The priests, if such they were, entered the grove, passed through the group of men without a glance to the right or left, and approached the spot where Ned and the Captain sat.  Here they drew up in a line, much as the fakirs of the East Indies perform, with their crude drams, gongs and fifes in full view.

“Hello, Sports!” Jimmie cried.

Ned motioned to the boy to remain silent.

The Captain addressed the priests in a couple of Chinese sentences, but received no immediate answer.  One of the fellows, the one with a great star painted, or worked, on the breast of his gown, soon advanced and stood directly in front of Ned.

“We have had warning of your approach,” he said.  “We have been waiting for you for many days.”

Ned started, for the words were spoken in English.  The Captain muttered under his breath: 

“I haven’t a doubt of it.”

“What do you want?” asked Ned.

The four bowed to the ground.

“Attention.  The mysticism of the East is open to you if you are brave and strong.”

“Bunk!” whispered Jimmie.

“Where do you live?” asked the Captain.

The leader pointed to a pile of broken stones at the edge of the grove.  A closer inspection of the heap told the officer that it was what time had left of a temple.

“Tell him to get busy,” whispered Jimmie.  “Can he make a tree three hundred years old in a minute?”

“Where is this mysticism of the East located?” asked the Captain, unable to get the original notion that they were not what they seemed out of his mind.

Again the leader pointed to the ruined temple.

“Come!” he said.

“Now is your chance!” whispered the Captain.

“You are convinced that these are the people who were sent out to defeat the purpose of our mission?” asked Ned.

“Sure,” was the reply.  “These fellows are not priests.  I don’t believe the chap who speaks is even a Chinaman.”

Ned did not hesitate long.  If he was correct in his interpretation of the orders of the Secret Service department, it would be the right thing for him to go with the strange visitors.

If, as he really believed, they had designs on his life or his liberty, no better place or time for the test of cunning and strength could have been selected.  It was early morning, and the highway just beyond the grove was never long vacant of travelers.  Indeed, groups of five or six were constantly in sight.

The travelers were Chinese, of course, and not likely to assist him out of any difficulty into which he might tumble, still the fact that they were there was something.  Even conspirators do not seek audiences for their crimes.

Besides, there were the marines.  Ned understood that they would not be permitted to enter the ruined temple in a body, but he knew that they would be within call.

“What’s your notion?” Ned whispered to the Captain.