Harper's Hotel, on Mission street, both before and since the fire was always a great resort for Secret Service men.
In fact, the proprietor himself was formerly one.
As it happened, this was one of the few buildings in that part of the city which escaped the fire, so the public house at which Old King Brady turned up late that afternoon was the same old Harper's Hotel.
Detective Leggett, disguised as a dock laborer, sat in the cafe playing dominoes with another Secret Service man.
The minute he saw Old King Brady, without waiting to finish the game, he pushed the dominoes aside and made a sign for the old detective to follow, then leading him upstairs.
"I'm living here just now," he said. "I don't know as you know it."
"No; I didn't know," was the reply. "Have you caught on to anything?"
"I think so. Volckman's a sly one, but I have had a good chance to watch him. He quit an hour earlier than usual to-night. So did I, and I trailed him to China alley and saw him go into a crib there."
"Good for you! What kind of a crib?"
"Oh, there is supposed to be about everything that is crooked going on there. Mock Ting's restaurant is on the ground floor of the Dupont street side. There's a fan-tan joint on the third floor. I understand there are underground rooms. I don't actually know any of them to be opium joints, but I have no doubt that some of them are."
"It's enough that you have tracked Volckman there. What do you propose?"
"It's up to you, Mr. Brady. I have no pull in Chinatown. That is what we want."
"It surely is. I used to have a lot, but times have changed. I hardly know who to apply to now. I hate to ring in a wardman."
"I wouldn't," said Leggett, with a shrug of his shoulders. "I don't believe it would pay. I'm ready to bust ahead with you and take our chances."
"I have little faith in that, either. Volckman doesn't look like a man who used opium. He must have had special business to call him there. But let us get down there, anyway."
This conversation took place in Leggett's room upstairs.
"Better drop this rig, hadn't I?" he asked.
"I think so."
"If we only had some one who could speak Chinese."
"Get ready," said the old detective, impatiently. "We'll go ahead and do the best we can."
It was about six o'clock when they reached the House of the Seven Delights.
"We'll take supper in the restaurant as a starter," said Old King Brady. "It is not impossible that I may strike somebody I know."
They entered to find the place reasonably full.
The old detective picked out a central table, from which they could see in all directions.
Supper was ordered, and they had almost finished when Old King Brady suddenly said:
"There's a man I know. Just sitting at the third table on the left as you come in from the door."
Leggett looked.
"A Jap, isn't he?"
"Half Japanese and half Chinese. Don't you know him?"
"No."
"You will be surprised, then, when I tell you that he was once a Secret Service man."
"Is that so? He never operated in San Francisco in my time, then. What's his name?"
"Dr. Garshaski."
"Is he really a doctor?"
"Yes. I certainly ought to know him. He made me trouble enough. I don't like this. I thought the man was in China."
An inkling of the truth dawned upon Old King Brady.
The sight of Dr. Garshaski had stirred him more than he would have cared to own.
"If Alice fell into the clutches of that fellow, then heaven help her!" he thought.
He hardly knew whether he ought to show himself to the doctor or attempt to trail him.
But the matter promptly settled itself.
Dr. Garshaski saw him.
Old King Brady, who was watching him closely, did not fail to note the start he gave.
He immediately got up, and the old detective thought it was with the intention of leaving the restaurant, but instead of that he came forward to their table and, putting out both hands, exclaimed:
"Mr. Brady! I am rejoiced! My best friend! My savior, I may say! Well, well!"
Old King Brady shook hands and invited the doctor to sit down, introducing Leggett as a Secret Service man.
"Do you mind if I take my supper at this table?" asked the doctor.
"Not at all," was the reply.
Having come up with the man, it seemed to the old detective that he might as well listen to anything he had to say.
"I thought you were going to China, doctor?" he began.
"Did go," replied the doctor. "I have been across twice since I saw you. How is Young King Brady?"
"Well."
"In San Francisco?"
"I don't know where he is just now. He is working for a man on a private matter. It is some little time since I heard from him."
"And—I almost hesitate to ask for reasons such as you—you know, Mr. Brady. How is that loveliest of her sex, Miss Montgomery?"
Old King Brady's eyes were right upon him as he quietly answered:
"I cannot tell you, doctor."
"Cannot tell! Has the partnership been dissolved, then?"
"Temporarily, yes."
"You speak strangely, Mr. Brady. I hope and trust that nothing has gone wrong in that direction. You need not fear to trust me. I have quite recovered from my mad folly, I assure you."
"Something has gone very wrong, doctor. It is now several days since Miss Montgomery disappeared right here in San Francisco."
The doctor threw up his hands dramatically.
"Don't tell me that!" he cried. "Under what circumstances?"
"The circumstances belong to Secret Service business. I cannot state them. It may be, however, that she has fallen into the hands of your people."
"Now, don't call the Chinese my people. I am the son of a Japanese gentleman, as you well know. You touch me deeply. If there is anything I can do to help, command me."
"You are very kind. And your address?"
The doctor produced a card.
The address it bore was a number on Stockton street.
"I have a room in that house just at present," he said.
Leggett sat quiet through all this.
Still engaging the doctor in conversation, the old detective trod on his toe.
The signal was returned.
Old King Brady felt that he had been understood, when the Secret Service man suddenly arose and said:
"Will you excuse me, Mr. Brady? I have to keep that appointment with Holes."
"Go on," said Old King Brady. "You are a bit late for it now."
He left himself as soon as the doctor's supper was served.
Going around on to China alley, he found Leggett somewhat disguised watching the rear entrance to the house of the Seven Delights.
"That man must be shadowed," he said. "It is useless for me to undertake it other than in a general way. He has worked for me and knows my methods of disguising. He is as keen as a razor. Some time ago he fell madly in love with Miss Montgomery, and we had all kinds of trouble with him. I am afraid he is at the bottom of her disappearance."
"I'm on the job. Where shall I lay for him? Here or in front?"
"In front."
"Will I do as I am?"
