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Under the Chinese Dragon: A Tale of Mongolia

by F. S. Brereton · English · Gutenberg #41758 · 543,096 chars · public domain (US)

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Title: Under the Chinese Dragon: A Tale of Mongolia

Author: F. S. Brereton

Illustrator: Charles Mills Sheldon


        
Release date: January 2, 2013 [eBook #41758]
                Most recently updated: October 23, 2024

Language: English

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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK UNDER THE CHINESE DRAGON: A TALE OF MONGOLIA ***

                          Under the Chinese Dragon

                             A Tale of Mongolia

                          BY CAPTAIN F. S. BRERETON

Author of "The Hero of Panama" "Tom Stapleton, the Boy Scout" "The Great
Aeroplane" "Indian and Scout" &c.


    _ILLUSTRATED BY CHARLES M. SHELDON_

    BLACKIE AND SON LIMITED
    LONDON GLASGOW AND BOMBAY

    1912




[Illustration: "THE BRUTE SPRANG FULL AT DAVID"]




Contents


    Chap.                                           Page

        I. EBENEZER SPEAKS HIS MIND                    9

       II. THE ROAD TO LONDON                         28

      III. WANTED A JOB                               47

       IV. A RESPONSIBLE POSITION                     66

        V. LONDON'S ALIEN CRIMINALS                   84

       VI. THE PROFESSOR MAKES A SUGGESTION          101

      VII. AT SEA ON A CHINESE JUNK                  121

     VIII. IN A TIGHT CORNER                         138

       IX. A GAME OF LONG BOWLS                      157

        X. EBENEZER CLAYHILL'S INSPIRATION           176

       XI. DAVID GOES ON A JOURNEY                   194

      XII. CHANG ANNOUNCES HIS ERRAND                211

     XIII. IN A CHINESE PRISON                       230

      XIV. TSU-HI IS ASTONISHED                      247

       XV. DICK AND DAVID TURN THE TABLES            265

      XVI. FREEDOM AGAIN                             282

     XVII. A CHAPTER OF ADVENTURES                   299

    XVIII. TERRORS OF THE MONGOLIAN DESERT           317

      XIX. A FIGHT TO A FINISH                       336

       XX. THE SECRET OF THE RUINS                   352




Illustrations


                                                         Page

    "THE BRUTE SPRANG FULL AT DAVID"     _Frontispiece_   316

    BURGLARS AT THE STORE                                  82

    "A FLAME SUDDENLY ILLUMINATED THE 'TWEEN DECKS"       130

    "A ROAR OF APPLAUSE GREETED THE FIFTH SHOT"           172

    "IN A SECOND DAVID WAS ON HIM"                        252

    STORMING THE BARRICADE                                346




UNDER THE CHINESE DRAGON




CHAPTER I

Ebenezer speaks his Mind


Mr. Ebenezer Clayhill was a man who impressed his personality upon one,
so that those who had once obtained but a passing glimpse of him could
not fail but recognise him, however long afterwards.

'Fust it's his nose what strikes yer,' had declared old Isaac Webster,
when ensconced with his bosom friends of an evening down in the snug
parlour of the 'Three Pigeons.' 'It's just the most almighty one as ever
I seed, and I've seed a power of noses, I have, Mr. Jarney.'

He sniffed and looked across at that individual, as if he challenged him
to disprove the statement, or even to doubt it; for Jarney was a
cross-grained fellow, an old weather-beaten boatman, into whose
composition quite a considerable quantity of salt seemed to have been
absorbed. The man was short in stature and in manner. There was an
acidity about his voice which made him the reverse of popular, though
when he held forth in the cosy parlour of the public-house there were
few who failed to listen; for Jarney had travelled. Unlike Isaac
Webster, he had not been a stay-at-home all his days, but had seen
things and people which were strange for the most part to the old
cronies who gathered together of an evening. No one dare dispute
Jarney's statements, for to do so was to lay oneself open to a course of
scathing, biting sarcasm, in which Jarney excelled.

Isaac coughed, finding that Jarney had failed to answer. 'I've seed a
power of noses, I have, Mr. Jarney,' he repeated in his most solemn
tones.

The boatman, comfortably quartered in a huge arm-chair in the centre of
the circle about the blazing fire, twisted his eyes round till they were
fixed on the speaker. He pulled the short clay which he was smoking out
of his mouth with a hand bearing many a tar stain, and contemplated it
with much interest. His lips curled back in what was meant to be a
derisive smile, then back went the pipe between his toothless gums.

'You've seed a sight of noses, you have, Mr. Webster,' he growled.
'Well, so has we all. There's noses all round us most of the day. I
could yarn to yer about a nigger man 'way out in the Caroline Islands
who'd a nose that you couldn't pass in a day's walk, it war that big and
attractive. But you was talkin' of this here Ebenezer Clayhill.'

'Him as ain't long come to these parts,' interposed another of the men
gathered about the fire. 'Him as you're acting gardener to, Mr.
Webster.'

