight here would hardly be umpired by a man wearing European shoes! Here are the tracks, and I found others like them on the ground outside not long ago. We may as well go out now and try to follow them."

Accompanied by Jimmie, Ned went out and made a closer examination. The tracks crossed the yard and ended at the street in the rear of the old house.

"Now," Ned said, as he stepped out on the beaten course of the unpaved street, "we shall have to take chances. The trail has disappeared, and we can only depend on our enemies for guidance."

"That's fine!" said Jimmie. "We may as well go back!"

Ned pointed to a little group of Chinamen standing not far away, at the corner of a street lined with miserable huts.

"We'll walk about here," he said, "and if we get somewhere near any point of information to us or danger to the others, I have a notion that that nest of Celestials will begin to buzz."

Jimmie laughed and the two passed on, merely looking in the direction of the group as they passed it. They moved on down the street on the opposite side. The Chinamen did not move.

When they turned back, however, on the other side of the thoroughfare and stopped, on speculation, for an instant before a hut somewhat larger and more dilapidated than the others, a pair of the watchers suddenly detached themselves from the group and hastened away in opposite directions. Two more strolled toward the boys.

"What next?" asked Jimmie, in a whisper.

"Seems to me that our halting here indicates that there may be something doing in this house," Ned replied. "Suppose we go in and ask some ordinary question?"

"An' get kicked out!" grunted Jimmie.

"That will be all right, so long as they let us out at all," Ned replied with a smile. "I just want to know why our stopping here excited the Chinks who were watching us."

As Ned turned toward the house the little fellow caught him by the sleeve and held him back.

"You look out," he said, "there's a snake in there, that black-eyed snake who claimed to be Lieutenant Rae! Do you want him to know that we are wise to his game?"

Ned turned and started away from the house, but there came a call from the structure, and the next instant two men were running out to greet him. More by gestures than by words they informed the boys that there was a man in the house wished to see them.

In a moment they stood facing the man who had called himself Lieutenant Rae. He advanced to meet them and pointed to chairs as they entered the room.

"Out for a walk?" he asked, with a smile.

Ned nodded and Jimmie grinned.

"The owner of this house," Rae went on, "is an old friend of mine. We met first, years ago, in San Francisco. I'm staying here while in the town. By the way, I was about to visit your quarters."

"Come along," Ned said. "We must be getting back."

Rae left the room, saying that he would bring a raincoat, and Jimmie pointed to a rear apartment where an old Chinaman with a long, sinister cicatrice on his left cheek was bending over a table.

"That's the Chink who brings our grub," he said. "What is this Rae person doing here? I don't eat no more grub that Chink brings."

Ned made no reply, for a swinging closet door attracted his attention at that moment. Inside the narrow closet, on the rough floor, lay a pair of European shoes. Ned slipped forward and seized one. When Rae returned it was hidden in a capacious pocket.

"What is it?" whispered Jimmie.

"If I'm not much mistaken," was the reply, "it is the shoe that made the tracks we have been following."

"Then this Rae person didn't always enter the old house where we are stopping by the front way," commented Jimmie. "Gee," he added, "I'll bet he umpired that fight, and the man the Chinks carried off is in this house now."

There was no more opportunity for conversation between the two boys at that time, for Rae stood watching them closely, a sneering smile on his face. Ned turned toward the door.

"Why venture out in the storm?" asked Rae. "Surely, there is no need of haste. Your friends will not lose themselves during your absence."

"You were ready to go, a moment ago," Ned said.

"It is the storm," the other observed, with a shrug of the shoulders. "It is increasing in violence every moment."

Glancing into the rear room, Ned saw the old Chinaman leave his work and pass through a door to the west. The boy thought he recognized a significant signal as the fellow disappeared,

The lads never knew exactly how it all occurred. They only knew at the time that there was a quick rush, a flash of weapons, a desperate struggle, then momentary unconsciousness.

They decided afterwards that their enemies had rushed upon them from every direction, and that the sneering face of Rae had gloated over their capture.

"Don't injure them," Rae ordered, as ropes were knotted about the wrists and ankles of the prisoners. "I'll go out now and see that the two Black Bears," with a double sneer in his voice, "are taken into camp in short order. Bad climate, this, for school boys who imitate wild animals," he added, with a malicious smile. "A bad climate."

"You're all right!" Jimmie called out, as Rae paused in the doorway for an instant. "You're all right! But let me give you a pointer. You keep the Bears and Wolves you get in strong cages! If they get out, they'll eat you up!"

"Oh! I'll pull their fangs!" laughed the other, and then he was gone.

