“The spirit really moved them, eh, Biff?” Muscles said.
Biff laughed, but Muscles’ joke was over Chuba’s head.
It was almost broad daylight now. The sun was rising. Biff stood up. “We’d better get going. Maybe we can reach Jaraminka by nightfall.”
“Okay by me,” Muscles agreed. “Let’s make with the feet, Chuba.”
Biff looked northward. Nestled somewhere in the foothills of the Thanglung mountains was the outpost of Jaraminka. Uncle Charlie might be there. He might be the bait being used to bring Biff and his companions into a trap.
It was a risk they would have to take.
In the distance, perhaps a hundred miles away, the towering peak of Mt. Minya Konka, reaching 25,000 feet skyward, could be seen. The day was clear, crystal-blue clear. The air was chill and would remain so until the sun’s rays bore down more strongly.
“You better take the lead, Chuba,” Muscles said. “Off we go, searching for Ja-ra-mink-a.” He sang his last sentence to the tune of the Air Force song, “Into the Wild Blue Yonder.”
“Hold it a minute,” Biff said. “You know, if we head straight for Jaraminka, we might be walking right into the hands of the enemy. Wouldn’t they expect us to take the most direct route?”
“You got something there, Biff, m’boy. What’re you cooking?” Muscles asked.
“I think we should head west, west northwest, rather than due north. Head for Minya Konka. Then, when we’ve gone further inland, cut back north and make our approach to Jaraminka from the west.”
“Good idea, Biff. Let’s move out.”
The three trudged westward, climbing, climbing. Big, craggy rocks dotted the sides of the slopes they scrambled up. Often they had to make wide detours to get around a cliff that rose straight up.
After two hours of scrambling, slipping, struggling against the rugged terrain, Muscles called a halt.
“We’d better take a break.” The rarefied air of the altitude had all three panting for breath. At Muscles’ words, Biff and Chuba sank to the ground without a word. Muscles flung himself to the ground beside them. Slowly their breathing became more even, strength flowed back into their bodies.
Muscles sat up, pulled out a cigarette. He lit it, took three deep puffs and tossed it away.
“Burns my lungs at this altitude. How far you figure we’ve gone, kids?”
“Like you said last night. If we measure the ups and downs, then we’ve covered quite a distance. But I doubt if we’ve covered more than five miles straight away,” Biff answered, and Chuba nodded in agreement.
“That plateau where Jack landed me must be just a short distance south of here. I’m making landmarks so we can spot the place when we come back,” Muscles explained.
Biff looked the area over carefully, too. Two peaks rose straight up, miles apart. A smaller peak was centered exactly between the two taller ones.
“Just like the letter ‘W,’” Biff said to himself. He would remember that.
“Think we better turn north now, Biff?” Muscles said. “Be lot easier traveling. Faster, too. We’ll be moving along the valley. Not so much of this up and down stuff. Particularly the up. I’ve had enough of that. I’ll take my climbing in a plane.”
“I guess so, Muscles. We’ll head up the valley, now, Chuba,” Biff directed.
They set off again. Traveling was easier. They moved along briskly. The air was becoming warmer, and soon the floor of the valley sent up shimmering heat waves in front of them.
Except for brief pauses, no one called for a break until Muscles looked at his watch.
“It’s noon. How about a breather and something to eat?”
Chuba broke out his supply of food—his “goodies,” Biff had named them.
“This is food?” Muscles asked skeptically, looking at the portion Chuba handed him. He ate it, but his face twisted comically as he tasted and then quickly gulped the food.
After a half-hour rest, during which Muscles complained bitterly about the menu, they were ready to continue. Their progress up the valley continued smoothly for the first hour. Rounding a sharp bend, the valley came to an abrupt end.
“Now what’s this little obstacle placed in our path?” Muscles asked.
“Wish it were just alittleobstacle,” Biff replied. Directly ahead of them, the ground angled sharply upward. Above, it leveled off like the outside rim of a giant football stadium.
“We go right or we go left, Chuba?” Muscles asked.