'Or rather, him as has gone and married the lady as you've been gardener
to this three years past,' ventured a third. 'Mrs. Harbor that was; now
Mrs. Ebenezer Clayhill.'

Webster nodded at the circle. It was true enough that he was gardener at
'The Haven,' the house occupied by Mrs. Clayhill, and it was also true
enough that that lady had recently married; for but a few months before
she had been known as Mrs. Harbor. The folks at Effington, a little
fishing hamlet along the Hampshire coast, were sufficiently acquainted
with the lady already; for in a small place there is not much news, and
what there is quickly becomes common property. But Mr. Clayhill was a
recent importation, of whom the villagers were as yet almost ignorant,
so that Isaac Webster, who, naturally enough, had better opportunities
of knowing him than the others at Effington, had been called upon to
give his opinion on his new master.

'Well, as I was sayin', when I was interrupted,' Isaac began again,
glaring across at the old salt lounging in his chair, 'I was sayin' that
the fust thing you notice is his nose, it's that big and red. I'd swear
to it in a court of law without a quiver. Then there's his eyes; ain't
they sharp, just! For the rest of him, I don't know as there's much to
say. He seems a pleasant-spoken gentleman, though I ain't so sure as he
don't want already to cut down wages.'

The announcement, short as it was, provided food for conversation for
the rest of that evening, and we may be sure that Mr. Ebenezer was as
frankly and as completely discussed in the parlour of the 'Three
Pigeons' as he had ever been in his life before. But we were saying that
he was a man who impressed his personality upon every one, and Isaac
was not by any means wrong when he stated that Ebenezer's nose was the
chief characteristic. It arrested one's attention at the first instant,
till one realised that further scrutiny would be a rudeness, and
promptly fixed one's gaze on some other part of his person. Elsewhere
there was not much that was favourable; for the gentleman who had so
recently married Mrs. Harbor was some fifty years of age, and had a
decidedly shifty air. His eyes were placed closer together than is
customary, while his jowly cheeks, his pendulous eyelids, and the lines
and seams about his face seemed all to accentuate the immediate
impression of distrust which he inspired. For the rest, he was
moderately tall, stout and broad-shouldered, and very bald.

Three months after his marriage, when he had settled down at 'The
Haven,' Mr. Ebenezer Clayhill was engaged one day within his study. The
morning post had brought him a number of bulky documents, and these lay
spread out before him. One in particular seemed to occupy his attention,
for he perused its contents for the third time at least, and sat
regarding the lines thoughtfully. Slowly, as he took in the meaning of
the document, his fat hands came together and he rubbed them over one
another, as if he were particularly pleased. His small pig-like eyes lit
up ever so little, while the lines across forehead and face smoothed
themselves out a trifle.

     'We have pleasure in informing you that this matter is now
     satisfactorily concluded,' he read, again beginning to go through
     the document. 'As we have advised you from time to time the
     question of Mr. Harbor's fate was one for the courts to deal with,
     and delay was inevitable. But we are now able to report that the
     Judge in chambers gave us leave to presume Mr. Harbor's death, on
     the evidence provided, and which, we may say, seemed to us to be
     absolutely conclusive. This being so, there is now no reason why
     Mrs. Harbor, as the executrix of the will of the late Mr. Harbor,
     should not at once proceed to obtain probate on it. For this
     purpose we shall hold ourselves at your disposal, and beg to
     remain.--Faithfully yours,

     JONES & JONES,

     _Solicitors_.

     _P.S._--We are in error in saying that Mrs. Harbor as executrix,
     etc. Of course, it should have been Mrs. Ebenezer Clayhill. We beg
     to apologise.'

The reader may wonder why such a short and apparently unimportant letter
should occupy Mr. Ebenezer so greatly, and we hasten at once to supply
that necessary information which will enable him to understand matters
completely. After all, with every fact before him, the reader can hardly
fail to comprehend Ebenezer's pleasure, for the letter before him
practically relieved him of all further worry as to the wants of this
life. A needy fellow till three months ago, Ebenezer, with that
communication before him, felt that he had no longer any need to scheme,
no cause to lay crafty plans and carry them out with much guile and
cunning; for his wife would benefit under the will mentioned, and with
her, as a natural consequence, Ebenezer himself.

But still Mr. Clayhill was not quite satisfied in his own mind as to
this fortune upon which he could now almost put his hand; and for some
three hours he paced his study, occupying himself sometimes in a
listless, harassed manner with the documents on the table, while he
awaited the coming of a member of the firm of solicitors who had written
to him.

'Shan't feel quite sure till I've had a talk with this fellow,' he told
himself, screwing his eyes up, while a deep line grooved his brow, which
added not at all to his attractiveness. Indeed, at such moments Ebenezer
looked more like a malefactor than a peaceful country gentleman. 'Shan't
feel comfortable or safe till I've had a chat, and not then till the
money is in the bank. Ah, there's David. A hulking big lout to be sure!
Seems to me the time has arrived when he should do something for his
living.'

