“And every move we made under the protection of the Chinese government would be noted and reported,” mused Jack.  “I see how it is!  Guess the people at Washington knew what they were about when they issued instructions regarding the trip to Peking.”

“Yes, I think they did,” Ned replied.  “Observe how they tested us.  We did not know about the cablegram at the office here when we started on our long ride.  If we had weakened in any way we never should have known about it, but would have been ordered back home.”

“Land flowing with milk and honey, and breakfast foods, and choice beef cuts at a dollar a pound!” Jack exclaimed now.  “Are we never going to get anything to eat?”

“I haf one vacancy!” observed Hans, laying a hand on his stomach.  “I haf a misery!”

“You had a good breakfast, Jack!” reproved Frank.

“What!  Where!  What was it?  Yes, I haf a breakfast two days ago.  This morning I haf cellar air for breakfast.  It isn’t nourishing.  Where is there an eatery?”

Before long Ned stopped at a little tea house where an American sign hung in a window, and the boys ordered such viands as the place afforded.  It was not much of a meal, as Jack insisted, but just a teaser for a dinner which would be procured later on.

“Where are the marines?” asked Frank, as he and Ned seated themselves at a little table apart from the others.

“Encamped in the grove,” was the reply.

“They will not be attacked there?” asked Frank, in some amazement.

“Certainly not.  All Chinamen hate us, but we are safe except when the revolutionists take a hand in the game.  The marines are probably surrounded by a crowd of sullen curiosity seekers, but they will not be molested unless the revolutionists decide to take another chance with them.”

“And the machines are gone for good?”

“No, the American consul is getting them back, or was when I left his office, one by one.  The men who were fighting were too frightened to take the machines with them, but the mob got them.  They were taken by individual thieves, and will soon be restored.”

“We ought to have come over in our aeroplane,” smiled Frank.

“That would have defeated our purpose,” Ned replied.  “We are here to catch the leaders of this conspiracy, and the only way we can do it is to wait until they show themselves.

“Just see how foolish they are!” Ned went on.  “If they had been content to wait, to manufacture such evidence as they needed to show their innocence, we could never have located them.  They would have lied us out of countenance if we charged any one man with being the leader, or any one nation with fostering the conspiracy.

“But they tried to make a clean record for themselves by wiping us off the face of the earth and so showed themselves to us.  I am told by police officers that if criminals would keep away from women, away from the scenes of their crimes, and keep their mouths shut when given the famous—­and disgraceful—­third degree, not one in twenty would ever be convicted.”