“We’ll go straight up,” Biff replied. “Let’s see what’s on top. Surely can’t tell from here. After we take a look-see, we’ll probably bear to the right. Jaraminka must be off that way.” Biff pointed slightly to the northeast. “Think so, Chuba?”
Chuba nodded his head.
They mounted toward the rim at the top of the sharp incline. In places, the ground rose so sharply they had to pull themselves up, grabbing the stunted trees for handholds.
Nearing the top, they ran into a barrier that stopped them cold. This was a man-made obstacle, the last thing to expect in this wild, remote country. It was a heavy, metal-barred fence. It stood higher than Muscles’ head, and three strands of ugly barbed wire were stretched along the top.
“What the—” Muscles’ eyes bugged out in astonishment.
The fence stretched out to the right and left in a long curve. The ground was cleared on both sides of the fence, forming a path easy to walk along.
“This we have to find out about,” Biff said. “Why fence in a mountain top unless there’s something inside that’s top secret?”
“That fence could be electrified. Stay clear of it,” Muscles warned.
“Could be,” Biff said, “but I doubt it. It would take a lot of power to do it. Besides, where would the power come from? Let’s follow it, to the right. But be alert. Good fences don’t mean good neighbors here. I’ve a hunch these good fences mean good guards every few feet.”
They followed the curving fence cautiously and on the alert. Biff took the lead. They continued until Biff figured they had covered ninety degrees of a gigantic circle. The fence remained an equal distance from the rim at the top as they followed the path.
“Hold it!” Biff held up his hand. Then he motioned Muscles and Chuba forward.
“Look,” Biff pointed to a gap, wide enough and deep enough for a man’s body to slip beneath the fence.
“Some animal must have been as curious as we are,” Biff said. “Something burrowed under the fence.”
“Well, what are we waiting for?” Muscles grinned. He dropped to his hands and knees and wiggled through the opening. Chuba followed, and Biff brought up the rear.
Crouching low, the three approached the top of the rise. They crawled the last few feet, reached the rim, and raised their heads slowly. What they saw made them all gasp.
They were looking into an immense bowl, covering an area so great it was impossible to take it in with one look. They pivoted their heads, following the rim of the bowl.
The activity on the floor of the bowl made them squint their eyes in disbelief. Everywhere they looked they saw bulldozers, huge cranes, steam shovels, and thousands of men working furiously. The bottom of the bowl was so far away that the working men seemed like small moving specks. The noises of the steam shovels digging into the earth and the whines of the huge crane arms turning on their metal discs rose only dimly to the ears of the astonished spectators.
Toward the opposite side of the huge bowl, two cement runways in the shape of a plus sign were dotted with planes.
In still another section of the bowl, great steel trylons, resembling oversized high-tension wire supporters, reared skyward.
“What do you make of it?” Biff asked Muscles.
The burly mechanic scratched his head. “You got me. Could be a lot of things. It’s got to be something mighty important, something really top secret to build this gigantic complex in this remote spot. And how did they get all this stuff in here?” Muscles asked himself.
“I think,” Biff said, “we’d better getawayfrom here—but fast.”
Muscles nodded in agreement. The three backed down, reached the fence, scrambled beneath it, and headed for Jaraminka.
Making as much speed as they could, they put distance between themselves and their startling discovery. Biff’s mind was filled with questions. Foremost among them was one which kept coming back like an exam question he couldn’t answer.
Did this tremendous, secret construction job have anything to do with Uncle Charlie’s flight into China?
Night overtook Biff, Chuba, and Muscles before they reached Jaraminka. All were tired. The going in the dark was rough. But Biff was determined to reach the town before they halted.
“Another hour,” Biff said, “and if we haven’t gotten there, we’ll hole in for the night.”
“Okay by me,” Muscles answered.
Chuba nodded his head.
They didn’t have to go for the full hour. Following a narrow path, no more than a rough goat trail, they rounded the side of a high pointed hill. From far below their dangerous perch on the hillside, they saw lights. Hundreds of lights, flickering like candles in a breeze. It was a beautiful sight to come upon suddenly in the night.