"It's the best you can do at short notice. Listen. You saw him give me his card. I am going to his room on Stockton street. If I can get in I shall not hesitate to give it a good overhauling. I must be quick. Do the best you can for me, Leggett."
The Secret Service man gave his promise and Old King Brady hurried away.
The Stockton street house proved to be a four-story brick tenement filled with Japanese.
There was a bell-board with names on it, but that of Dr. Garshaski did not appear.
Old King Brady had just finished studying the names when a Jap came out through the open door.
The old detective showed the doctor's card.
"Know him?" he asked.
But the man appeared to be short on English.
"No know," he said. Then pointing inside he made the old detective understand that he was to inquire at the last door on the right, which he did.
This proved to be the janitor, whose English was quite understandable.
"Top floor," he said. "He only hire room of 'nother man. Las' door left."
Old King Brady traveled up the stairs.
He felt that he was running every risk of discovery by the doctor.
Encountering no one in the upper hall, he knocked lightly on the door.
There was no answer.
Producing his skeleton keys, he easily mastered the lock.
It was only a bedroom. There was but little furniture.
On the top of a chiffonier was Alice's picture in an elaborate gilt frame, which did not bear out the doctor's assurance that he had got over being love-sick.
Without losing an instant the old detective opened the drawers of this chiffonier and began disturbing things as little as possible.
It was not until the lower drawer was reached that he found anything to interest him.
The first was a bunch of three letters fastened by a rubber band.
There were other letters, some in Japanese and some in Chinese.
These, however, were in English, and when Old King Brady caught the signature, "R. Volckman," he knew that he had made a discovery.
This letter was brief enough. It read:
"Dear Sir: Yours receipted. I shall be ready for you at 2 thirty. All serene.R. Volckman."
"Dear Sir: Yours receipted. I shall be ready for you at 2 thirty. All serene.R. Volckman."
"This settles it," muttered the old detective. "Volckman has been standing in with these opium smugglers all right, and the doctor is in the deal. I shall arrest the man on sight."
He ran over the other letters.
All related to the landing of the smuggled opium.
In one Volckman agreed to furnish boats to the Chinese smugglers, with men to take charge of them.
The other was a demand to know when and where he could meet Dr. Garshaski.
There was no mention of the Chinese princess nor of Alice.
Old King Brady pocketed the letters and proceeded to examine a trunk, which he opened with a skeleton key.
Here he found other letters and photographs of several Chinese and Japanese women.
All the letters appeared to be in these languages, as the old detective hastily ran over them.
There was one photograph of a very peculiar looking young woman who was not altogether unhandsome.
She was dressed in a fancy Mexican costume.
To the old detective she looked as if she might be of mixed stock, Mexican and Chinese, or Mexican and Japanese.
But as none of these things interested the old detective, he returned them to the trunk and closed it.
Scarce had he done so when there came a knock on the door, which had not been locked.
Of course, this could not be the doctor.
Thinking that it might lead to some further discovery, Old King Brady slipped into a closet and remained on the watch through the crack of the door.
Again came the knocking, a little more insistent, and then the door opened and a young woman very stylishly dressed walked into the room.
A glance was sufficient to identify her as the original of the photograph the old detective had just been looking at.
She stood peering about as if expecting Dr. Garshaski to jump out at her from the closet or under the bed.
Then suddenly she made a rush for the chiffonier, seized the gilt frame, pulled Alice's picture out of it, spit on it, tore it to pieces, and stamped it under her feet, her eyes blazing with jealous rage and hate.
It was easy now to see that the girl—she was little more—was a Mexican-Chinese half-breed.
"Ah ha, my lady!" thought Old King Brady, "I see how the case stands! It's to be hoped that you speak English. You may prove a very valuable ally. I'm glad now that I came here."
He stepped out into full view.
The young woman gave a scream and made a bolt for the door.
"Stay, daughter! A word with you," the old detective said.
Harry did not have long to wait before Ah Lung got up and came to him.
His brother Wun, making a few remarks in Chinese, excused himself and left.
"You will pardon me, Mr. Brady, for making it necessary for you to follow me here," said the merchant. "I wanted to find out whether the gods were propitious to our undertaking, as you would say. I have been so busy to-day that I got no chance until now."
"And the result?" asked Harry.
"We shall win out in the end, but not without trouble."
"Yon believe in your joss sticks, I see, Mr. Lung?"
"Firmly; and why should I not? For untold ages my people have employed them to predict the future."
"Does it always come out true as they say?"
"By no means. Just about as often as what is told us by people in this world comes true."
"Of what use to consult them then?"
"Listen! If you have a friend upon whom you rely, who you have known for years, and who has never lied to you, then you unhesitatingly believe him, do you not?"
"Most assuredly."
"It is precisely the same with me. I believe that the movement of the joss sticks in my case is controlled by the spirit of my dead father. He never lied to me living. Why should he do so now that he has dropped the body and is living in the world of spirits?"
"It is too deep for me. It would seem, though, that you must be a spiritualist."
Ah Lung shrugged his shoulders.
"I know very little about your American spiritualists," he replied, "but we will not continue the subject. I am ready."
"Where do we go?"
"We will talk of that outside."
"Am I made up to suit you?"
"Yes, yes. As I look at you I fail to see how any one could see through your disguise."
They passed out of the joss house and walked down Jackson street hill.
"One thing," said Harry. "You must pretend to talk to me with your fingers deaf and dumb fashion when we come into the presence of others."
"Oh, I can actually do it," replied Wun Lung. "I have a sister who is deaf and dumb. We were able to put her through the deaf and dumb school. She knows only English. I am the only one who can talk to her. But I suppose you cannot do the deaf and dumb finger speech?"
"Indeed I can," replied Harry, with his fingers.
"Then let us begin now," responded Ah Lung in the same fashion, "for we are liable to be seen by some one whom we may meet in the House of the Seven Delights."
"And what may that be?"
"A sort of club. A secret society. But I must say no more. You promised not to press me, you know."
"All right. I am in your hands, but I just want to ask have you spoken of the princess to any of the members of this club?"
