“They must have had some reason for leaving the camp,” Ned said, after a long pause.  “They never would have gone away without some object other than amusement, or love of adventure in their minds.”

Captain Martin went to the door and stepped out into the main office, facing the marines.

“Boys,” he said, in as matter-of-fact tone as he could assume, “what did Frank and Jack say when they left the camp?”

Nine of the men looked up in wonder, but the tenth hastened to answer the question.

“Not a word,” he said.  “I was on guard, and I saw a young chap come into the little bit of light there was about the old house where we were stopping.”

“Who was it?” Ned interrupted.

The marine shook his head.

“I didn’t ask him who he was,” he said.  “He asked where the boys were, and said he was a Boy Scout from Boston, and wanted to see some one from home.  I knew that the lads would be as glad to see him as he would be glad to see them, and showed him where they had bunked down in a little dog-house of a shack just outside the house.”

“And they went away with this fellow?” asked Ned, anxious to get the story in as few words as possible.  “Why didn’t you notify the officer then in charge of the squad?”

“I didn’t think it was necessary,” was the reply.  “Well, the kid went to the shack where Frank and Jack were, and I saw them talking together there for a few minutes.  Then I saw the three of them pass through the circle of light, walking toward the city, and that’s all I know about it.  I wasn’t under orders to tell them when to go, or where to go, or when not to go.  It wasn’t for me to interfere.”

“Bonehead!” exclaimed Jimmie.

The marine glanced up at the little fellow with a frown.

“Don’t you go to abusing me,” he said.  “I won’t stand for it.  I was raised a pet!” he added, with a smile, as the boy grinned.

“Stop that!” commanded the Captain, sharply.  “If you have told all you know about the matter you may go.”

“’Wait,” Ned said, as the marine moved toward the door, “I would like to ask a question.  Would you know this lad you speak of if you should see him again?”

“I don’t think so.  It was dark, and he didn’t look me squarely in the face.”

“That’s all,” Ned said, turning to the consul.  “You’ll do what you can to find them?” he asked.

“Sure I will!”

“I can’t remain and help you,” Ned went on, and there was a tremble in his voice.  “I’ve got my work to do.”

“I understand.”

“And we’ll start right away,” Ned continued, “if you are ready, Captain.  We ought to be in Peking early in the morning.”

“It is a bad road,” the consul said, “and you’ll find, echoes of the scrap you had here waiting for you along the way.  In the language of the cablegram, keep together!”

When all were mounted there were still two vacant cycles—­those the missing boys had ridden.  Ned pointed to one and spoke to Hans: