“From Washington?” asked Ned.

The visitor nodded; glanced sharply about the apartment, where the motorcycles were still lying, and then squatted on one of the burlap bags.  Jimmie shook his fist behind the newcomer’s back.  It was evident that the boy did not like his appearance.

“I am Lieutenant Rae, of the Secret Service,” he said, in a moment.  “I have been delayed on my way here.  You were about to start on without your final instructions?” he asked, lifting a pair of eyebrows which seemed to make his little black eyes smaller and more inscrutable than ever.

Ned looked at the man, now lolling back on the burlap, and for a moment made no reply.  Then he lied deliberately—­in the interest of Uncle Sam and human life, as he afterwards explained!

“No,” he said, “we were merely overhauling the machines.  We are in no haste to be away.”

“I see,” grinned the other.  “You are taking life easily?  Well, that is not so bad.  However, you are to start on your journey early to-morrow morning.”

“I shall be ready,” Ned replied.  “You have just landed?”

For just a second Lieutenant Rae’s eyes sought the ground, then he lifted them boldly.  Ned was watching his every movement.

“No,” he said, then, “I came in three days ago, but I was obliged to await the movements of others before reporting to you.”

Jimmie caught Frank by the arm and drew him out of the house.  Out in the deserted garden—­which was only a yard or two of hard-packed earth—­ he whispered: 

“That feller’s a liar!”

“What makes you think so?” Frank asked.

“He’s no Englishman,” Jimmie insisted.  “He’s a Jap.  You bet your last round iron man that’s the truth.  Now, what do you think he’s doin’ here?”

“Well,” Frank replied, “I think you are right.  He’s not an Englishman.  The nerve of him to put that up to us!”

“Perhaps he’s the gazabo that monkeyed with our machines,” suggested Jimmie.  “Wish I’d ‘a’ caught him at it!”

“But Ned says that was an European,” Frank said.

“Then they’re thick around us,” Jimmie went on, “and we’re up to our necks in trouble.  I wonder what instructions this Rae person will give Ned?”

“Suppose we go inside and see,” Frank answered.

When the lads reached the interior of the house again Ned and Rae were bending over a road map of the country between Taku and Peking.  The visitor was indicating a route with his pencil.

“Very well,” Ned said, as if fully convinced of the honesty of the other, “now about the private orders.  You understand, of course, that I know little concerning the work cut out for me.”

“You are to receive final instructions at Peking.”

Ned smiled, but there was something about the smile which told the boys that he was of their way of thinking.

“He’s on!” Jimmie whispered in Frank’s ear.