"Why yes, to one or two whom I can trust."
Harry shook his head.
"I am afraid you are the author of your own troubles, then, Mr. Lung," he said.
"I shouldn't wonder. It is a matter I should not have spoken about to any one. I see it now."
They turned up China alley at last, entering the long building into which Alice had been taken on the night of her capture.
Harry now traveled over the same ground.
They ascended one flight, entered that elevator, and Ah Lung let them down to the long corridor under ground.
Harry wondered at the many doors.
"What new organization am I up against?" he asked himself.
But of Ah Lung he asked no questions, feeling that he was in the man's hands for better or for worse.
"Now I don't know whether anything is going to come out of this or not," Lung said with his fingers. "I am expecting to meet a certain party on business. I shall bring the conversation around to the princess. The man is supposed to be my friend. If he has betrayed me I want to know it. At all events, it is my only chance of giving you a clew on which to start your search."
"Right," said Harry. "Lead on."
Lung stopped before a door, on which he knocked three times.
It was immediately opened by a young Chinaman in a white native dress.
The room was quite a large one, well fitted up with comfortable American furniture.
It looked what it actually was, a club-room. Several Chinamen, mostly in American dress, were sitting or standing in groups.
One came forward looking questioningly at Harry.
Lung said something, apparently vouching for him as a friend, and the man walked away.
Nobody else spoke to them.
Going up to a handsome buffet, Lung poured out tea for himself and Harry, helping him also to sweetmeats and Chinese cakes.
"Is this just a business club?" asked Young King Brady.
"Just that and nothing else," was the reply; "there are several clubs meeting down here. While the members are all part of one grand organization, these clubs are organized for different purposes, and a man may belong to one without belonging to another or knowing anything about the others. That's the way we work it."
"Is your man here?"
"Not yet. He is expected, however. I must hurry and get you placed."
They now left the club-room, Ah Lung, opening the next door beyond with a latch-key.
This ushered them into a narrow corridor lighted by colored red lanterns.
From it opened several small alcoves before which fancy-colored curtains hung.
Harry saw that they were intended for opium smokers, and that each would hold two persons. They were provided with soft couches instead of the usual Chinese wooden bunks.
An attendant in white came forward. Ah Lung spoke to him in Chinese and gave him money.
"I have engaged two of these rooms," he said. "You must take one now and pretend to smoke and go to sleep. Watch and listen for me, for I shall come into the next alcove with my man. I never smoke opium myself, but he does, and he always prefers to talk business over a pipe."
And this programme was carried out.
Ah Lung left Harry, who lost no time in pretending to go to sleep. The curtain was drawn before the alcove.
Harry waited an hour and grew so drowsy that at last he actually did drop off, to be suddenly awakened by hearing somebody give a loud cough. As he opened his eyes he saw a hand draw his curtain shut.
He was on the alert instantly, for he could hear two men entering the next alcove.
"And now for business," one said. Harry recognized the voice of Ah Lung.
"Wait till I get my pipe going," replied the second person.
The voice and accent were peculiar.
It seemed to Young King Brady that he recognized both.
"Surely I have heard that voice before," he said to himself. "But where?"
This was a question that as Harry lay listening he found himself unable to decide.
The pipe filling was so quickly completed and the smell which arose so different from ordinary opium that Harry concluded the man must be merely smoking some sort of opium saturated tobacco.
The talk then began.
It was precisely what Ah Lung had hinted at, a transaction in cheap opium.
The word smuggled was not used.
Ah Lung bought a thousand dollars worth, which was to be delivered next day at the store.
There was considerable haggling, the talk lasting all of twenty minutes, and all this time Young King Brady was puzzling his brains to know where he had heard that voice before, but memory refused to serve him.
As for the man's English, it was almost as good as Ah Lung's, which amounts to saying that it was nearly perfect.
Harry heard, although their voices were keyed low. It vexed him to think that Ah Lung could not have spoken the man's name, but he never did once.
Now suddenly the conversation took a different turn.
"Ah, my good friend," said Ah Lung with a sigh, "I am in deep trouble. I know you will sympathize with me when I tell you what it is."
"Of course," was the reply. "I always have sympathy for those in trouble. What is the matter now?"
"My princess."
"Ah, ha! She is ill?"
"Not that. She failed to arrive on the Manchuria."
"Is it so? Did she not sail then?"
Ah Lung told the story he had given the Bradys.
"It must be very hard for you, Lung," replied the other. "I wish I could help you. Perhaps I can."
"You? How can that be possible?"
"Listen! I heard it rumored—only rumored by men—you know who—that there was a Chinese woman of high rank who was a passenger on the Dover Castle. With her was a man who claimed to be her cousin. The man was smuggled in, Lung. I saw and talked with him. His name was Wang Foo!"
"You don't mean it!" cried Ah Lung, excitedly.
"Hush! We shall be heard."
"No, no! I tell you the man in the next bunk is deaf and dumb. Besides, he is a good friend of mine."
"But on the other side?"
"It is empty."
"Sure? Some one may have come in."
"I'll look and see."
Ah Lung did so and reported the alcove empty.
"Go on!" he said eagerly. "You are interesting me greatly. What became of this woman of high rank?"
"Ah! That I do not know, my friend, but I do know that she did not land openly. Then she must have been smuggled ashore. Probably she is concealed somewhere in Chinatown now."
"I must find out. I will employ detectives."
"Do nothing of the sort. If the woman is here, if she really is the Princess Skeep Hup, then I am the man who can get her for you. What will you pay, Ah Lung?"
"Pay! I thought you were my friend."
"I am out for the dollars, brother. Out for the dollars every time."
"What is it worth to you then to go to the trouble to make these inquiries?"
"Nothing to make inquiries, but if this Chinese woman should prove to be the Princess Skeep Hup, and I am the means of delivering her up to you, I shall expect half of that money you told me you were going to get with her, or, in other words, $5,000."
Harry heard Ah Lung give an angry exclamation, and he feared that he was going to say something which would spoil everything, but the Chinaman controlled himself.