The ugly frown was accentuated as Mr. Ebenezer looked out of his window.
The latter faced the wide, gravelled drive of 'The Haven,' and gave an
uninterrupted view down it as far as the gate, and beyond to the edge of
the village. And following his gaze one saw a lad mounted on a fine
horse, riding towards the house. He was some fifty yards distant, so
that a clear view of him was to be obtained, and though Ebenezer had
ventured to term the youth hulking, there were few who would have agreed
with him; for David Harbor was slim, if anything, and, as well as it is
possible to judge of a youth when mounted, of a good height. One thing
was very certain; he sat his horse splendidly, as if accustomed to the
saddle, and though the animal was without doubt spirited, as he proved
now that he was on the gravelled drive by curvetting and prancing, David
managed him with hand and knee and voice as only an accomplished
horseman can do. For the rest, the youth seemed to be some eighteen
years of age, was decidedly fair, and by no means ill-looking. Even as
Ebenezer regarded him with a scowl David wore a sunny smile, unconscious
of the unfriendly eyes that were scrutinising him. But a second later he
caught a view of Mr. Ebenezer, and at once the young face became serious
and thoughtful, while David returned the scrutiny with an honest glance
that caused the other to turn hastily away.

'A hulking lout is what I call him, and Sarah agrees,' muttered
Ebenezer. 'That is a comfort. When I married her I had fears that this
stepson of hers might create trouble between us. But I was wrong; Sarah
thinks as little of him as I do. We'll soon send him about his business;
then there'll be no riding of fine horses, or idling the hours away if I
know it. David shall work for his living, as I had to. He shall learn
what it is to be pinched, and then, if he does not behave himself, he'll
be thrown completely on his own resources. What luck that old Harbor
left things as he did!'

'Looks as if he'd like to eat me,' was the remark David made to himself
as he rode round to the stables. 'I've seen a row coming these past two
weeks since he and mother came back home. He doesn't like me any better
than--but there, I'll not say it. Only I've a feeling that I'm not
wanted here. I'm in the way; I'm expensive. My living costs money;
that's what I'm being rapidly made to feel.'

He slid from his saddle, unbuckled the girths, and having placed it on a
wooden horse outside the harness room, led the beast into the stable.
Within five minutes of his disappearance there a cab drove up to the
door, and Mr. Edwin Jones, the solicitor, was announced. At once he was
ushered into Mr. Ebenezer's room, and was presently seated in an
arm-chair. From that point of vantage he surreptitiously scrutinised Mr.
Ebenezer.

'Queer old boy,' he told himself. 'Lor', what a nose! And I don't like
his looks altogether. But then, he's a client; that's sufficient for me.
Ahem!'

Mr. Ebenezer picked up the letter which had attracted so much of his
attention.

'I wanted to ask some questions,' he said. 'There is now, I presume, no
further doubt as to this matter. Mrs. Clayhill is entitled to proceed
with the will left in your possession by Mr. Harbor?'

'Ahem! that is so,' admitted the solicitor. 'As mentioned in our letter,
and carrying out your instructions, we applied to the courts, and the
judge before whom the matter came has gone into the evidence fully, and
has given leave to presume Mr. Harbor's death. That being so, the way is
clear to prove the will and obtain probate. There can be no hitch,
unless, of course, ahem!--unless another later will is forthcoming.'

'Quite so, quite so,' exclaimed Mr. Ebenezer, hurriedly, 'But there is
no other will. Mr. Harbor left England three years ago for China. You
are aware that he was fond of unearthing old matters dealing with
buildings and _objets d'art_. He was attacked by Boxers and killed. He
executed this will two years previously, on his marriage to Mrs.
Clayhill, and, undoubtedly, he saw no reason to alter it.'

'Of course not, of course not,' came from the solicitor. 'Only, there is
the son. This will leaves a small sum for his maintenance and schooling
up to the age of twenty-one. Afterwards he comes in for two thousand
pounds. Not much, Mr. Clayhill, for an only child, when the estate is so
large, roughly eighty thousand pounds.'

The gentleman who was seated in the arm-chair coughed deprecatingly, and
glanced swiftly across at Mr. Ebenezer. He did not like the ugly frown
which showed on his client's face, as he surveyed him.

'Glad I'm not David,' he told himself. 'And from what I have learned I
can't help feeling that Mr. Harbor must have executed a later will. But
there you are; it is not to be found. We have no information about it,
while our late client is undoubtedly dead, killed out in China. It's bad
luck for David; I like the boy.'

'Perhaps,' he said, a moment later, 'you will obtain Mrs. Clayhill's
signatures to these documents, when we can at once set about proving the
will. As I am nominated as co-executor with Mrs. Clayhill, I can
complete them when I return to the office. I shall of course leave the
payment of David's allowance to Mrs. Clayhill.'

Mr. Ebenezer beamed when at length his visitor had gone. He rubbed his
hands together craftily, and then blew his enormous nose violently.

