CHAPTER VII
THE MIDNIGHT CALL OF AN OWL
Ned glanced about keenly as he left his seat on the machine and stoodawaiting further instructions. There was little rain in the air now,but it was still dark except for the faint reflection of a distant groupof lights.
"Where are we?" Ned asked.
"Near Tientsin."
"So soon? Why, I thought we'd be a long time on the way."
"I reckon you don't know how fast we have been traveling," said theofficer. "Fear led me to take risks. I'll admit that."
"I want to look through the city before I leave the country," Nedremarked.
"You are standing now where the allied armies encamped in 1900," theofficer went on. "You doubtless recall the time the allied armies weresent to Peking to rescue the foreign ambassadors during the Boxeruprising? That was an exciting time."
"Hardly," laughed Ned, "although I have read much about that march. Imust have been about eight years old at the time."
"Well here is where the American brigade encamped on the night beforethe start for Peking was made. At that time it was believed that theforeigners at Peking had all been murdered. I was here with the boys inblue."
"Then you ought to know the road to Peking."
"I certainly do."
"What are we halting here for?"
"There is a dispatch from Washington due you here," was the reply.
"Telegrams in China?"
"Certainly. Why, kid, this city has over a million of inhabitants, andthousands of the residents are foreigners. Of course they havetelegraph facilities."
"But how am I to get it to-night?"
To the east lay a great cornfield, to the west a broken common uponwhich were a few houses of the meaner sort. The corn had been cut andwas in the shock. In the houses the lights were out. But far over thepoverty-stricken abodes of the poor shone the reflections of the highlights of the city.
Tientsin is a squalid Oriental city, its native abodes being of thecheapest kind, but the foreign section is well built up and welllighted. These were the reflections, glancing down from a gentle slope,that the boys saw.
The officer pointed to the north, indicating a low-roofed hut halfhidden in the corn shocks.
"We are to remain there," he said, "until you receive your instructionsfrom Washington."
"But why were they not given me before?" demanded Ned.
"Because the man in charge of this matter for the Secret Servicedepartment doubted your ability to make the trip to Tientsin. That isthe truth of it. If you had failed back there at Taku, I should havetaken the message from the office and mailed it, unopened, back toWashington. You have made good, so you get it yourself."
"They never put me to such a test before," grumbled Ned.
The officer turned, gave a short order to his men, and passed hismachine over to one of them.
"I am going into the city with Mr. Nestor," he said; "see that none ofthese youngsters gets away during my absence."
"I'm goin' to get away right now," Jimmie exclaimed. "I'm goin' withNed to the city. I guess I'm not visiting China to live in a cornfield.I want to see the wheels go round!"
The officer glanced at Ned questioningly, while the little fellow made aface back.
"Let him come along," Ned said. "He'll come anyway, whether we give himpermission or not. How far must we walk?"
"Walk?" repeated Jimmie. "I'm goin' to take my motorcycle."
"That may be a good idea," admitted the officer. "I had not thought ofthat."
"We may have to make a run for it, judging from the experiences we hadat Taku," Ned suggested.
"Nothing of the kind here," the other said. "You are as safe in thiscity as you would be in New York, under the same conditions, of course.You know there are sections of New York which strangers do well to keepout of at night."
So, mounting their cycles again, the three set off for the foreignsection of Tientsin. At first the streets were very bad, but in timethey came to smoother running and good time was made.
It was now approaching midnight, but the city, was still awake andstirring. The streets were well filled with pedestrians, and many ofthe small shops were open.
Naturally the three motorcycles, speeding through the streets of theancient city, attracted no little attention. Here and there littlegroups blocked the way for an instant, but on the whole fair progresswas made.
Jimmie, by no means as anxious as were his companions, enjoyed everymoment of the dash. He was thinking of the stories he would have totell when he returned to the Bowery again!
It is quite possible that the way would have been more difficult for theriders only for the uniform of the officer. Foreigners are not givenmuch consideration by the street crowds in China--especially by suchcrowds as enliven the thoroughfares at night--but, since the march ofthe allied armies to Peking, uniforms have been held in great awe.
At last the telegraph office was reached, and Ned was glad to see thatlights still burned within. His night ride would at least prove ofavail. He would receive instructions directly from Washington, and thatwould be more to the purpose than traveling along like a blind mole inthe earth, receiving his information by bits from underlings in theSecret Service.
Besides, the boy was wet and cold, for the night was growing moredisagreeable every moment, and he would now have an opportunity to warmhimself by a blaze such as foreigners ordinarily insist on in the coldmonths in China.
The man at the desk bowed courteously as the three entered the office.He was evidently a native of China but seemed to have profited by aforeign education.
When Ned gave his name and asked for a message, the operator, whoappeared to be the sole employee there, coolly surveyed him criticallyfrom head to foot. Then he turned questioning eyes to the marine.
