Rick Brant - The Lost City Part 7

But fast as the Bombay police were, they were outnumbered. Scotty went into the fight in a headlong rush.

Rick gasped in horror as he saw a wicked blade lifted high over his friend's head. He grabbed at a loose board and flung it with all his strength. The board whirled through the air, caught the knife wielder's uplifted arm, and caromed into a second man. Then Scotty swung from the hip and the man with the knife crashed against the wall.

Rick jumped for the board and lifted it, swinging it like a flail. Once a knife thrust dug splinters from his weapon, and he brought it down on the head of his opponent. The board cracked and the man rocked, but his turban saved him. He lifted his knife and jumped for Rick. A brown leg was thrust out and Chahda kicked the man's feet from under him.

Then it was all over. One of the little officers stepped behind Rick's opponent and did something with his hands. When he stepped away, the man's wrists were neatly tied behind him. The other policeman was busy, too, with short lengths of rope. In a few minutes all five of the guards were trussed up.

In another ten minutes the warehouse was cleared of men except for Rick, Scotty, Chahda, and one officer. Their prisoners had been taken away in a police wagon that had appeared promptly. The lack of formality amazed the boys. They promised to appear with the American consul to press charges, and that was that. An officer was placed on duty, in case the missing guards showed up.

"Holy smoke! I never saw anything happen so fast," Scotty declared.

Rick was already busy checking over the crates of equipment. "It's all here," he announced at last. "Now what do we do?"

"Call the professors and have them get a truck," Scotty suggested.

"Wait a minute ... I have an idea." Rick turned to Chahda. "Can you get a dozen gharries?"

"Can do," Chahda promised. He left at a run.

"We'll pile it in gharries and take it back to the hotel," Rick said. "Won't the professors be surprised?"

"They'll be flabbergasted," Scotty agreed, grinning. "I am, myself."

Outside, it was almost full dawn. They went to the door of the warehouse and looked past low sheds across the water. It was cool now, and the dawn breeze was fragrant.

"I'm beginning to like India," Rick remarked. He was so relieved at having the equipment back that he could have done a war dance.

There was a great rattle of wheels and pounding of hoofs as Chahda appeared with a procession of gharries. The Hindu boy sat up on the high seat next to the leading gharry driver, his arms folded and his head as high as that of any conquering hero.

The dozen gharry drivers cl.u.s.tered around and there was much talk in broken English and Hindustani before Chahda finally conveyed the idea. Then they boggled at the idea of doing manual labor, like lifting boxes. This, they proclaimed with outraged dignity, was beneath them.

Rick waved rupees and the drivers reconsidered. Maybe it wasn't so far beneath their dignity after all. How many rupees extra did the Sahib say?

At last, with great tumult and excitement, the equipment was loaded into the dozen open carriages.

Rick, flushed with victory, climbed to the driver's seat of the leading gharry. Scotty and Chahda rode in back, like princes of royal blood, as Rick and his laughing but slightly bewildered driver led the procession through the awakening, dawnlit streets of Bombay to the hotel.

CHAPTER IX.

Chahda Disappears

THE gharries drew up outside the hotel with a great confusion of neighing horses and shouting drivers. The doorman took one look and ran, appearing in a moment with the sleepy clerk.

Rick a.s.sured the clerk that it was not an invasion, then joined Scotty and Chahda. "Now that we're here, where do we take the stuff?"

"The warehouse," Scotty suggested.

"I hate to let it out of our sight," Rick said. "How about taking it into the hotel?"

"Sure. Then we can keep an eye on it."

The idea was translated into action. To the night clerk's horror, the gharry drivers fell to with a will and toted the crates into the hotel, piling them squarely in the middle of the lobby.

Rick, who had been outside pleading with the drivers not to drop anything, went into the hotel and stopped short at the sight of the equipment piled in the middle of the floor.

"Good night!" he exclaimed. "I didn't mean them to pile it right in the middle of the lobby!"