"This China seems to be a nice country," Jimmie said, turning to Ned. "Some people would break our crusts in instead of tyin' us up."

"I rather think," Ned replied, "that they have planned to do that a little later on. We ought never to have taken such chances."

"You can't have a chicken pie," grinned Jimmie, "unless some one kills a chicken! No more can you find out what's goin' on by sittin' down in an old house an' waitin' for someone to bring you the news in a New York newspaper! We had to keep cases on this chap, didn't we?"

"I think you would talk slang if you were drowning," Ned smiled. "Anyway," he added, "we've caused Rae, if that is his name, to show his hand. That is something."

"If we never get away," laughed Jimmie, "we can leave the information to our friends in a will! I wonder if this gazabo will get Frank and Jack?"

"Possibly," Ned answered.

"They seem to be puttin' most all the Americans in China out of circulation!" said the little fellow. "Wonder if that old gear-face thinks he can guard us an' sleep, too? Say, you watch your chance, Ned, an' I'll roll over and geezle him an' you get out of the house. Roll out, tumble out, any way to get out! There," with a sigh of disappointment, "there's another Chink in the game. Listen to what they are saying!"

TWO BLACK BEARS IN TROUBLE

Jack and Frank sat long by the window, waiting for Ned and Jimmie to return. The doors of the adjoining rooms were wide open, so they had a full view of the lower floor.

There were windows, unglazed like that which looked out on the Gulf of Pechili, too, and the lads could see for some distance along the street which ran parallel with the one upon which the miserable old structure faced.

Presently a mist crept over the sky, and black clouds rolled in from the threatening canopy over the gulf. There was evidently a storm brewing, and, besides, the night was coming on.

In spite of the fact that they had a good view all about them, so far as the house and its immediate vicinity was concerned, both boys felt that almost indescribable sensation which one experiences when being observed from behind by keen and magnetic eyes. They were not exactly afraid, but they had premonitions of approaching trouble.

"I wonder what's keeping Ned?" Jack asked. "Hope he hasn't gotten into trouble."

"Oh, he'll look out for that!"

"Of course! Ned's no slouch!"

While the boys cheered themselves with such remarks as these, the rooms grew darker and the black clouds from off the gulf dropped nearer.

"What an ungodly country!" Jack exclaimed. "I feel as if I were surrounded by snakes, and all kinds of reptiles. How would you like to take a New York special, just now?"

"I'm not yet seared of the job we are on," Frank replied, "but I'd like a half decent show of getting out alive. I feel like we were in a hole in the ground, with all manner of creeping things about us. The very air seems to be impregnated with treachery and cunning."

"That's the breath of the Orient," smiled Jack, not inclined to continue in the vein in which the conversation had started.

"I don't know why the breath of the Orient should differ from the breath of the Occident," replied Frank, well pleased at the change of subject. "It wouldn't, if the natives of the far East would put bathtubs in their houses and garbage cans on the street comers."

"Well, there certainly is an odor about the East," grinned Jack. "Perhaps it is the hot weather."

"Hot weather has nothing to do with the sanitary conditions of this part of the world," Frank went on. "Peking is in the latitude of Philadelphia, or New York. You wouldn't think so to hear people talk about the Orient back home, but you'll change your mind if you don't get out of this before winter sets in."

"Somehow I never associated cold weather with the East," Jack said.

"Why," Frank continued, "this river freezes over about the middle of December and they run sledges on the ice until the middle of March. In summer it is often 106 above zero, while in the winter it drops to about 6 degrees below. If the natives were half civilized, you might get the idea that you were in Ohio, because of the fields of corn."

"We don't know much about China, do we?" mused Jack.

This was Frank's opportunity. Before reaching the coast he had spent many hours studying up on the history of the strange land he was about to visit. His father was owner and editor of one of the most powerful newspapers in New York City, and the boy had had plenty of inspiration for historical research from the time he was old enough to read. His father's library had supplied him with all the facilities necessary to the carrying out of his inclination, and his travels with the Boy Scouts had brought him into contact with many of the countries whole history he had studied so enthusiastically.

Now he saw an opportunity of talking China to Jack, and started in at once. Jack listened eagerly, for, while interested in the past of the strange land, he was too busy a young man to spend much time in any library. His father was one of the leading corporation lawyers in New York, but the boy's inclinations pointed to mining as a future profession--when he had investigated the wilds of the world!

"We don't know much about China," Frank began, "because for centuries China has shunned what we call civilization. This is said to be the most ancient and populous nation in the world, although it seems to me that history goes back farther on the banks of the Nile and the Euphrates than on the western shore of the Yellow Sea.