“Where’s Ned?”

“Ask this lineup,” Jimmie replied.  “I don’t know.  Gee!  If I had a face like that man on the end, I’d sell it to the wild man of Borneo, its an improvement on anythin’ he could get up.  Say, Old Socks!” he added, “where is Ned?”

“Packed up, ready for delivery,” was the reply.  “Say, how would you wild animals like to take a jaunt on your motorcycles to-night?  Nice cool night for a ride!  You might reach Poking by morning and report to the American ambassador!”

“We’ll get there in due time,” Frank answered.

“I’ve drawn the teeth of this collection of wild animals, at all events,” said the voice.  “No more Wolves and Black Bears will be apt to come to China.  Such collections are not popular here.”

Jimmie dropped back to where his chums were seated.  Serious as the situation was, the boy could not restrain a smile as he threw himself down beside Frank.  The storm was still thundering outside, and splashes of rain now and then whirled in at the open casement.

The lantern which illuminated the interior of the room showed only a round blotch against the darkness.  In this circle sat the six silent men, watchful but motionless.

“It might be a scene in a play!” Jimmie exclaimed.

Frank nodded and whispered: 

“Did they get Ned, too?”

Jimmie nodded.  His face was grave in an instant.

“Where is he?” Frank whispered.

The little fellow shook his head.  Then the voice which seemed to come from nowhere was heard again: 

“You’ll meet him in due time,” it said.

A long silence followed.  The lantern which gave out the light flickered in the wind and the beat of the rain increased in violence.  In all the adventurous lives of the Boy Scouts nothing so weird, so uncanny, as this had ever occurred.

“Well,” Jack said, more to break the strange silence than for any other purpose, “why don’t you say something?”

Then, through the clamor of the storm, came the sharp ring of steel.  It sounded to the listening boys like the purring of two swords directed against each other by strong hands.

Instantly the light was extinguished, and the shuffling of feet told the captives that the watchful six were getting into upright positions.

“Hello, the house!”

The challenging call came from the street outside.

“That’s good, honest United States!” Jimmie whispered.  “Shall I risk an answer?”

“You’ll probably get a knife in your side if you do,” Frank answered.  “The Chinks are still in the room.”

“Show a light!”

The voice was nearer than before, and the three boys lifted to their feet and moved toward the window, which was just above where they had been sitting.  Frank was about to throw himself out into the storm when a muscular hand seized him by the arm.

“Nothing doing!” a voice said in his ear.