"Why, this is almost as bad as blackmail," he said, sarcastically. "I don't mind paying a thousand dollars, but five thousand! It is nonsense!"
"It has to be or I won't work."
"Come, I'll be liberal with you. I'll make it two thousand. Go ahead and find out for me."
"Not a cent less than $5,000, Brother Lung."
"Dr. Garshaski, I believe you know something definite, that this is a deal to blackmail me."
Dr. Garshaski! Harry almost jumped off the couch.
Now he knew whose voice he had been listening to.
He wondered at himself.
How could he ever have forgotten?
"That scoundrel!" he thought. "Alice in his hands? This is terrible, but it explains her disappearance, all right."
Meanwhile the talk was going right on.
"Have it your own way, Mr. Lung," said the doctor, "but you want to decide. Do I work or don't I work? Which?"
"I will give up no more than I said. I won't be swindled."
"Very well. Then I won't do anything about your Chinese princess. Your opium will be delivered. I am going now. Good-night."
"Go," replied Lung. "I shall not forget this, doctor."
"No, I don't think you will," replied the doctor, and Harry heard him leave the room.
Instantly Ah Lung drew aside the curtain.
But Harry did not wait for him to speak.
"After him!" he whispered. "I know that fellow! He is a scoundrel! No doubt he is at the bottom of this whole business, and of the disappearance of Miss Montgomery, too."
Alice felt that her situation was bad enough as she passed through the "door of death" without Dr. Garshaski adding to it by clap-trap.
This she was sure he had done, for while the Chinese characters on the other doors were painted directly on the woodwork, in this case it was a piece of red paper, upon which the character had been written with a Chinese pen.
That it had been put there for her special benefit Alice did not doubt.
It was just like Dr. Garshaski, who was forever doing something dramatic in the old days.
He hurried Alice along the empty corridor and down a short flight of stairs.
Coming to a door, he let go his hold and knocked.
It was instantly opened by a very Chinese-looking Chinaman wearing a rich native dress.
The room was rather small, but well fitted up as a bed chamber, partly in Chinese and partly in American style. In the middle of the floor stood the box which was supposed to contain the Chinese princess.
"So you have come at last!" exclaimed the Chinaman in his own language. "I thought you never would."
"Patience, Wang Foo," replied the doctor. "We can't get there all in a moment."
"But the princess may die. She may be dead now. I believe it. She ought to have been released long ago."
"Patience, I tell you. I know my business. She is in no danger of death whatever."
"And the woman you were to bring to look after her. She must have an attendant. She is not to be ill treated. She is of my own blood."
"The woman is here."
"What, a white woman?"
"Yes."
"Of what use can she be?"
"I know her of old. She is an excellent nurse. None better."
"But she cannot talk to the princess."
"There you are quite mistaken. Better be careful what you say to her. She speaks Chinese as well as you do."
Wang Foo stared at Alice and asked her name.
He managed to grasp the Alice part, but the rest was quite beyond him.
"Hurry! Hurry," he cried.
"Alice," said the doctor, "I am going to resurrect the princess now. Sit down in that easy-chair and make yourself at home."
Alice silently obeyed. Thus far there seemed nothing so terrible coming out of the passage through the door of death.
The doctor asked for a screw-driver, and Wang Foo produced one, with which he made short work of opening the box.
There, apparently, in a deep sleep, lay a little doll of a Chinese woman upon blankets carefully fitted into the box.
She was in plain native dress, and her feet were not bigger than those of a good-sized doll.
This alone proved that she belonged to a good family.
The ordinary Chinese women do not compress their feet.
The doctor bent over the box and listened at her heart.
"She's all right," he said. "I'll have her out of this in no time."
He produced a leather medicine case, and, taking a tumbler from the washstand, proceeded to mix small portions of the contents of two different vials.
The result was a reddish liquid, of which he administered a few drops to the princess.
"Now, Alice," he said, "we can talk freely before this man, who is just from China and can't speak a word of English. Our love affairs can hang over a few days. Just now I am going to explain about this woman. She is the daughter of a rich Pekin Mandarin, who has sold her to an equally rich merchant here in Chinatown. They are really in love with each other, and the woman came to California of her own accord, although not in just the way she set out to do. She is also the granddaughter of a rich old Chink on her mother's side, who died in San Francisco at the time of the great fire. He left a pile of ready cash behind him, but no one knows where he hid it. That he did hide it somewhere on the night of the fire is certain. Just before his death, as I have the best of reason for believing, old Gong Schow wrote out this secret of the buried money and sent it to a man in China with instructions for him to deliver the letter containing the secret to his granddaughter on her twentieth birthday. It was done. This funny little midget alone knows where Gong Schow's wealth is buried. She has kept her secret well. She promised her lover to reveal it to him on their marriage day. Wang Foo knows all this. He is my partner in certain business transactions. He is her cousin. He started to escort her to Shanghai from her home in Pekin. There she was to sail on the Manchuria for San Francisco. But Wang Foo deceived her and took her aboard an English tramp steamer, the Dover Castle. He has delivered her to me. She must be made to give up her secret, fair Alice. That was another reason why I kidnaped you. I want you to do the detective act. Get the secret out of the princess as best you can, only get it. Make her understand that if she don't give it up she will surely die. You have followed me in all this, I hope?"
"I certainly have," replied Alice, adding: "At your old tricks, doctor. Forever plotting and scheming. Am I to be kept alone with this Chinese princess then?"
"That's what you are, and it's up to you to work my schemes out to success, for it is I and not Wang Foo who must have this hidden treasure——But she is waking; my drug has done it's work."
It was so. Inside of a few minutes the Chinese princess had fully revived.
She was little, but she made it hot for those around her.
Such a temper Alice never saw displayed in any Chinawoman.
She began by screaming, demanding to know where she was and why she was there.
She turned on Wang Foo with all the fury of a tigress, accused him of drugging her, of kidnaping her, and then began yelling to be taken to Ah Lung.