"Why not?" Scotty demanded. "I'd like to see anyone steal it from there."

The night clerk had both hands on his head and was shaking it, calling upon the sacred names of his Hindu G.o.ds to give him strength and wisdom that he might know how to deal with these insane Sahibs. Despairing, he ran for the manager.

Rick, Scotty, and Chahda went out to pay off their gharry drivers. There was the usual haggling, with Chahda taking part, then Rick added an extra five-rupee note for each.

"Now," he said, "I'm broke."

"I still have a little money," Scotty said.

"Come on, we have to tell the professors about this."

As Rick turned to go into the hotel, the manager and the clerk burst through the door, followed by Zircon and Weiss.

The professors rushed up to the boys and anxiously asked if they were all right. a.s.sured that they were, the scientists went to check their precious equipment.

Julius Weiss counted aloud. Then, satisfied that the crates were all there, he turned to the boys with almost tearful relief. "Now," he said, "we want to hear all about it. Let's get Hobart and we'll go to your room."

Hobart Zircon's voice rose as he argued with the irate manager, but on the professor's promise that the equipment would be moved very shortly, he quieted down and serenity reigned in the lobby once more.

It was breakfast time before their story was told. The scientists sat on Rick's bed and listened with open mouths. When the boys finished, the scientists exclaimed in unison, "What would your father say if he knew we had let you get into a mess like that?"

The boys had been changing their clothes and getting cleaned up, as they talked. Chahda sat on the floor, his face one big smile.

"We have to get Chahda a suit," Rick said. "And we have to hire him. We promised."

"A promise it's a pleasure to keep," Zircon declared. He produced some rupees from his wallet and handed them to Chahda. "Here, my lad. Go do your shopping and get cleaned up. We'll talk about that job when you come back."

Chahda bowed three times, turned and b.u.mped into the door jamb, bowed again, and fled down the hall toward the stairs.

Scotty grinned. "That new suit means a lot to him. And he certainly earned it."

"Now," Julius Weiss suggested, in high spirits, 'let us repair to breakfast, gentlemen. I must admit this excitement has given me an appet.i.te. I fear neither Hobart nor I have eaten since the equipment was lost."

Over breakfast they held a council of war.

"I see no reason why we can't leave today," Zircon said. "There are a number of things we must do, however. Julius, will you see about getting the replacement parts, also the extra provisions and medicines we will need? The company will expect you, so there should be no delay."

Weiss nodded.

"I will take care of our travel arrangements. Fortunately it was all arranged by mail, so only a few details need to be cleared up."

Rick spoke up. "Scotty and I have to go with the American consul to the police, to identify those men and press charges."

"Hmmm." Zircon was thoughtful. "That may take some time. I had hoped ..."

A familiar voice, accompanied by the scent of menthol, interrupted. "Good morning, gentlemen. May I congratulate you on your good fortune?"

Hendrick Van Groot stood smiling at them, immaculate as ever in freshly starched whites, a mentholated tissue in his hand.

The professors greeted him cordially and invited him to sit down. He beamed at Rick and Scotty. "That was quite an adventure these young men had. The manager told me about it." He turned to Zircon. "Now you can continue your trip, eh?"

"We plan to leave today, if we can complete the arrangements."

"If I can be of any a.s.sistance, please call upon me."

Zircon's brows furrowed. "Perhaps you can, sir. I was just about to say, when you arrived, that Julius and I went to the Asiatic Geographical Union last night to see about our maps ..."

"We met several of our Indian colleagues," Weiss said. "Most interesting. But we were too late, and the vaults were locked. So we must get the maps this morning."

"Perhaps I could pick them up for you? I know the people at the Union very well. In fact, they have prepared maps for me several times."

"That would be most kind," Zircon said.

Van Groot reached into an inner pocket and produced a pen and notebook. "Perhaps you had better write a note giving them permission to turn the maps over to me."