“Jaraminka,” Biff said, and looked at Chuba for confirmation.
“You right, Biff. That Jaraminka.”
“It’s a lot bigger place than I thought it would be,” Muscles put in.
“It’s in center of big, wide valley. Much good farm lands. Many rich peoples once live here. Is nice in summer. Not too hot.”
“How about the House of Kwang, Chuba? They have any properties around Jaraminka?”
“Oh yes, Biff, always in summer time Old Lord and family go to Jaraminka. Old Lord have big place here. His big house still here, but Old Lord not own it any more.”
“Chinese Commies run him out?” Muscles asked.
“You right, Muscles. They take over. Now this place big, important outpost for Chinese Army.”
Why would the Chinese Army have a large installation in such a wild, remote section of their big, sprawling country? The answer came to Biff immediately. That big, fenced-in construction job was not more than ten miles away. That had to be the reason. Just what was being built, though, still puzzled the boy.
“We’ll bed down here for the night,” Biff said, “and go into the town early in the morning.”
“Real early, Biff,” Chuba said. “Soon as sun start rising, farmers go into town to market place. Bring things from farm to sell. We go in with them. People think we farmers, too.”
“How about me?” Muscles asked. “I don’t look like a Chinese farmer.”
Biff laughed. “Anything but.”
“You have to stay here. Guard our camp. We go into town, find out things.”
“Okay by me. But say—be sure and leave me my pal.”
“Your pal?” Biff asked.
“Yeah. My pal of protection—the spirit box.”
They all laughed, turned in and slept.
Early in the gray of morning, Biff and Chuba were on the outskirts of the village. A stream of solemn-faced farmers passed through the city’s gate. Chuba and Biff attached themselves to the parade and entered unnoticed.
Biff had reached a decision. If any member of the House of Kwang could be located, he felt now would be the time to use the green ring. Keeping his voice low, he spoke to Chuba.
“Don’t ask any more questions about Uncle Charlie. But find out, if you can, if there are any members of the Kwang family around here.”
“I catch, Biff. If any Kwangs around, Chuba will locate them.”
The boys wandered through the sprawling city. They made for the market place, always the center of the most activity. Going from stall to stall, Chuba made his inquiries. He told the persons he questioned that once he and his father had served the House of Kwang. Now, he said, in a sad, tearful voice, he was only a beggar boy. If he could only find one of the young lords perhaps the lord would remember his father, and give Chuba a helping hand.
At mid-morning, Chuba hit pay dirt. He engaged in a long conversation with a young, slender Chinese. This Chinese was different from the broad-faced farmers, the stall-keepers, the uniformed soldiers who thronged the market place. His facial features were fine, his clothing cleaner and richer than that of those surrounding him.
Biff watched Chuba anxiously. He saw his friend bob his head up and down in agreement, then the two parted.
Chuba rejoined Biff, motioned to him to follow, and Chuba led the way back to the gates of the city. Once outside, Chuba told Biff of his conversation.
“This man I talk to. His name Chan Li. Once he young lord of house like House of Kwang. Not so big. Not so rich. But House of Li and House of Kwang good friends. House of Li taken over just like House of Kwang. He hate government bosses.”
Biff felt himself becoming excited. This could be the lead they had been searching for.
“Did you ask him if any members of the House of Kwang were still in Jaraminka?”
“Chuba did. Chan Li say yes. He say he know many things. But he say he must be very careful. Cannot take us to where Kwang family in hide-out unless we have proof we friends, not enemies, or police spies.”
Biff’s hand went inside his cloak. He felt for the ring. This was it. The ring would bring the good fortune it promised.
“What’s our next move?”
“We go back to where Muscles hiding. Then, when sun stands straight up in sky over our heads, we meet with Chan Li.”
“Where? Back in the city?”
“Oh, no. Too much risky. Remember, on our way down to city, we come to little brook fed by spring?”
Biff nodded his head.
“We meet there. Come, we tell Muscles.”
Back with Muscles, the three held a council. Their plans depended on what they would learn from Chan Li. But how could Muscles be kept informed? It wouldn’t do for him to attend the meeting.