As for Dr. Garshaski, she did not appear to know him. She seemed to feel an instinctive hatred for him, however. She clawed at his face and tried to hit him when he started to help her out of the box.
She got out herself, however, and promptly tumbled over on her little feet. Like many another Chinawoman of her class, she could scarcely walk.
Wang Foo did not attempt to reply.
At last he and Dr. Garshaski left the room, taking the box away with them.
After a while they returned with two trunks containing the belongings of the princess, whom they found crying in Alice's arms.
"That's right, Alice, that's right," said the doctor, delightedly. "I see you know your business as well as ever. Keep it up, my dear, and see here, I have determined to make you a promise. If you succeed in worming the secret out of that horrid little fright, you shan't marry me unless you really want to—so there!"
"That's certainly kind of you," said Alice with a half sneer. "All right, doctor, I'll see what I can do."
She did nothing of the sort, of course.
During the days of her unexplained absence, Alice remained shut in that room with Skeep Hup, the Chinese princess, an old Chinawoman serving them with their meals and otherwise attending to their wants.
Two Chinamen with drawn revolvers stood outside the door every time it was opened. There was no possibility of escape.
During this time Alice got very close to the princess.
Little Skeep Hup seemed to take a great liking to her from the first, which increased as the days dragged by.
She told Alice about everything she knew except the secret of the hiding-place of her grandfather's buried treasure, which she claimed she knew. She confirmed Dr. Garshaski's story in every particular, and upbraided herself bitterly for having been foolish enough to listen to the lies of Wang Foo.
But where was Wang Foo?
They saw no more of him.
Dr. Garshaski came every day towards night asking as to Alice's success.
She put him off as best she could.
"The princess will not reveal her secret," she said at last, "and who can blame her? The best thing you can do, doctor, is to go and blackmail Ah Lung out of a few thousand and set her free."
This was on the night the Bradys had the call from Ah Lung.
The doctor's face grew dark as Alice said it.
"Do you say so?" he exclaimed. "Well, we shall see!"
He turned on the princess and said:
"Now look here, little woman, to-night you have to tell your secret or take the consequences. Understand?"
Then Skeep Hup flew into one of her rages, and the doctor was getting it good and plenty when he abruptly left the room, saying in English to Alice as he went out:
"This is played out. She shall be made to tell, and you, who I believe have put her up to this, shall see the job done. You will find out that it is no joke to have passed through the door of death."
And this Alice translated for the benefit of Skeep Hup, asking her what she supposed it meant.
"It means torture, that's what it means," replied the princess, promptly. "No matter. They will never get the secret out of me. I will never reveal it to any one but Ah Lung."
And here is what followed:
No supper came that night.
Alice and the princess waited until they were tired, and were just preparing to go to bed when the door was suddenly thrown open and two men wearing hideous paste-board masks after the Chinese style entered the room.
Dr. Garshaski and another followed them, an old Chinaman with a long, drooping mustache. A person Alice had never seen.
"Young women," said the doctor, "you are to follow us to the torture room, unless you, Princess Skeep Hup, instantly reveal what I wish to know, or, rather, give me your promise to do so, for it must be revealed to me alone."
The princess set her lips together, and, throwing intense scorn into her speech, defied him.
They were then led along the passage, through a door at its end, up steps and through another passage, winding up in a room all draped in black, which was dimly lighted by a solitary candle placed within a human skull resting on an old-fashioned coffin, which looked as if it may have been made to fit the princess, judging from its size.
Beyond this was a low table provided with an arrangement of ropes attached at one end to a post at the other to a large wooden jackscrew.
It was a wicked-looking engine.
Alice shuddered.
"We have fallen into the hands of a bunch of yellow fiends," she thought. "I wonder if there is anything too wicked for Dr. Garshaski to do?"
The two masks now seized the princess and laid her down upon the table on her back.
They then proceeded to tie her hands to the ropes attached to the post, while her feet were made fast to those attached to the screw.
The brave little woman never let out a whimper—never said one word.
"You see, Alice," said the doctor, taking his place beside her. "Don't you think of interfering, or you shall get your dose."
"You yellow fiend!" breathed Alice, feeling that such cruelty was beyond endurance. "Wouldn't I like to have the turning of that screw with you on the table! How dare you resort to such barbarous methods as this?"
"Have a care!" hissed the doctor. "That's the rack—the old-fashioned rack, such as your white holy men used to resort to when they wanted to make a man holy in some other way than his own. It is still in use in China for extorting confessions from thieves. Nice contrivance, isn't it? But its use has been by no means confined to the Chinese."
"What you allude to happened two hundred years ago, and you know it," retorted Alice. "It takes yellow fiends like you and your friends here to torture a woman in these days!"
"Bah! They would rack people to death for religion's sake to-day if they dared," answered the doctor.
"But you have your warning, so heed it," he added, and advancing to the princess, he again asked her if she was ready to reveal the secret.
"Never!" she cried. "You can torture me all you will, but you will never learn from me that which will place in your hands what I choose shall belong to my husband, Ah Lung."
"Ah Lung is not your husband nor will he ever be unless you yield to my request," declared the doctor.
She gave him one look and turned her head away.
"Give the screw a twist!" cried the doctor, and the old Chinaman obeyed, the two masks standing on each side reciting something in old Chinese which Alice could make nothing of.
Skeep Hup bore the pain thus inflicted unflinchingly.
She shut her eyes, set her lips, and never uttered a sound.
"Will you tell?" demanded the doctor.
No answer.
"Give it another turn!" he thundered.
The screw was turned again.
The masks chanted louder than ever.
The Chinese princess groaned in her misery. Alice was forced to turn her head away.
They let her lie so for a few minutes before the doctor again put the question.
This time she answered, declaring that never would she tell.
"You fool!" cried the doctor. "Do you realize that I mean to continue to order that screw turned until your limbs are wrenched off?"
"I believe you," replied the princess, "but I shall never tell."
He let her lie there in agony for a few minutes, and then put the request again.
This time there was no answer.
The victim of this yellow fiend was almost past speech.
"Go it again!" thundered the doctor.