"Of course." Zircon scrawled the note and signed it. "Now, I think everything is arranged. Thanks to Hartson Brant's foresight, we have little to do." Then he added grimly, "I feel that we will be much safer on the trail."

As Van Groot departed, Julius Weiss said, "It was most kind of him to offer to get the maps. I'm sure he's thoroughly reliable. We have a number of mutual acquaintances, he tells me, and he is a member of the Netherlands Academy of Science."

The morning pa.s.sed in a fever of activity. Rick and Scotty went to the police court, accompanied by the obliging consular secretary. The warehouse guards were brought in, identified, and charged. But none of them would talk. To all questions they presented a stolid, silent front. Nor would they admit knowing Conway. There was nothing in the police files of a confidence man by that name.

Rick left the station with a feeling of frustration. "We don't know any more than we did before," he complained. Then he gave a little shudder. "When I saw those guards in the daylight, it scared me to death. I never saw a tougher-looking bunch."

"It gave me a queer feeling, too," Scotty admitted. "We're lucky we didn't get our throats cut."

Back at the hotel, Professor Zircon was waiting. He had made arrangements for train compartments and travel permissions without difficulty. The train was to leave at two o'clock. It was already after eleven.

Julius Weiss returned. The provisions and equipment were to be delivered to the train. There had been no difficulty; he had been expected.

Then Chahda appeared. He came to the door, smiled and bowed, and they bowed back, not recognizing him at once.

"This Chahda," he said. "You forget?"

Rick let out a whoop while the others stared in amazement.

Chahda was dressed in spotless white linen with a white s.h.i.+rt and a bright yellow tie. On his formerly bare feet were white shoes and yellow socks. He was scrubbed until his brown face gleamed, and on his head was a turban of white with yellow threads. He looked more like the son of some fabled maharajah than the beggar boy with The World Almanac education.

As Rick, Scotty, and the professors shook hands with him solemnly, he almost burst with pride.

"Now," he announced, "I be your Number One boy."

In the midst of packing, Van Groot arrived with a map case under his arm. They gathered around him in the professors' room, Chahda peering inquisitively past Rick's arm.

"Sorry I took so long," Van Groot apologized. He wiped his face with a mentholated tissue. "The man in charge of the vaults had gone off on an errand and I had to wait until he returned."

"Let us look at them," Weiss suggested eagerly.

Zircon took the case and thumbed through several maps. "This is the important one," he said, "the section from the last Tibetan town to the plateau."

He unfolded the map and spread it on the bed. Instantly six heads were bent over it.

"Ah," Van Groot said, "they have chosen the very best route for you. I know it well. The other trails are almost impa.s.sable for yaks and donkeys."

"I don't see Mount Everest," Scotty commented.

"It's not on here. Our trail takes us well away from Everest," Zircon answered. "We may not even see it."

Chahda tugged at Rick's sleeve and motioned with his head toward the next room. Rick followed, curious, and Scotty joined them as the professors and Van Groot launched into a discussion of the route.

In the boys' room, Chahda said: "When I am in Nepal, I hear much from Sahibs who are making climbs to Tibet. And always they are making talks about places not on those maps."

"What do you mean, Chahda?" Rick asked.

"The path is not how these Sahibs in Nepal say they go to Tengi-Bu."

Rick and Scotty exchanged glances.

"Perhaps not," Rick replied. "Rut there must be more than one way to get to the plateau. The Asiatic Geographical people just picked one you hadn't heard of."

"Sure," Scotty agreed.

"Not think so," Chahda insisted stubbornly. "Path on maps is maybe wrong way."

"Rut you don't know that it is," Scotty objected.

"This one knows," Chahda replied with dignity.

Rick saw that further argument would hurt the boy's feelings. "Well, maybe you're right, Chahda. Rut I don't think Professor Zircon would want to change the route without proof."

He was saved from further discussion by a loud knocking on the door.

The manager stood there, and he was wringing his hands. "Please, Sahibs," he wailed. "You come, yes? Those gharry drivers! They are making ruin of my hotel. You come?"