'Well, Sarah, what do you think of that?' he asked, looking across at
Mrs. Clayhill, who had joined him in his room. 'The matter is
practically finished. The will is to be proved in the course of a few
weeks, and then we can settle down. There will be no questions to ask,
and none to answer.'

'And so far as I am concerned, no answers forthcoming,' replied his
wife. 'After all, it is true that Edward wrote to me from China just
before his death, saying that he was settling his affairs again, in
other words that he was making a new will. But what is the good of
mentioning that? If he did as he intimated, no new will has been found.
Besides, I have reason to know that any alteration would not have been
to my benefit. Edward had of late been a worry to me.'

At the back of her mind Mrs. Clayhill remembered how she had come to
marry Edward Harbor. He was then forty years of age, and possessed of
one boy, David. His wife had died some years before, and there was no
doubt that Edward in selecting his second wife had chosen one whom he
imagined would willingly travel with him. But, after a year or more of
life in England, Mrs. Clayhill had resolutely refused to stir a foot out
of the country. Edward, to his great sorrow, had to go alone, leaving
David in his wife's charge. Moreover, there was little doubt but that
once her husband was out of sight, Mrs. Clayhill had endeavoured to
forget him, and that with some success, so that Edward received only the
most fragmentary letters, with long intervals between. Taking all the
circumstances into consideration, it was but natural that Edward Harbor,
smarting under the treatment meeted out to him by a wife, to whom at the
time of their marriage he had willed almost all his possessions, should
have made drastic alterations. Let us say at once that he had made a new
will, only the latter, owing to his untimely death, had never reached
the hands of his solicitors. Nor was there any record of it in China.
Mrs. Clayhill, it seemed, was the only one who knew that a change had
been made, and she had craftily not uttered a word on the subject. So it
happened that David was to be robbed of his father's possessions, while
his stepmother, who had disliked the lad from the beginning, with Mr.
Clayhill, the husband she had acquired after the death of Mr. Harbor,
were to come in for all the money, knowing all the while that, though
such a step was legal, it did not represent Edward Harbor's wishes.

'And the boy--what of him?' asked Mrs. Clayhill tartly.

Ebenezer grinned; matters were going splendidly for him. 'Oh, David,' he
said. 'He's got to learn what it is to work; I'll send him up to a city
firm. No more idling or riding blood horses for him, my dear.'

It was a heartless arrangement, and one is bound to admit, from the
acquaintance we have already of Mr. Ebenezer, it was to be expected of
him. As for Mrs. Clayhill, though boasting some attractions, she was
not, as the reader will have guessed, a fascinating woman. Where David
was concerned she could be a dragon, and we are stating but the truth
when we say that, for the past three years, the lad had been glad to
return to school to escape from a home which was that only in name to
him.

'Ah, there he is,' suddenly exclaimed Mr. Ebenezer, as a heavy foot was
heard in the hall, while, within a second, the door of the room was
flung unceremoniously open, and David entered.

'Helloo!' he cried, cheerily. 'I'm after a book. Disturbed you, eh?
Sorry.'

He turned on his heel, and prepared to leave, for he could see that the
two who were now responsible for him were discussing some matter.
'Having another jaw,' he told himself. 'That's what they're always after
now-a-days. Something to do with money, I suppose. Or it's me; shouldn't
wonder. They ain't over fond of David Harbor.'

It was not his fault that he did not speak or think more respectfully of
his parents. After all, though only related to him by the accident of
marriage, they were his lawful guardians, and had they been kind, David
would have been only too glad to behave as a son to them. Goodness knew,
the lad sometimes ached for a happy home.

'David!' The word came in peremptory tones from Ebenezer. He perched
himself in the centre of the hearth rug and blew his nose violently.
Mrs. Clayhill sank languidly back in her chair, and regarded her stepson
as if he bored her greatly. 'Come back, David.'

'Well? What is it?' David swung into the room again, and stood holding
to the handle of the door.

'Shut the door. Now, I want to speak to you. You're eighteen?'

'No, seventeen and five months. They tell me I look eighteen.'

'Humph! In any case you're old enough to understand. You realise, of
course, that I cannot be responsible for your upkeep.'

David staggered. He knew very little of monetary matters, but had always
understood that his father was a rich man and had made ample provision
for his family. 'I don't understand,' he replied.

'Let me put it plainly. Your father is dead; he has left a small sum
with which to defray your expenses. That must be sufficient; you must
now fend for yourself.'

'But,' gasped David, hardly able to gather the drift of the
conversation, 'he has left a great deal more than that for the upkeep of
the family. I am one of the family.'

'True,' admitted Ebenezer, ruefully, 'you are one of the family, but
that does not give you leave to enjoy yourself and be idle. Your father
specified only a sum for your expenses. The remainder of his possessions
are left to your stepmother to do with as she likes. She does not intend
that you should stay here longer and have a good time. You are to work
for your living. You are to go to an office in London, where your
success will depend on yourself entirely.'