"It is all right," the officer said. "This is the person brought hereby the flying squadron."
"A boy!" cried the operator. "Only a boy!"
"Aw, cut that out!" cried Jimmie, always ready to resent any seemingdiscourtesy to his chum.
The operator scowled at the little fellow and turned to the officer withthe remark that he should be obliged to consult with his superior.
"All right," was the officer's reply. "Only make haste."
The operator entered a back room and presently returned with a boy whoevidently served as messenger during the daytime. After receivingwhispered instructions, the lad passed out of the office, with a furtiveglance over his shoulder at Jimmie.
Then the operator went back to his desk, while the officer and Ned stoodwaiting. There was no fire in the outer office, but a wave of warm aircame from the rear room.
"We have been riding in the rain," the officer said, seeing that theywere not to be invited into the heated apartment. "May we go back tothe fire?"
The operator scowled, but the uniform won the day, and the three wereushered into a small room where an American oil stove was sending fortha generous heat. Then the grouchy operator slammed the door and lefthis guests to their own reflections.
"Say," Jimmie whispered, in a moment, "I don't believe that chump is onthe level!"
"Well," Ned replied, "he's got to give me the dispatch. He can't getout of doing that."
"Perhaps he knows what the message contains," the officer suggested,"and is not inclined to deliver it."
"I hardly think he knows what it contains," Ned answered, "for it isundoubtedly in cipher."
"And you have the Secret Service code?" asked the officer, amazementshowing on his face.
"Certainly."
"Well, they have a lot of confidence in you, then," said the other.
At the end of half an hour a man said to be the assistant in charge ofthe station entered the room and eyed all three occupants keenly. Hisglances were met frankly by Ned and the officer, but Jimmie could notresist an inclination to wrinkle his nose at him.
"Which is Ned Nestor?" the man asked, addressing the officer.
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br /> The marine pointed toward Ned.
"Do you know him to be Ned Nestor?" was the next question, and Nedthought he felt a hostile spirit in the tone.
"Certainly I do, else I would not be here with him."
"This is important business of state," suggested the other, "and I haveto be cautious."
"Your conduct seems more like curiosity than caution," the officerdeclared. "Have you the message with you?"
"Yes, but I can't deliver it except in the presence of the manager."
"Is it in the code of the Secret Service?" asked Ned.
"It is in some code unknown to me."
"If you don't deliver it in five minutes," declared the officer, "Ishall call the American consul!"
The official made no reply.
"You can read this code, I suppose?" he asked of Ned.
"Certainly."
"Well, I'll communicate with the manager, and if he says it is all rightI'll give you the message and take your receipt for it. Will thatanswer?"
"It must, I suppose," replied the officer.
The obdurate official left the room.
"Gee, but it's close in here!" Jimmie declared, in a moment. "Seemslike a hop joint in Pell street."
"There is opium in the air," the officer said. "See if you can find awindow."
Jimmie found a window opening on a large court and lifted the lowersash. Then he called to Ned.
"I don't like the looks of this," he said. "If they should try to holdus here, what?"
"They won't do that."
"Oh, they won't tie us up, I guess," said the little fellow, "but theymay delay our departure."
"Go on," smiled Ned.
"An' communicate with the ginks that have been chasing us ever since weleft the submarine," concluded the boy.
"In time, Jimmie," Ned answered, "you may even get into the thinkingrow. I have been wondering ever since we came in here if we were notwith enemies instead of friends."
"I can soon find out," declared Jimmie.
"Yes? How, may I ask?"
"I'll rush out into the other room an' try to get to the street. Ifthere's anythin' in the notion we have, they'll turn me back."
"You might try that," smiled Ned, and the officer clapped a hand on theboy's shoulder and declared that he was a "brick."
So Jimmie hustled out into the front office. The listeners heard sharpwords, and then a slight scuffling of feet. Then next instant the boywas pushed back through the doorway.
"What is the trouble?" asked the marine of the assistant, whose flushedface showed in the half-open doorway.
"You'll all have to be identified before you can leave here," was thecurt reply. "You have asked for important state dispatches, and we wantto know what your motive is."
"My motive is to get them," replied Ned, coolly.
"Wait until you prove your right to them," said the other, and the doorwas slammed shut. Ned stepped back to the window and looked out intothe court. The walls were four stories high, and there seemed to be nopassage out of the box-like place. The officer suggested that he forcehis way through the outer office and reach the American consul, but Neddid not approve of this. He thought there must be some other way. Thena hint of that other way came from the court in the call of an owl.
"That's a Boy Scout signal, and not a bird!" almost shouted Jimmie.
Boy Scouts on Motorcycles; Or, With the Flying Squadron Page 7