CHAPTER VII
The Junk with Purple Sails
For perhaps ten minutes Rick, Scotty, and Zircon sat in the rickshawswhile the coolies pulled them through dark streets with no more noisethan the occasional creaking of a wheel or the slapping of bare feet onthe pavement.
There were houses on both sides of the streets, but only now and thendid a light show through the impenetrable darkness. Rick finally sensedthat they were near the water by a feeling of greater space around himrather than by anything he could see. A moment later he heard thelapping of water against a pier.
He was tense with excitement now. The first part of the journey wascoming to an end. In a few minutes they would be hearing Chahda's story.
The rickshaws drew to a stop and the coolies dropped the shafts so theirpassengers could climb out. The coolie who spoke the best English asked,hesitantly, "You pay now, sor? We no wait here, yes?"
"Very well." Zircon paid the boys' fare and his own. "I don't supposethere's any reason to have them wait, since this is our destination.Chahda's friends doubtless will provide a ride for the return journey."
"I don't like this," Scotty whispered. "There's something funny aboutthe whole business. I feel it."
"Where's the junk?" Rick demanded softly. "I can't see a thing."
"We'll wait for a bit," Zircon said quietly. "And we'll be on our guard,just in case Scotty's intuition is right."
They waited quietly, leaning against what seemed to be a warehouse, forwhat felt like five minutes but was probably only two. Then Rick heardthe mutter of voices and the splash of something moving in the water.The sounds were followed by a bumping and scraping against the pier thatjutted into the water.
"Be ready," Zircon commanded in a whisper.
As he said it, a bull's-eye lantern made circles in the night, outliningthe high stern and bow of a junk. The lantern swung upward, revealingthe junk's sails. They were purple.
Zircon led the way down the pier to the junk. "Chahda?" he calledsoftly.
An accented voice answered, "Come aboard." The lantern played on thepier's edge to guide them. Following its light, they jumped from thepier into the litter of rope, boxes, and gear in the middle of theuneven deck. The stench that smote their nostrils was terrible. Probablythe vessel hadn't been cleaned since it was built. Rick coughed from thefoul odor and then raised his voice. "Chahda? Where are you?"
From somewhere the same accented voice replied, "We take you to him. Sitdown and wait."
Rick turned in the direction from which the voice had come. He guessedthat the speaker was in the stern, although it was hard to tell whichwas which. Then he saw a few lights along the shore change position andknew they were moving.
For no reason, he had a sudden impulse to jump back on the pier. He tookScotty's arm. "We're moving!"
"I know it. And I don't like it." Scotty's voice sounded grim.
Zircon, a huge bulk in the darkness, leaned close to them. His usuallybooming voice was barely audible. "Stand back to back, the three of usmaking a triangle. Then feel around on deck and try to find something touse as a club. I agree with Scotty. Something is very fishy here. IfChahda's anywhere within reach, he could have come himself. He wouldn'tjust send someone."
The boys whispered agreement. They turned, so that Rick felt Scotty'sarm on his left side and Zircon's on his right. He stooped and pawedthrough the clutter on the deck. His groping hand found a slender pieceof wood that he rejected at first. Then, when he failed to find anythingelse, he groped around and found it again. At best, it was a poorweapon.
They settled down to wait. The junk was just barely making headway, andas they stood waiting, their vision cleared a little. Or perhaps distantlights on the shore provided faint illumination. Rick could make out twomen poling the junk from the stern.
Far out on the water came the sound of a fast-moving craft of some sort,then a searchlight probed the water briefly. From aft came a mutteredexclamation, then rapid orders in liquid Cantonese.
Scotty's elbow dug into Rick's back. "They're coming," he said tensely.
Dark figures hurtled at the three.
A flying body slammed into Rick, smashing him to the deck. He lost hisstick, but struck out with his fists. He heard Zircon roar like awounded bull.
Rick fought valiantly. Two men were on him, struggling to tie him withlengths of rope. Once he felt the rope pulled across his cheek, leavinga burning sensation. He sensed rather than heard the crashing andshouting around him. Then he wriggled out from under his assailants andstaggered to his feet. Instantly one of the men was upon him again.