'But--.' David was thunderstruck. He had no intention of idling. As a
matter of fact he hoped soon to enter an engineering school, where
there would be plenty of work for a keen young fellow. What staggered
him most was Ebenezer's iciness and his statements with regard to the
possessions left by Edward Harbor. 'But,' he gasped again, 'there is
surely some error. I don't count on money left me by father. I will work
for my living, and show that I can earn it the same as others. But he
made a will in China. He wrote to me about it. Everything was left to
me, with a handsome allowance to mother.'

The words came as a shock to the two conspiring to do our hero out of
his patrimony. Till that moment Mrs. Clayhill had imagined that she was
the only person to whom Edward Harbor had written. But she forgot David,
or put him out of her calculations because of his youth; whereas, as a
matter of fact, Edward had been more than open with his son.

'It is no use mincing matters, boy,' he had written. 'Money is more or
less useless to me, for I love the wilds, the parts forsaken by man
these many centuries. Still, I have, by the chance of birth, large
possessions to dispose of, and in the ordinary course they would go, in
great part, to your stepmother. But you are old enough to understand
matters. We cannot agree. She will not bear exile even for a few months,
for my sake, and, to make short work of an unpleasant matter, I fear I
must admit that I was mistaken in marrying her. As it is, I have
reconsidered my affairs, and have recently remade my will. At the first
opportunity I shall hand it into safe keeping. But here it must rest
till I go down country. Needless to say, I have arranged that my
property shall descend to you, with certain payments for your
stepmother.'

'But--gracious me! Hear him!' cried Mrs. Clayhill, in a high falsetto.

'That is a lie,' declared Ebenezer, flatly, his eyes narrow, his brow
furrowed, a particularly unpleasant look on his face. David flushed to
the roots of his hair. He had never been called a liar, save once, by a
boy bigger than himself, and him he had soundly thrashed. He stepped
forward a pace, while his eyes flashed. Then he pulled himself together,
and closed his lips firmly. A second later he was holding to the handle
of the door again.

'It is the truth,' he said, firmly. 'I have the letter to prove it. He
wrote telling me that he was sending the same information to my
stepmother.'

This was a bomb in the heart of the enemy's camp with a vengeance. Mrs.
Clayhill's face flushed furiously; she appeared to be on the verge of an
attack of violent hysteria. Ebenezer, on the contrary, became as white
as his own handkerchief. He glowered on David, and stuttered as he
attempted to speak. It was, in fact, a very sordid affair altogether.

'David! How can you?' came from Mrs. Clayhill. 'I never had a letter.
Your father made no change in his depositions.'

'In fact,' declared Ebenezer, bringing his hands together, and
endeavouring to display an air of placidity, 'he left but one will, and
that in favour of your stepmother. His death has been presumed by the
courts, and now the will I speak of shall be administered. You are a
pauper, more or less. You are dependent on a small allowance, payable by
us, and on your own wits. You will employ the latter from this moment. I
have accepted a post for you in a shipping office. You will live in
rooms in London, and your hours of work will extend from eight-thirty in
the morning to six at night. You begin immediately.'

To say that David was flabbergasted was to express his condition mildly.
It had been his intention from an early age to become an engineer, and
his father had encouraged his ambition. Suddenly he suspected that this
work in London was only a plot to get him out of the way, and that his
stepmother had received the letter of which he had spoken. It angered
him to have his future ordered by a man almost a stranger to him, and
one, moreover, who had taken no pains to hide his ill-feeling. Besides,
David was proud and quick-tempered.

'I'll do nothing of the sort,' he exclaimed quickly.

'You disobey me, then?' demanded Ebenezer angrily.

'I decline to go into an office.'

'Then you leave the house to-morrow. Your allowance shall be paid to you
regularly. You can fend for yourself.'

For a moment the two conspirators glared at David, while the latter held
to the door. Even now he was loth to think evil of his stepmother,
though there had never been any affection between them; for Mrs.
Clayhill was essentially a worldly woman. Had she not been so she could
not have sat there and seen this youth cheated of rights which she knew
were his. She could not have allowed her second husband to proceed with
the proving of a will which she knew thoroughly well did not represent
her late husband's wishes. But she was a grasping woman, and had long
since determined to oust David. Also she had in Ebenezer a cold-hearted
scoundrel who backed her up completely.

'You will do as you are ordered or forfeit everything,' she cried, in
shrill tones, that were a little frightened.

'Which means that you are not wanted very particularly here, and had
better go,' added Ebenezer sourly. 'Take this post or leave it. It makes
little difference to me; but idle and enjoy yourself here any longer,
you shall not.'

David took in a deep breath; the situation was only beginning to dawn
upon him. It was the climax that he had more than half expected, but
which, boy-like, he had put out of mind. But here it was, naked and
extremely sordid. He was not wanted; these people had no interest in
Edward Harbor or in his son. In fact, that son stood in their way. Money
was the cause of all the trouble. The two before him were conspiring to
rob him, David, of the possessions intended for him by his father.
Straightway David formed a resolution.