"You fiend!" cried Alice. "Release that woman or I'll do something desperate. In the name of humanity! In the name of your mother! Dr. Garshaski, forbear!"
"Interfere at your peril!" thundered the doctor, and as he spoke the screw was turned once again.
If Alice had been in possession of her revolver she surely would have shot the fiend, but that had long ago been taken from her.
Helplessly she turned her head away, stopping her ears that she might not hear the cries which the wretched Chinese woman could no longer keep back.
But the cries suddenlyceased.
"She has fainted," said the torturer.
"You have killed her, poor soul!" moaned Alice. "Oh, you yellow fiends!"
It was undoubtedly the mildness with which the old detective spoke which influenced the young woman to stand her ground.
"Who are you? What are you doing in this room?" she faltered.
"I might put the same question to you, young woman," Old King Brady replied. "I was a witness to your display of rage against a picture. You must be in love with Dr. Garshaski, then?"
"In love with him!" she cried with a hysterical laugh. "I hate him! I am his wife."
"So? In that case I may as well introduce myself. Did you ever happen to hear him speak of Old King Brady, the detective?"
"Yes; many a time. He also was a detective. He once worked for you in New York."
"Yes, for a short time. Were you his wife then, may I ask?"
"Sure I was. I married him five years ago. He deserted me. He has never provided for my support since. I have been living in Los Angeles. I only came to San Francisco day before yesterday. I happened to meet him in the street. I tell you I made it hot for him. He gave me the slip or I would have had him arrested. I learned that he was living here. I have been here again and again, but this is the first time I have been able to get into the room."
"Do you know whose picture that was which you destroyed?"
"Sure I do. A woman he married in New York two years ago. He is living with her here now, but I'll have him arrested. I am his lawful wife."
"You are quite mistaken. He never married her."
"He told me he did. He showed me her picture one time about a year ago."
"He lied. That lady is my partner. Dr. Garshaski so pestered her with his attentions that I had to have him arrested. Then I was told that he went to China."
"So he did. Twice since then. Mr. Brady, I begin to believe you are telling me the truth."
"I certainly am, but let us leave this house. I don't wish the doctor to know I have been here. I should like to talk with you further, Mrs. Garshaski."
"I'll go, but you needn't call me that. I go now by my mother's maiden name. I am known as Inez Reyes."
"Mrs. or miss?"
"Miss."
"Very well, Miss Reyes. Let us get out; that is if you have accomplished your purpose here."
"My purpose!" she replied, grimly. "My purpose is to catch my husband and make him give me money to live on. He is an opium smuggler. He is rolling in wealth. I don't care what he does so long as he gives me money to live on."
"Perhaps I may be able to help in that, but we won't talk any more about it till we get on the street."
They then hurriedly left the house.
As they walked along, Old King Brady explained about the disappearance of Alice.
"You say you heard that Dr. Garshaski had her in his power," he added. "Who told you this?"
"A Chinese woman I know. She is my aunt."
"You are Chinese on your father's side?"
"Yes, I am, and I'm not ashamed of it, either. My father was a good man."
"He is dead?"
"Yes, and so is my mother. She was a Mexican woman. I was born and brought up in Mexico. I wish I had never left it."
"Listen, Miss Reyes," said the old detective. "You say you need money. If through your means I can rescue Miss Montgomery from the clutches of Dr. Garshaski, I am going to give you $200."
"And you will arrest him and send him up?"
"I most certainly shall."
"Then I'll help. My aunt told me that the doctor had Miss Montgomery at the House of the Seven Delights, but she did not say he was holding her a prisoner. She lives there herself. She ought to know."
"Where is this House of the Seven Delights?"
"It runs through from Dupont street to China alley," was the reply, and the woman named the block.
"And what is it?" persisted Old King Brady.
"Oh, a sort of club-house. A lot of different Chinese clubs meet there. There is a big restaurant on the ground floor; there are opium joints and fan-tan joints in it."
"Same place," thought the old detective. "But where are the dungeons of this House of Delights, I wonder?"
"Can you find out in just what part of the house the doctor has Miss Montgomery concealed?" he asked.
"Listen here," replied the woman. "The only thing I can do is to see my aunt and tell her that you have promised to aid me. She hates my husband as much as I do. Still, you know how helpless Chinese women are, so just what she will do I cannot say.
"But we must not be seen together on Chinese alley, Mr. Brady. Where can I find you? Appoint a place."
"How long shall you probably be gone?" asked the old detective.
"Not over half an hour. I will keep on the block on the Dupont street side. Meet me there."
They parted at the alley, Old King Brady pushing on to Dupont street.
He had scarcely turned the corner when he ran into Detective Leggett.
"Well?" he demanded. "What about Volckman?"
"I haven't seen him since," was the reply. "Evidently he has given me the slip somehow."
"Let him go. I have secured evidence against him which will enable us to arrest him at any time," and the old detective went on to explain.
"I want your help in this new business," he said.
"Right," replied Leggett. "Can't we go it alone, thin?"
"I'm going to try it that way, anyhow. You follow me right after I make the start. If I want you to join me I'll let you know."
They separated then, and for more than half an hour Old King Brady paced the block; finally he was joined by Inez Reyes.
She did not stop to talk to him, but merely said as she walked slowly past the doorway in which the old detective was standing:
"We must not be seen together. You follow me."
Old King Brady fell in behind.
Looking back he caught sight of Leggett on the other side of the street, and made a sign for him to join the procession.
The woman rounded the corner and entered the alley, slipping in at the door of the House of the Seven Delights.
She did not ascend the stairs, but passed along the dimly lighted hall till she came to a door under the main stairway. There appeared to be nobody but themselves in the hall. Looking sharply up and down, the woman halted and waited for Old King Brady to come up in response to her signal.
