Boy Scouts on Motorcycles Part 17

"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, pa.s.sed 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.

"h.e.l.lo, 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 a.s.sist 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 emba.s.sy 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!"