'You wish me to leave,' he said, as quietly as he could. 'I will go at
once. You tell me that I am a pauper. Very well, I will work for myself;
but I give you notice. I will search this matter out; it is not yet
absolutely proved that father was killed. He might have been made a
prisoner; his death has only been presumed. But I will make sure of it
one way or the other. I will hunt for that will of which he wrote to me
and to my stepmother. And when I find him or it I will return; till
then, remember that I ask no help from either of you. I will fend for
myself.'

He turned on his heel, closing the door noiselessly after him. Promptly
he went to his room, packed his few valuables and a spare suit in a
valise, not forgetting underclothing. Then he crossed to the stables and
emerged a few moments later with his bicycle. A somewhat scared couple
of conspirators watched him, as he pedalled down the drive and out
through the gate.

'Pooh! Let him go. A good riddance!' blustered Ebenezer, blowing his
nose.

'I'm afraid of him; he was always like that,' exclaimed Mrs. Clayhill
tearfully. 'David is a most determined boy; he will search this matter
to the bottom.'

'Which happens to be particularly deep,' ventured her husband. 'Come,
Sarah, threatened people live long. Before he is anywhere near China we
shall have the will proved, and the money will be ours. We can afford to
laugh at the young idiot.'

They saw David swing out into the road and disappear past the village.
From that moment for many a week, he was a dead letter to them. But
distance did not help them. The fact that they were committing a wrong
preyed on the newly wedded couple. In the course of a little while the
memory of David had become to Ebenezer and his wife even more trying
than his actual presence. The proving of the will, the free use of the
money could not end the matter. Conscience spoke sternly and unceasingly
to Mr. and Mrs. Clayhill.




CHAPTER II

The Road to London


It was approaching evening as David Harbor swung out of the drive gates
of 'The Haven,' and turned his back upon the inhospitable house and the
stepmother who had behaved so disgracefully to him. His head high, a
queer sinking at the heart, but his courage undaunted for all that, he
pedalled swiftly through the village of Effington, nodded to the sour
old salt Jarney, who, by the way, always had a smile for David, sped
past the 'Three Pigeons' public-house, where the local tittle-tattle of
the place was dispensed, together with ale, and was soon out in the open
country.

'Time to sit down and think a little,' he said to himself, resting on
his pedals and allowing his machine to glide along down the incline till
it came of its own accord to a rest. 'Now, we'll sit down here and think
things out, and have a look into this affair. I must consider ways and
means.'

He was a practical young fellow, was David Harbor, and already the
seriousness of the move he had made was weighing upon him. Not that he
was inclined to hesitate or to go back, not that at all, only the future
was so clouded. His movements were so uncertain; the absence of some
definite plan or course of procedure was so embarrassing.

'Three pounds, thirteen shillings and fourpence halfpenny,' he said,
emptying his purse, and counting out the money as he sat on a roadside
boulder. 'Riches a month ago when I was at school, poverty under these
circumstances, unless--unless I can get some work and so earn money.
That's what I said I'd do and do it I will. Where? Ah, London!'

Like many before him, his eyes and thoughts at once swept in the
direction of the huge metropolis, at once the golden magnet which
attracts men of ambition and resource, and the haven wherein all who
have met with dire misfortune, all who are worthless and have no longer
ambition, can hide themselves and become lost to the world.

'Yes, London's the place,' said David, emphatically, pocketing his
money. 'I'll ride as far to-night as I can, eat something at a
pastrycook's, and sleep under a hay-stack. To-morrow I'll finish the
journey. Once in the city I'll find a job, even if it's only stevedoring
down at the docks.'

For a little while he sat on the boulder letting his mind run over past
events; for he was still somewhat bewildered. It must be remembered that
such serious matters as wills and bequests had not troubled his head
till that day. Boy-like, he had had faith in those whose natural
position should have prompted them to support the young fellow placed in
their care. He had had no suspicions of an intrigue, whereby his
stepmother wished to oust him from a fortune which his father's letter
had distinctly said was to become his. He had imagined that things
would go on as they were till he had finished with his engineering
studies; then it would be early enough to discuss financial matters. His
recent interview had been a great shock to him.

'I begin to see it all now,' he said. 'And I can understand now what Mr.
Jones, the solicitor, meant when last I saw him. He wanted to warn me
against Mr. Ebenezer, but did not dare to make any open statement. I'll
go to him: I'll take that letter.'

He had taken care to carry away with him everything he prized most, and
his father's correspondence was at that moment securely placed in an
inside pocket. David laid his fingers on the letters, and then read the
one in which Edward Harbor had referred to the disposal of his fortune.

'Yes, I'll take this to Mr. Jones,' repeated David, with decision. 'I've
always liked him, and father trusted him implicitly. But I'll ask for no
help; I mean to get along by myself, if only to show Mr. Ebenezer that I
can be as good as my word. There; off we go again. No use in sitting
still and moping.'