"All I could get out of my aunt," she whispered, "is that this door is one way of getting into the private rooms in this building. It is not the way used by the club members; there are several other ways in and out. She says that Miss Montgomery was still there this evening; she is locked in one of the secret rooms. She won't tell me which one nor how to find it. There seems to be some mystery about it all which I can't fathom, and she is evidently afraid to reveal it. But she says that what you tell me is true, Mr. Brady. Miss Montgomery hates my husband.—It is such a relief to know it. I tried every way I knew to persuade my aunt to help up, but she is afraid to make a move. I don't know what more to do."
"There is nothing more you can do," replied the old detective. "Go and leave me to do the best I can. You will probably see a tall man standing just outside the door. Tell him I want him, please. I am staying at the Palace Hotel. Call there to-morrow and I will give you your money in case I succeed. I shall be glad to do what I can to help you in any case."
She thanked him and left; in a moment Leggett joined the old detective who in the meantime had unlocked the door with his skeleton keys.
Three Chinamen came shuffling through the hall from the Dupont street end, evidently diners from the restaurant going out that way.
Old King Brady with his back to the door talked aloud to Leggett on a different subject.
The men, paying no attention to them, passed on.
"All the young woman has been able to learn is that this stairway leads down to the private rooms," Old King Brady then explained. "I have managed to unlock the door. Let us push right ahead."
He opened it and a long, dark, narrow stairway was revealed.
"This is probably intended for a way of escape in case of fire," said the old detective. "Shut the door, Leggett, I'll get out my flash light and we will go on down."
"It's mighty dangerous business, Mr. Brady."
"Of course. Come on!"
He led the way and they descended the stairs, ending up at a door covered with sheet iron which had neither lock nor knob.
"Balked," breathed Leggett.
"Balked nothing," replied Old King Brady. "This door is controlled by a spring which works in the simplest sort of fashion."
He pressed it and the door flew open.
The long, lighted corridor already described lay beyond.
Old King Brady surveyed its many doors in silent dismay.
"Now we are balked," he whispered. "This is more than a Chinese puzzle. Which door to choose?"
"You may search me," replied Leggett. "What can be the object of all these doors?"
"Stand back!" breathed Old King Brady, and he allowed the iron door which was self-closing to swing almost to.
For out of one of the doors a man now came and that man was Dr. Garshaski.
Hastily closing the door behind him he walked on rapidly along the corridor, opened another door and disappeared.
Old King Brady carefully noted the door and was about to venture in, when the first door opened and two Chinamen emerged.
Both were in American dress. One pointed along the corridor in the direction taken by the Doctor. They halted at the door through which Garshaski vanished.
It was too far off to enable the watching detectives to see their faces plainly, the dim red lights making it additionally obscure.
The two men stood talking for a few seconds then one of them got out what seemed to be a bunch of keys and began fumbling with the lock. As their backs were now turned to the detectives it was impossible to make out just exactly what they were doing.
In a moment the door was opened and they disappeared inside.
Old King Brady was about to press forward, but now came other delays.
A different door opened and four Chinamen came out. They shuffled along the corridor, talking, and entered at still a different door.
At the same time five others came out of that door and for fully ten minutes stood talking in the corridor, vanishing at last through the door out of which the others came.
Again Old King Brady thought he had got his chance, but once more he was balked in the same way.
At last his chance really did come and finding that they had the corridor to themselves he and Leggett pushed on.
Now at the start the old detective had been at particular pains to identify that door.
But did he still remember it? was the question.
He could not feel by any means certain and the worst of it was a quick decision was absolutely necessary.
"I think this is it," he said, pausing before a certain door.
"You want to be sure," replied Leggett.
"I am as sure as I can be. Yes. I think this is it."
The door was locked and the old detective getting out his skeleton keys went at the job of opening it vigorously.
He quickly succeeded.
A narrow, dark staircase leading up lay beyond; leaving the door unlocked, Old King Brady pressed on to the top flight, no great distance, coming out upon a semi-circular platform where there were three doors.
There was no light here.
The old detective flashed his electric lantern around.
"Your Chinese puzzle isn't it, Mr. Brady," whispered Leggett. "Is there any end to the mysteries with which these Chinks like to surround themselves?"
"None, absolutely none," replied the old detective. "It makes one tired to try to follow their curves. But listen a moment. We may catch on to something."
"It's a blame sight more likely that someone will catch on to us," growled Leggett.
"Hush! Hush! Listen!"
He had scarcely spoken when someone behind the middle door called out in a loud voice in English:
"Now, Ah Lung, I've got you. You scoundrel! It was I myself who kidnapped your princes! The secret of Gong Schow's hidden treasure is mine! Now you die!"
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Three shots were instantly fired.
"This is murder!" cried Old King Brady, and he threw himself against the middle door from behind which the shots came.
Urged by Harry, Ah Lung jumped to the outer door of the smoking room as this part of the House of the Seven Delights was called.
Young King Brady hastily adjusting his clothes—he had taken off his coat and vest after the manner of opium smokers—prepared to follow him, but Ah Lung was back before he could get ready.
"Well?" he demanded.
"I know where he went," replied Lung. "Are you ready?"
"Yes."
"Then come with me."
They passed out into the corridor.
There were the "two Chinamen" seen by Old King Brady and Leggett.
"Where did he go?" demanded Harry.
"Listen," replied Lung. "We—the organization, I mean—don't make use of all this big building. Our part is only on this side. There are rooms on the other side which we rent, some to secret societies, others to individuals; most of them are vacant just now. The Doctor went in through a door leading to a suite of these supposed-to-be vacant rooms and here it is."
He paused before the door which Dr. Garshaski had called the "Door of Death."
It carried no red paper on it now, but a Chinese character painted on the panel.
"What does that say?" asked Harry, pointing to it.
"Flat to let," replied Ah Lung, "but I strongly suspect that our janitor is allowing the Doctor to use it for purposes of his own. Otherwise why should he be going through that door? Still it may have been rented to him for all I know. Anyhow that's where he went. What do you think of it? Shall we attempt to follow him up?"
"By all means," replied Harry. "Let me tell you something. I know this Dr. Garshaski. He is an infamous scoundrel."
Ah Lung shrugged his shoulders.
