Boy Scouts on Motorcycles Part 12

"By the lower window frames an' castings. If you'll manage to keep the c.h.i.n.ks off me I'll try."

"It is worth trying," Ned mused.

The other windows opening on the court were now closed. The sleepy natives, possibly doped with opium, had wearied of watching the figures in the rear room of the telegraph office and tumbled back into bed, or back on such miserable heaps of dirty matings as they chose to call beds.

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 pa.s.sed 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 bl.u.s.tered 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 att.i.tude 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 surrept.i.tiously entered? If he had indeed escaped, would he have the good sense to hasten to the camp instead of trying to a.s.sist 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 a.s.sistant 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 a.s.sistant manager over a broken-backed chair which stood in the way, and pa.s.sed 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 a.s.sistant 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."