It was wonderful what a difference a plan made to him: David felt ever
so much happier. The future, instead of appearing as a huge dark cloud
before him, dwindled away till it was but a speck; his old, sunny looks
came back to a face somewhat harassed a little while before, and
thereafter David pedalled at a fine pace, placing the miles behind him
swiftly, and sending the colour to his cheeks. It was getting so dark
that in a few minutes he would have to light his lamp when he detected a
figure walking along the road in front of him, and as he came level
with the man the latter hailed him.

'Helloo there,' came in cherry tones, 'how many miles do you make it to
London?'

'Sixty-four,' answered David promptly. 'You're walking there?'

'Every inch of it,' came the hearty answer. 'I've done it before, and
will do it again. Railways are too expensive for the likes of me to
waste money on 'em. You off there too?'

David jumped from his saddle, and walked his machine beside the
stranger, who was obviously a sailor. His baggy breeches told that tale
distinctly, while the breeziness of the man, and his many nautical
expressions would, even without the assistance of a distinctive dress,
have made his profession more than probable.

'Got a week's shore leave, and mean to walk up to see the old people,'
said the stranger. 'Stoker Andus I am, from the _Indefatigable_. Who are
you? By the cut of your gib you'll be a gent same as our orfficers.
Ain't that got it?'

David laughed at the man's breeziness and straight way of asking
questions.

'I'm looking for a job,' he said promptly, 'though I believe I am what
you have described. But I've had a row at home, and now I'm off to find
work.'

The stoker, a man of some thirty years of age, came to an abrupt halt,
and swung round to have a close look at David. 'Run away, has yer,' he
exclaimed. 'Then, bust me, if you ain't a silly kid. I did the same once
when I was about your age. Ran from a home as wanted me, ran from
parents that knew what was best for me. I can see that I was a fool now
that I'm older. Jest send her astern, mister, and let's get in and talk
it over. Now, what's the rumpus? Done something you was expressly
ordered not to, eh? Got into debt, perhaps. Been smokin' and takin' the
governor's bacca? It's one of them, ain't it? And here are you a makin'
your mother that wretched--'

'Heave to for a bit,' cried David, laughing in spite of himself, and
unconsciously employing one of the stranger's nautical expressions. 'You
think I'm a fool, eh? Think I'm treating some one badly?'

From the very first he had taken a fancy to the handsome, clean-shaven
tar tramping his way to London, and he realised in a flash that the
honest fellow, with experience of his own behind him to help, was
endeavouring to give advice, and encourage what he considered to be a
truant to return home. Brusquely and in true sailor fashion Andus
answered him.

'If I'm aboard the right ship, and you've cleared off from a good home,
then you are a fool, a precious big 'un, too,' he cried. 'And there
ain't a doubt as you're treatin' some one badly; mostlike it's your
mother. P'raps it's your father. Anyways, let's drop anchor hereabouts
and put on a smoke. I can yarn when I'm smokin', and since it's dark
now, there's no need for more hurry.'

He led the way to a gate, sat himself on the top rail, and having
produced a cake of tobacco, a knife and a pipe, shredded some of the
weed into the latter.

'Well,' he began again, when he had got the weed burning, and huge
billows of smoke issuing from his lips. 'You've had a few seconds to
think it over. Andus ain't a fool, mind you, youngster, and he ain't
tryin' to give lessons to one as has heaps more eddication. But I've
seed one as was sorry for running away from home. That's me. I know one
as has never ceased to feel that he did wrong, and has suffered in
consequence. That's me again, all the time. And I ain't a goin' to fall
in alongside of another and keep me mouth shut when I know as he's
headin' straight up for the same rocks and shoals, and is in danger of
breakin' hisself to pieces. There you are. Take that from one who knows
what he's talking about.'

He lapsed into silence for a while, puffing smoke from his lips, and
occasionally looking down at David, who stood within a few feet of him.
As for the latter, the more the sailor talked, the more he liked the
man. There was an honest ring about his breezy tones, a direct manner
about the words he used that captivated our hero. Not for one moment was
he fearful that he himself would change his plans, whatever was said.
No, David had now considered his movements very thoroughly. He told
himself that it was not he who had behaved badly. It was his stepmother
and her husband. But, in case of error, he would put the facts before
this open-minded sailor.

'Supposin' you was to stop here to-night, and then ride back to-morrow,'
suggested Andus, cooly, as if he were saying the most commonplace thing.
'This home of yours ain't far, and you'd be there by breakfast time.
They'd be so glad to see you that the row would be forgotten. You'd
start in fresh again, with new paint above and below, and everything
ship-shape. What do you say to that, youngster?'

'That your intention is a good one, and your advice the same under usual
conditions,' declared David, warmly. 'But this isn't an ordinary running
away. I'll tell you how I came to leave home.'