“Maybe I could be there but not be seen,” Muscles said. “Any cover near the spring where I could hide? Maybe I could overhear what this Li character has to offer.”
“I think so, Muscles. Come, we go down now and see. Not too long before sun stand straight up.”
Near the spring, they found a heavy thicket where Muscles could conceal himself.
“When you’re translating for Biff, raise your voice slightly, Chuba. Not loud enough to cause suspicion, but loud enough for me to hear.”
“Let’s have a dry run of that,” Biff suggested.
Muscles concealed himself in the thicket. Chuba talked to Biff in a tone slightly louder than normal.
“You hear all right, Muscles?” Biff asked.
“You’re coming through loud and clear,” was the reply.
“How much time before noon?”
“Ten minutes,” Muscles called back.
Chuba spoke to Biff. “You stay here now. I go little piece down hill, see if I can spot Chan Li coming up.” Chuba left. Biff remained silent, not wanting to give Muscles’ position away by talking to him any more.
In a few minutes Chuba returned. His face told Biff the story.
“He’s coming. Be here real quick.”
“Is he alone?”
“He by himself.”
Good, Biff thought. If Chan Li acted suspiciously, or tried any funny stuff, Muscles lay in waiting.
Chan Li came into the small clearing around the spring. He bowed low to Chuba, then repeated the gesture to Biff.
“He asks who you are, Biff,” Chuba translated.
“Tell him I am a friend of the House of Kwang. I seek their help.”
Interpreter Chuba spoke swiftly.
“He says he needs proof of this. He must be sure you are real true friend.”
It was now or never, Biff decided. He reached under his cloak and took out his key chain. Turning his back to Chuba and Chan Li, he took the ring off the chain. Turning, he held it out. “Ask Chan Li if this is proof enough?”
The slender Chinese stepped forward. He took the ring from Biff’s hand. He inspected it carefully, then replaced it in Biff’s hand.
“It is the ring of the Ancient One, the Old Lord of the House of Kwang,” he said to Chuba. When Chuba gave this information to Biff, his heart pounded with excitement.
“Now tell him, Chuba, that we come here to find my Uncle Charles, or to get any definite information as to where he is.”
Chuba’s head went up and down. He spoke to Chan Li. Their conversation went on and on. Biff’s anxiety grew. Chan Li’s answer was all important.
At long last, much to Biff’s relief, the conversation ended. It was a solemn-faced Chuba who turned to Biff. “He has told me many things. Many things we wanted to know.”
“Well, what are they? What are they?” Biff demanded impatiently.
“He says Sahib Charles is being hidden from soldiers by House of Kwang.”
“What!” Biff clapped his hands. He couldn’t contain his joy. “Tell me more.”
“Chan Li says more, that Sahib Charles hurt self when plane come down.”
Biff’s joyful feeling vanished. “Badly? Was he hurt badly?”
“No. Not too bad. But enough to keep him from traveling. Now he all better. All is arranged for House of Kwang to help Sahib Charles get back to Burma.”
“What can we do to help?”
“Chan Li will take us to hide-out place. We get Sahib Charles, lead him back to—”
Biff held up his hand. “Wait.” Biff felt there was still need for caution. He didn’t want Chuba to mention the plan for the plane pickup. He didn’t want him to reveal Muscles’ presence. There was no way of knowing whether Chan Li understood English or not. Until they reached Uncle Charlie, it would be wiser, Biff felt, to hold back what little ammunition they still had.
“Ask him where is this hide-out where my uncle is?”
Chuba turned back to Chan Li. He spoke rapidly. Chan Li replied, and pointed in a direction north of Jaraminka.
“Just north of the city. In those foothills you can see from here.”
“How long will it take us to get there?” Biff was asking these questions for the benefit of the hidden Muscles.
“An hour, says Chan Li. Maybe little more. But not much.”
“And is he ready to take us there now?”
Chuba again nodded assent to the question.
“Tell him, then, that we are ready to go right now.”
