The Chinaman stood looking stupidly about for a minute before placing his basket on the floor, then dropped it with a jar which rattled the few dishes within and scuffled out of the door.  Jimmie followed to see that he did not loiter around the house listening, and came back with a mischievous grin on his face.

Long before the appearance of the Chinaman the boys had planned to use such uncomplimentary language in his presence as would be likely to excite his anger, if he understood what was being said.  They did not believe he was as ignorant of the English language as he pretended to be.

“Well,” Jimmie asked, of Ned, “did he tumble?  What did you see?”

“I saw as evil a look as ever burned out of a human eye,” Ned replied.  “Looked to me like he would enjoy feeding Jack and Frank to the rats.”

“Then he understood, all right?”

“Of course he did,” Jack, answered.  “I could see that with one eye.  He’s been coming here with his grub for four days, and picking up a word here and there every time.  We ought to have had sense enough to have been on guard against such treachery.”

“What’s the answer now?” asked Jimmie, turning to Ned.

“I’m afraid we’re in a bad predicament,” Ned replied.  “This shows me new light.  The messenger we are expecting should have been here long ago, and I’m now sure that we’ve just got to do something.  I’m getting afraid to eat the food they bring us, and I lie awake at night, listening for hostile footsteps.”

“That sounds a little more like Manhattan!” Jack cried.  “Sounds like action!  We’re off in a heathen land, surrounded by enemies, and not likely to get anything like a fighting chance, but I’m for doing something right now.  I’m not going to lie still here and be poisoned, like a rat in a sewer!”

“I’m for going on to Peking,” Frank said.  “We can report to the American ambassador there, and, at least, get something to eat besides rat pie and something better than a bare floor to sleep on.  If we only had the Black Bear, the motor boat we cruised with on the Columbia river, we wouldn’t be long on the way.”

“Huh!” Jimmie observed, taking out a minute memorandum book, “it is seventy miles by the river from Taku to Tientsin, and only twenty-seven by the road.”

“And how far to Peking by the road?” asked Jack.

“It is seventy-nine Miles from Tientsin to Peking,” was the reply, “and the roads ought to be good.”

“That’s more than can be said of the natives!” Jack said.

“The allied armies marched over the road to Peking in 1900,” Frank explained, “and I rather think the inhabitants of strip of country have a wholesome respect for foreigners.  With our high-power motorcycles, ought to make Peking before daylight, if we start right after dark.”

“And don’t run across any cutthroats on the way,” added Jimmie.

“Let’s see,” grinned Frank, “we were to have a flying squadron of marines with us?  What?  I reckon they’re flying so high that they are out of sight!”