"Fall flat!" Zircon bellowed.
Rick did so, on the instant. There was the sound as of a baseball batsmacking a steer and for an instant the deck was miraculously clear.Zircon had found a piece of two-by-four lumber about eight feet long,and he was swinging it like a flail.
The accented voice called, "Drop it or we shoot!"
A figure swung upright next to Rick and threw something. There was agrunt and a crash as the man who had called went down.
"Got him," Scotty said with satisfaction.
A voice rattled orders in Cantonese. The polers from the stern advanced,their long poles held out like lances. Zircon was their target.
Scotty whispered, "Let 'em get close. You take the left and I'll takethe right. Go under the poles."
For a heartbeat there was quiet. Rick divined the strategy. The polemenwould lunge at Zircon, then the rest would leap. He didn't know how manythere were of the enemy. He thought there must be at least seven. Heflattened out, eyes on the left poleman, ready to spring. The poles camenearer, one was over him.
"Now," Scotty hissed.
Rick went forward, scrambling, legs driving. It was football, buteasier. His shoulder caught the poleman in the stomach, and he lifted.The man went flying. Next to him he heard a dull thud, then he sawScotty stand up, looming large in the darkness.
But the rest of the crew had charged. For a moment Zircon's lumberwreaked havoc, then he struck a part of the junk and the two-by-foursplintered. He let out a yell of rage and flung himself on the nearestman, lifted him bodily and threw him at the others.
Yellow light pierced the darkness from the direction of the shore. Avoice screamed, "Yanks! Over the side! Swim here!"
"Get going," Zircon howled. "I'll cover you!"
Rick took heart. He ran to the side and jumped feet first. Scotty camewithin a hair of landing on top of him. From overhead came cries ofrage, then another bellow from Zircon. In the next instant the scientistplunged into the water with them.
"Swim for it," he commanded. He rose high out of the water and yelled,"Out with those lights!"
The automobile lights that had illumined the scene blinked out. Thevoice called back, "Hurry! The junk is putting about!"
Rick was swimming at his best speed, head down in a powerful crawl, buthe took time to look back over his shoulder. The junk was turning! Heknew with despair that it could run them down easily. The shore was along distance away. "Spread out," he called. "Then they can't get all ofus." He put his head down and cut through the water like a fish. If onlythere were time to undress! But he didn't dare pause even long enough tountie his shoes.
The swim was a nightmare. Every few moments the auto lights blinkedbriefly as their unknown friend gave them a course to steer by. Ricklooked back once and the junk had straightened out and was gaining onthem. He redoubled his efforts. Scotty was even with him, but Zircon waspulling ahead.
He heard voices close behind and cast a glance back. The junk with thepurple sails was perilously close. He drew new strength from somewhereand forged ahead.
The swimmers had closed the distance rapidly. The next time the lightsblinked Rick could make out two figures standing next to the car. Hecould hear the creaking of gear on the junk and the grunts of thepolemen, and the sounds were close! He lifted his voice in a cry forhelp. "They're on top of us!"
The car lights blinked on, and held the junk in th
eir glare. A gun firedonce from the shore. Rick saw the orange spurt. Then he heard a cry fromalmost overhead and the junk veered sharply.
"Angle right," Scotty called, and Rick saw that they were almost at thetip of the pier. He put on a last spurt, caught a pile, and pulledhimself up by its lashings. In a moment all three of them were runningdown the pier toward the waiting car.
The lights came on and a British voice called, "In the car. Hurry!"
"It's the bank clerk!" Scotty gasped.
It was. Ronald Keaton-Yeats ran to meet them. "Do hurry!" he exclaimed."We think someone from this end has gone for reinforcements for yourfriends yonder." The three followed him to the car, a touring sedan ofBritish make. Rick sensed that someone was behind him and started toturn, but a soft voice whispered in his ear.
"Keep looking ahead. Get to your hotel and wait there for a phone call."
They piled into the car, wet clothes and all. Keaton-Yeats ran around tothe driver's seat, then stopped. "I say! Where did that other chap goto?"