Chuba spoke to Chan Li. The Chinese replied with a deep bow, and the sweep of one arm, as if to say, “I lead. You follow.”
As if speaking to himself, but in a clear voice, Biff said, “An hour there, an hour with Uncle Charlie, and an hour back—a bit more, perhaps. Four hours at the most.” Biff stressed the words, “four hours.”
He hoped Muscles would understand. He hoped Muscles would know that if they weren’t back in four hours, then something had gone wrong.
With Chan Li in the lead, they headed for the distant foothills.
Muscles didn’t move. He kept his eyes glued to his watch until ten minutes had passed. Not until then did he think it safe to come out of his hiding place. He had overheard every word. He, too, had been thrilled at hearing that his good friend, Charles Keene, was safe.
Going back up the hillside, being very careful to take the protection of all cover on the way, Muscles muttered to himself his admiration of Biff.
“Smart kid, that Biff,” he said softly. “He’s not showing his whole hand. He wants to be shown first.” Muscles looked at his watch. The hands pointed to 12:30.
“Four hours, Biff said. That will make it four-thirty.” Muscles grinned. “If they’re not back by that time, Muscles is going to muscle in.”
Nothing was said for the first half hour as Chan Li led Biff and Chuba into the foothills to the north of Jaraminka. Chan followed a course which curved around the city. The city lay below them, about three miles away, nestled in the center of an oval-shaped valley, rimmed by hills.
The growth on the sloping hillside was thick, but the path they traveled was wide and cleared enough for easy going. They made good speed. When they reached a point almost due north of the city, the path turned sharply to the left, and the incline steepened.
They puffed their way up the path, putting the city farther and farther behind them. After a particularly steep climb, they reached a level area. Looking ahead, Biff saw that the path came to a dead end against a low, stone wall. Gaping holes in the wall showed that it had been a long, long time since any care had been taken of it.
Chan Li came to the wall and scrambled over it. Biff and Chuba followed. Chan Li called a halt once they were inside the wall, and standing in a thick clump of trees. Chan spoke to Chuba. Chuba interpreted to Biff.
“Chan say we almost there. Must go most careful now. Ahead is old house, big house, once house of important family. Family all dead. Only evil spirits remain. People afraid of old house.”
Chan Li pushed deeper into the woods. Biff had no chance to voice suspicions that were growing in him. He felt that such a house must be known. But would the “evil spirits” keep authorities from investigating? Biff shook his head. He didn’t like the situation. He couldn’t tell exactly why, but his doubts grew stronger. True, the house was deep in a dense forest. It took quite a climb to reach it. It was a good five miles from the outskirts of Jaraminka, and there had been no sign of any other house on their path to reach it.
The woods started to thin out. Biff could see they were coming to an opening. As they neared it, Biff saw the gray outlines of several buildings, linked together by a high stone wall. There was no sign of life. The buildings, low, sprawling, had an ominous, mysterious quality about them. The space between the woods and the house was just wide enough for what once must have been a moat.
Chan Li led the boys to an arched opening in the wall, and they passed through it. Before them, Biff saw a large courtyard. A graveled pathway led to the main door. Three small pools were spaced on either side of the path from the opening to the house.
As they neared the door, Biff sensed and felt the presence of someone behind him. He turned his head. Two Chinese soldiers, each with a revolver in hand, had closed in behind the three.
Before Biff could raise his voice in protest, or question Chan Li, the Chinese guide spoke.
“Welcome to the House of Kwang.” He entered the door. The guards moved up behind Biff and Chuba. There was nothing they could do but follow Chan Li. He led them down a long corridor. The corridor was lined with small rooms on each side. This may once have been the House of Kwang, Biff told himself, but there was little doubt as to what it was being used for now. The small windows in the center of the doors were barred. At several of the windows they passed, silent men stared out of the bars at them.
At the end of the corridor, two more guards threw open a large, richly decorated door. Chan Li, a leer on his face now, bowed low, and with a sweep of his arm, ushered the boys through.
“The courtyard of the Ancient One. The Old Lord of the House of Kwang.” He spoke the words in perfect English.
In the center of the room two men sat on high-backed throne chairs. One of them was richly dressed in a flowing robe, decorated with red and gold dragons. The other man, much older, was in tattered clothing. A wispy beard waved downward from his chin. Both men wore tight-fitting skull caps.
“Approach, my friends,” said the richly dressed man. Biff and Chuba crossed the large room until they stood directly in front of the two men. On closer inspection, Biff saw that the speaker who wore the rich clothing had coarse facial features. His big, broad nose seemed to have been ironed onto his face. The other man, though poorly dressed, had a fine, proud face. He held his head high. His eyes, dimmed by the years, were the eyes of a frightened man, but of a man who would face his fate without flinching.
“You are seeking the master of the House of Kwang, I am informed,” the younger man said. As he spoke, two men appeared from behind the chairs. One of them had but one good eye. The lid of the other eye drooped until the eye was shut.
The Chinese of the Chicago plane!
The man turned on a triumphant smile toward Biff. “We meet again, Mr. Brewster,” he said.
“Silence, Mao!” commanded the richly robed man. “You have, I am told, a ring with you, young man. A ring which indicates your great friendship for the House of Kwang.” The smile left the speaker’s face. He leaned slightly forward, and his next words were a stern, crisp order. “I’ll take that ring. I am Ping Lu, master of the house.”
Biff reached into his pocket. He detached the ring and held it out in his open palm. Just as the richly robed man reached for it, the older man arose, bent forward, and snatched it. As he did, Ping Lu, with a sweep of his heavy arm, knocked the old man back into his chair. He seized the old man’s hand, and pried open his fist. He took the ring.
The old man spoke. He spoke in Chinese. Ping Lu laughed as the old man poured out a stream of words.
“You may interpret for your American friend, if you wish,” Ping Lu said, addressing Chuba.
“The Old One is the real Master of the House of Kwang,” Chuba translated. “He is called Tao Kwang, and is oldest of the remaining Kwang family. The ring is his. He is much angered that it is now in hands of richly dressed man.”
Ping Lu cut in. “True, all true. Once this old fool was the master of this house. Oh yes, this was one of the many houses owned by him. ButIam master of this house now. It is used by me and my government as a place where we entertain—” he chortled at the word “entertain”—“our more important guests. And Tao Kwang, though a doddering old fool now, once held sway over this territory, and still thinks he has much influence.”
Tao Kwang spoke again. Again Chuba interpreted. “Ancient One say still many sons and nephews here. Say for us not to be afraid.”
“Of course there is nothing to be afraid of,” Ping Lu said. “I hope you will enjoy your stay with us.”
“How long do you intend keeping us prisoners?” Biff asked.
“Prisoners? Let us say ‘guests.’ Of course, we will have to see that you are protected at all times. That is why it will be necessary to have you kept in a room guarded by two of my strongest soldiers. You ask how long will you be staying with us?”
Biff nodded his head.
“That, young man, depends on the cooperation I expect to get from you in a matter of great importance.”
“What is it?” Biff asked.
“You will hear, in due time. But first, a few days rest here with us should, I think, do much to show you the absolute necessity of your cooperating.”
Biff didn’t want to think of what the “few days rest” might mean.
“Tell me this,” Ping continued. “Your paying us this visit surely wasn’t only because of your friendship with the House of Kwang. I seem to remember being told of other inquiries your clever young friend made on your behalf.” He motioned toward Chuba as he spoke.
Biff decided on a show of boldness. There was nothing to be gained by cowering before this self-important official.
“You’re right. I have come here in search of my uncle. His name is Charles Keene.”
“So. Well, perhaps I can be of assistance to you. Perhaps the ring you brought with you from so many thousands of miles away will bring you good fortune.”
Biff felt like the mouse the cat was playing with.
“Is he here?” Biff demanded.
Ping Lu clapped his hands. The Chinese with the bad eye, whom he had called Mao, came to him. Ping Lu leaned over and spoke softly into Mao’s ear. Neither Biff nor Chuba could hear what was said. Mao left the room.
