Boy Scouts on Motorcycles eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 165 pages of information about Boy Scouts on Motorcycles.

Boy Scouts on Motorcycles eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 165 pages of information about Boy Scouts on Motorcycles.

“Never heard of them,” Ned said, watching the men turn from the road into the grove.

“As you know,” the officer explained; “I have been on Chinese stations a long time.  Well, I’ve taken a fancy to study up the religion of the people.  Or, to put it right, the three religions.  First, there is the Confucian religion, which is not really a religion, for it does not deal with the spiritual.  It is a philosophy, which teaches the brotherhood of man.

“Second, there is Buddhism, with its ruined temples and begging monks.  This religion is an importation from India.  Aged people and women are its chief devotees.

“Third, there is Taoism, scarcely less popular that Buddhism.  The priests live with their families in ruined temples and practice all sorts of fool things.  They have a mystic alchemy, prepare spells and incantations, and claim to hold communion with the dead.  It is said that worthless foreigners travel about in the disguise of Taoist priests, just for the money there is in it, as fake spiritualist mediums travel about in our own country.

“The people coming are Taoist priests, all right, for they have the drums, and gongs, and fifes of their trade with them.  Their ruined temple may not be far away.  If we have time we may witness some of their foolish ceremonies.”

Ned’s face looked thoughtful for a moment, then cleared.  There was a smile on his face as he asked: 

“Do Taoist priests accost strangers on the highway?”

“Yes; when there is a show of getting money.  They are a rank lot, as you will soon see.”

“These may not be so rank,” Ned replied, meaningfully.

“’Why,” began Captain Martin, “you don’t suppose—­”

“It seems odd that Taoist priests should arrive here just at this time.”

“If these chaps really I are spies—­the spies we have been warned against—­the fellows we were sent forth to meet, why, there may be a bit of action here.”

“Well,” Ned went on, “let them take the initiative.  We shall soon be able to give a good guess as to what this visit means.”

As the four strangely clad figures moved across the little patch of field which separated the highway from the grove, Jimmie came running over to where the two were sitting, an egg sandwich in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.  As he ran the hot liquid jolted out of the cup and came in contact with his hand.

“Gee!” he shouted.  “Just look what’s comin’.”

Then he dropped the hot cup on the ground and began to dance up and down, shaking his blistered hand as he did so.

“I got it!” he said.  “There was only one hot cup in the lot, an’ I got it!  Say, Ned, what do you know about them callers you’re goin’ to have?  Look like busted washee-washee geeks from Pell street.  Look at ’em!”

By this time the marines were watching the advancing priests with curious eyes.  Breakfast was nearly over, and some of the men were preparing for a brief rest in the shady spot they had found.

Copyrights
Project Gutenberg
Boy Scouts on Motorcycles from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.