"What other?" Zircon asked.
"A Eurasian. He's the one who led me here, and who fired that shot.Dashed uncivilized, but I guess it saved your bacon, rather. No matter.He's vanished and that's an end to it." The young Englishman had beenpeering into the shadows. "We'll hie on our merry way and leave him tohis own devices."
Rick started to mention the message that had been whispered in his ear,then decided not to, although he couldn't have explained why.
The car roared into life. Keaton-Yeats spun the wheel and they raced upthe street, the buildings magnifying the sound of their passing intothunder. Not until they were on the main street was there quiet enoughfor conversation, then Zircon demanded, "Would you mind giving us anexplanation? Naturally, we're interested."
"Rather!" Keaton-Yeats said. "I met Brant and Scott this afternoon whenthey inquired from me the way to a Golden Mouse. I'd never heard of thecreature, as I told them, and they rejected my offer of some other sortof animal. Haw! But after they had gone, I made inquiries. I learnedthat this Golden Mouse was a dive of the most unsavory character."
He steered around a group of rickshaws and Rick clutched the back of thefront seat. He was having a fine case of jitters, because the Englishmanwas driving on what appeared to Rick to be the wrong side of the road.Even when he realized that left-hand driving was the rule in Hong Kong,dodging cars on the wrong side left him rattled!
"I worried a bit," Keaton-Yeats went on. "Even made a phone call or two.Discovered Brant and Scott were registered at the Peninsular Hotel. Butby the time I phoned there, they had gone out. Having no engagements, Idecided to look up this Golden Mouse place and at least add another soulto the party for safety's sake, so to speak. However, I never got in,for just as I turned into the proper alley, after a bit of searching,this Eurasian chap jumped on my running board. He asked did I care tohelp out three Americans who were in trouble. I assured him that itwould be a pleasure, but I was already committed to two Americans, in amanner of speaking. He demanded names. I gave him the two I knew. Hesaid you were mixed up in this affair in which he was taking a hand. Itold him to get aboard and he did so. We tore around odd streets forsome time. My nose is insulted from the things I've smelled tonight, Iassure you. We were about to throw in our cards, then, as luck wouldhave it, we spotted three rickshaw coolies, and blessed if they didn'tturn out to be yours. We sped down that Blind Fisherman Street just intime to hear the most infernal commotion out in the bay. The rest youknow."
There was no adequate way of thanking Keaton-Yeats. Without his kindlyinterest in two strangers, they would doubtless have lost their lives.But when they told him as much, he laughed it off.
"Oh, I'm sure that's overdoing it a bit. What that crew was probablyafter was a bit of ransom. Pirates are still something of a problemaround here, you know. We've had regular ocean-going craft picked off bythem and held. I've enjoyed it immensely, and if thanks are due, I'llgive them to you. Life was getting to be a bit of a bore."
And that settled it, so far as Keaton-Yeats was concerned. He drove themto the Kowloon ferry, but suggested that they take a walla-walla in viewof their disreputable appearance. As they shook hands all around, hesaid, "Oddest thing. To me, the most curious business was that chap whowatched us. Not the Eurasian. Another one. It was because of him that wesuspected new recruits for our pirate friends were on the way."
"What did he look like?" Rick asked.
"Can't say. We never did see his face. Or any of him, for that matter.Somewhere up the alley was an open door, and he was standing in it,against the light. At least I believe that was the case, for all we sawwas his shadow. A most unusual shadow, at that. It was so long and thinthat it looked like a pole with a head and limbs. Our Eurasian friendwas a bit disturbed by it, too, for he mumbled something about blowingthe creature's head off if he stepped out of his doorway."
"But you didn't see anything except the shadow?" Scotty asked.
"Not a blessed thing. There was just that form, outlined in light,stretching clear across the alley. It was uncanny, because to cast ashadow such as that the bloke must have been ten feet high and nothicker than a pencil!"
They had found the Golden Mouse. Now another bit of Chahda's cable hadcome to life. Rick's lips formed the words.
"Long Shadow!"
The Caves of Fear: A Rick Brant Science-Adventure Story Page 7