"We meet all kinds," he replied. "They are necessary to make up the world. But you heard what was said; you heard him try to blackmail me. Do you believe he really knows anything about the princess, or is it all bluff? There was nothing that he said he had not heard from me before."
"I don't believe it was bluff and I do believe he has the princess," replied Harry, "and I'll tell you why."
He went on to explain about Alice, and this while he was trying his skeleton keys.
"I believe he has Miss Montgomery a prisoner in the rooms you speak of," he declared, "and it would not surprise me a bit if the princess was there too. Hello! I've got the door open now. Shall we go exploring and see what we find?"
"Surely. If that is your belief. I am with you, of course," replied Ah Lung. "But lock the door behind you," he added. "We don't want anybody prowling after us."
Harry scarcely saw the necessity of it, but he locked the door.
The long corridor was dimly lighted by a solitary gas jet.
"Why this is strange," said Ah Lung. "I never was in this part of the building before."
"This corridor surely leads in under the next building," said Harry.
"Of course, it does, I never knew of its existence. I shall inquire into this."
"Sure you've got the right door?"
"Positive. Come on."
At the end of the corridor they made the same turns Alice took and at last found themselves up against three doors.
The ones on the right and the left were locked, but the middle one stood slightly open.
Harry pushed it wide open and flashed his light inside, having already drawn his revolver in case of emergency.
The room was entirely unfurnished.
Ah Lung stepped in and looked around.
"Nothing here," he remarked, when the door shut with a bang.
Harry sprang to it, but all too late.
Somebody must have been watching them, for now somebody had bolted that door on the other side.
"Well, upon my word!" cried Ah Lung, "we have walked right into a trap."
"That is certainly what we have done," replied Harry disgustedly, "and the worst of it is here I've been talking. I suppose every word we have spoken has been overheard."
"Every word, Mr. Young King Brady," spoke a voice above them.
"Garshaski, you villain! What do you mean by this?" shouted Ah Lung, recognizing the Doctor's voice.
"Business," was the reply. "You would not accede to my very modest request so I have to do the best I can for myself. So Young King Brady was your deaf and dumb friend in the next alcove, was he? Say, Lung, I'm going to read you a lesson. I'm going to teach you how dangerous it is to muss with me. As for little Brady he knows how I love him and what good reasons I have for my extreme affection. But you are dead wrong if you think the fair Alice is here, Harry."
"Did you kidnap her, Garshaski?" demanded Harry.
"Did I? Why sure I did," was the reply. "Who else? And I bagged your princess, too, my bold Lung. Listen, brother Chink; the plot was all mine. It was I who put up the job with Wung Foo. He brought your little would-be bride over to the boat on the Dover Castle. Same boat we brought that hop on, Lungy, old man! To avoid trouble, for Wang Foo had to be smuggled in as well as the hop, I drugged your pretty princess and boxed her up. Then in butted the Bradys after their usual fashion, but I watched my chance and got there and, Harry, I got your Alice, too. That pleased me more than all."
From where was the man speaking?
The sound of his voice seemed to be from above.
At the beginning of it Harry shut off his flash light and they had been standing there in the dark, but now he turned it on again and flashed it around.
There was no one to be seen. He could see no opening in the ceiling overhead.
"Hide and seek! You can't find me!" cried the voice with a chuckle. "Say, Lungy, old man. I know why you were so stuck on marrying Skeep Hup. I know her secret! Did you think I'd sell out for any $5,000? No, not for five times five. I'm out for bigger game."
"Has she betrayed the secret to you?" cried Ah Lung quickly.
There was no answer.
Again and again the merchant repeated the demand, but it was just the same until all at once the voice fairly shouted:
"Now, Ah Lung, I've got you! It was myself who kidnapped your princess! The secret of Gong Schow's hidden treasure is mine. Now you die!"
As he spoke these ominous words three shots were fired in quick succession through some hole in the ceiling.
Instantly Harry shut off the light.
Probably he was not quick enough to prevent the would-be murderer from taking some sort of aim, for Ah Lung with a deep groan dropped to the floor.
At the same time a violent banging was heard overheard.
Harry held his breath and waited, not daring to turn on the light.
"Lung, are you badly hurt?" he breathed.
There was no reply.
"Lung! Speak! Where are you hit?" persisted Harry.
Still no answer.
The banging kept right up.
"He is dead," thought Young King Brady. "Merciful heavens! What about Alice's fate in the hands of that yellow fiend?"
Just then came a crash. Hurrying footsteps were heard overhead.
"Why there is nobody here, Leggett!" Old King Brady's voice exclaimed.
"Upon my word!" thought Harry. "And just in the nick of time!
"Governor! Oh, Governor!" he shouted.
"Harry, my dear boy, where are you?" cried Old King Brady, for like Harry and Ah Lung, he and the Secret Service man had penetrated into a seemingly vacant room.
"I fancy I am in the room below you!" replied Harry. "So? Who fired those shots? You?"
"No, that yellow fiend, Garshaski!"
"As I supposed. You are not hurt, I judge from the way you speak."
"I am not, Governor, but poor Ah Lung who is here with me got it in the neck and I greatly fear he is dead."
"Well, well, that's a bad job. Do you know anything of Alice?"
"Only that Garshaski said she is far enough away if you can believe him, which is more than I can. Can't you come down here?"
"I must try to get there. Are you locked in?"
"Bolted in, most securely."
"There seems to be but one door here; I daresay there is another, a secret door. But I am going to take the back track and try it another way."
"I don't care what way you try it as long as you get here. I'm in a bad enough fix. I have no doubt Ah Lung is dead."
All this talk took place in the dark.
Harry was so rattled that he did not turn on his flash light. He never even thought of it until now, and he flashed it on Ah Lung.
Evidently the Chinaman had been hit in the head for his face was all covered with blood.
He was breathing, however. There seemed to be some slight hope.
Meanwhile Old King Brady, who had broken the door down after several attempts, returned to the semi-circular hall outside.
"This is a great piece of business, Leggett!" he exclaimed. "We must make haste and get Harry out."