Ping Lu turned to Chan Li. He had been standing just behind the boys during the conversation.
“You may go now, Chan Li. And your reward will be given you as you leave.”
Chan bowed, and turned toward the door.
Tao Kwang, the Ancient One, spat out a single word as Chan left.
Biff looked at Chuba. “He call him traitor,” Chuba said.
Ping Lu leaned back in his chair. He clasped his fat hands over his bulging belly. A smirk of satisfaction was stamped on his face.
The rasp of a door opening on the right side of the huge room caused Biff to turn his head sharply. Through the door, prodded from behind by the gun barrels of two soldiers, walked Uncle Charlie.
“Biff!” Charles Keene shouted his nephew’s name hoarsely. He crossed the room and placed his hands on Biff’s shoulders. Strangely, the guards made no move to stop him.
“Gee, Uncle Charlie—” Biff broke off. He felt his voice choke up and knew he wasn’t far from tears. This, he told himself, would never do. Not in front of the leering Ping Lu.
“I’m sure glad we found you, sir. Chuba came with me.”
Chuba was grinning at Uncle Charlie. “We find you okay, Sahib Charlie. You in good shapes?”
“I’ve been very well cared for,” Uncle Charlie replied, stressing the word “very.” “Ping Lu has seen to that.”
Uncle Charlie glanced at Ping Lu, then deliberately turned from him and bowed low to Tao Kwang. A fleeting smile crossed the Ancient One’s face.
“Quite a reunion,” Ping Lu said. “And surely a most happy one.”
“It would be, under different circumstances,” Charles Keene said.
“Those circumstances can be altered to suit you and your nephew, Keene,” Ping Lu said. He added, “It is but a slight thing I ask you to do.”
Charles Keene shrugged his shoulders.
“Perhaps you would like to discuss it with your nephew. And I’m sure the Ancient One could advise you well.” Ping Lu clapped his hands. The door through which Charles Keene had entered opened again. Across the room came a tall, white-robed man. Biff glanced at the man, then stared hard at him. It was Palung, the Chinese who had attempted to kidnap him at the Rangoon airport.
Palung didn’t even look at Biff. Biff’s escape from him and his two knife-wielding thugs, had undoubtedly caused Palung to lose face. Certainly Palung must have been disgraced in the eyes of his superior, Ping Lu.
“Show our guests to the large court. They have much to talk about. And be sure this time the young one doesn’t get away.” The expression on Ping Lu’s face, the bark in his voice plainly said, “That’s an order.”
The two guards who had escorted Charles Keene into the room took their positions behind the three. A short, crisp sentence came from Ping Lu’s lips. The Ancient One arose from his chair and joined them. Palung led them from the room. The guards stayed close behind.
The room they were taken to was large, but sparsely furnished. There were two wooden chairs, plain but sturdy. Low benches, used for sleeping, lined the walls.
The door closed behind the four, and they could hear a key turning in the door’s lock. No one spoke for several moments. Then Biff went to the door to peer through its barred window. His stare was returned by a guard’s expressionless face.
Biff turned back to rejoin the group.
“All right, young man,” Charles Keene said. “Now suppose you just tell me how you happen to be here.”
“I will, Uncle Charlie. But first, don’t you think we’d better check to see if this room is bugged?”
“You’re right, Biff. Should have thought of that myself. There could very well be a microphone hidden in this room. I imagine Ping Lu would be most interested in what we’ll be talking about.”
The inspection of the room took only a few minutes. The walls were bare. There were no light fixtures, no wiring. There was no place where a microphone could have been concealed.
“Guess we’re safe from their ears,” Uncle Charlie said. “But why did they put us together? They’ve got some reason, I know.”
Biff nodded his head. He picked up one of the chairs and placed it near the bench directly opposite the barred door. Chuba brought over the other one. Biff wanted to be as far away from the guard as possible. Plans had to be made. Biff didn’t want them upset by any eavesdropper.
The two Americans and the two Chinese huddled by the wall. They spoke in low tones. Biff quickly sketched in his experiences since leaving Indianapolis. Then he plied his uncle with questions.
“But what I don’t understand, Uncle Charlie, is why they would want to capture me? I’m sure that blinky-eyed Chinese was spying on me from the moment I left Indianapolis. Even before, according to your friend Ling Tang.”
“You’re right, Biff.”
“And then I’ve told you how they tried to put the snatch on me at the airport. But why?”
“I can’t give you all the answers, Biff. I’m not sure of them myself. But I have a pretty good idea.” Charles Keene paused to light a cigarette.
“I’ve been held here almost a month, now. Sort of lost track of the actual number of days. At first I thought they’d ship me off to Peking, the capital. But if I should agree to what Ping Lu wants me to, it would be a large feather in his cap. He’d become a big shot in the eyes of the big bosses in Peking.”
“What does he want you to do?” Biff asked.
“Just sign a paper.”
“Sign a paper? Isthatall?” Biff asked, disbelief in his voice.
Charlie Keene nodded his head. “It would be quite a document, Biff. He hasn’t let me read it, but from what he has said, I get the message.”
“But why the paper, Uncle Charlie?”
“That’s what I’m not altogether sure of. I think Ping Lu believes—in fact, I know he does—he’s convinced that I came into China for a reason quite different from the real one. He believes the reason I gave him for daring to enter this forbidden country is merely a cover-up story for my real mission.”
“What does he think you’re doing here?” Biff insisted.
Charles Keene grinned. “He has me marked as a big fat spy.”
An idea was buzzing around Biff’s mind. He thought he might have stumbled on why Ping Lu was spy-minded. But he’d tell Uncle Charlie about that later. He wanted to know some other things first.
“But how does this all connect up with me?” Biff asked.
“I figure it this way, Biff. I’m sure if Palung had been able to kidnap you, they’d have started putting the pressure on me much sooner. When you escaped, it upset their plans and their timetable. They had to have you to force my hand.”
“To sign the paper, you mean?”
“That’s right. They would have held you hostage. They would have promised to release you, unharmed, if I would agree to their demands.”
“You wouldn’t trust them to live up to their promise?”
“No. But more than that. I didn’t think they had you. Certain questions I asked led me to believe you were safe in Unhao.”
“And now I turn up right in their own backyard.”
“That’s about it. I expect now they’ll start turning up the heat.”
“What do you figure is in this paper they want you to sign?”
“I think, Biff, they want me to sign an official paper, stating that I came here under the orders of the United States Government to spy on the Chinese. Just what they think I was looking for, I don’t know.”
“Would such a document be so damaging?”
“Very. It would embarrass our government and put an additional strain on relations that are strained enough already. In the eyes of the world, the Chinese could use such a paper to further discredit our country. They would aim the propaganda at those countries that are wavering in their opinion of the U.S.”
“Just why did you come into China? I think I know, but I’d like to be sure,” Biff said.
“It goes back to Indianapolis and to my friendship with Ling Tang.”
“I thought so.”
“Ling Tang is a grandson of the Ancient One here. Before I left to come out to Burma, Ling Tang asked me if I would help him and members of the House of Kwang if the occasion should arise. Naturally, I told my old friend that I would. Didn’t know then, though, how much I was letting myself in for.”
The Ancient One, although unable to understand English, pricked up his ears at mention of Ling Tang and the House of Kwang.
“I’d been out here about three months when I got a letter from Tang telling me one of his brothers was going to try to escape from China. He was going to try to cross into Burma. He would seek me out, identifying himself with the ring which bears the seal of the House of Kwang.”
“Like the ring that came through my window?”
“That’s right, Biff. Tang’s brother did get out. He gave me the ring. I, in turn, sent it on to Tang in the States. Whenever another escape was about to take place, the ring was to be sent me to alert me of the fact. A lot safer than putting such information in writing.”
“Then it was Ling Tanghimselfwho got the ring to me so mysteriously!” Biff said.
“Yes. You were to bring that ring to me, and then I would know that another Kwang was on the way out.”
“But why didn’t you wait?” Biff asked. “Wait until I got here with the ring?”