He sat down on the rail of the gate and told Andus quietly how his
parents had treated him, and how he was sure that the two were
conspiring to oust him out of property meant for him by his dead father.
'In any case,' he ended, 'I was not wanted. I was to leave the house and
go into an office, though it was well known that I hoped to go to an
engineering college. I refused the office, and was told to clear out.
Now, tell me frankly what you think.'

The sailor dug the blade of his knife deep into the bowl of his pipe,
and stirred the contents thoroughly before he ventured to reply. There
was a deep line across his forehead, while his eyes were half closed.
David could tell that easily, for the moon was up now, and the night was
unusually bright. Then Andus struck flint and steel, and sucked flames
into his pipe till our hero thought he would never cease.

'Tell me about this solicitor,' he suddenly demanded. 'He was a friend
of your father's?'

'And of mine,' answered David. 'I like him. I am sure that he tried to
warn me against the man who married my stepmother.'

'Then jest listen here, youngster,' cried Andus, breezily. 'I take back
all the words I was flingin' at you. You ain't such a fool as I took
you for. What's more, I'm precious nigh certain that it's you that's
bein' done harm to, and not these here parents of yours. A precious fine
couple to be sure! Heavin' overboard on a dirty night wouldn't be too
much for 'em. Seems to me that they has the best of the argument at this
moment. From what I've heard they has the handlin' of the money and the
arrangement of things. They know everything, while you ain't got a one
to help you. But if you was to see this solicitor you'd be better off.
You get right off to him and ax fer his advice. Andus may be all very
well for guiding a chap back to his home when he's makin' a fool of
hisself, same as Andus did when he was young, but bust me if he's fit to
advise here. Get right off to London.'

'I will; meanwhile we'll spend the night together. What were you going
to do?' asked David, feeling better already for his chat with the
sailor.

'Why, sling me hammock under one of these here straw stacks,' cried
Andus. 'It'll be warm in there, and a chap can sleep better than in a
strange bed. To-morrow I'll be up at the first streak of light, and
headin' for the nearest village. I'll be able to eat a bit by then, and
afterwards I'll leg it for London.'

'Then I propose that we leg it now for the nearest village, have a meal
and then find a suitable stack under which to sleep. I'm real hungry;
I've had little since breakfast.'

Andus fell in with the arrangement willingly, and together they tramped
along the high road till they came to a village. There they obtained a
meal of bread and meat, washed down with cocoa, for Andus was one of
many, a rapidly increasing band in the Royal Navy, who are sworn
teetotallers.

'And now for another smoke and a doss under a stack,' cried the sailor,
as they left the village. 'The moon's that bright we might jest as well
push on for a while till we get sleepy. Then we'll get into a harbour o'
some sort, and lay to for the night. To-morrow afternoon you'll be in
London, and with a bit of luck I'll be there by nightfall. I often get a
carter or some such chap to give me a lift. Once a gent on a motor ran
me clean through; but that was unusual luck.'

'I'll send you up by train,' declared David generously. 'I haven't much,
but can spare enough for your ticket.'

'Then you jest won't,' came warmly from the sailor. 'I tell yer, sir, I
don't forget those days when I was a fool and ran from home. Bust me! I
hadn't too much cash, and well remember there wasn't a halfpenny to
spare. You ain't got such a big cargo aboard that you can afford to
heave some of it over. I'm a goin' to foot it.'

'You'll ride,' said David, with determination. 'It will bring me good
luck to do a good turn to a friend picked up on the road. Besides, I
shall have sufficient. I shall sell this bicycle the moment I get to
London. Then I shall be able to draw from the solicitor some of the
allowance I am entitled to. But I mean to work; I'll not hang about
depending on an allowance. I'll make a way for myself, if only to show
my stepmother that I can do so.'

The breezy sailor brought a hand down on his shoulders with such force
that David coughed and choked.

'That's you all the time,' he shouted. 'I could see when I first took a
squint at you through my weather eye that you wasn't one of the soft
kind. The kind fer instance that they turns out of a dry canteen, or a
grocery store. Makin' a way for yerself is one of the finest things a
man can have to do, only there's so few as realise it. But you'll do it;
I'm tryin' the same. There's advancement for every one as shows he means
to work. But here's a lot of stacks. Pipes out; dowse all lights. We
won't risk firing property that doesn't belong to us.'

They searched for a suitable spot, and very soon were stretched on a
mass of loose straw which had been piled beside one of the ricks.
Pulling a heap of it over their bodies a delicious feeling of warmth
soon came to them, and in a twinkling they were asleep. The sun
streaming on his face wakened David on the following morning.

'Now,' he shouted, waking Andus, 'a wash and then on for breakfast.
We'll walk together as far as the nearest station.'

Half an hour later David had the satisfaction of seeing Andus enter a
railway train, and of shaking his hand heartily as the latter steamed
out.

'Don't you wait a little bit,' called out the hearty sailor, waving his
hand in farewell. 'Go right off to that solicitor. Stick to your guns,
and you'll come through in the end.'

Far happier for the meeting with this wayfarer, and for the chat he had
had with him, David mounted his bicycle again, and pedalled briskly
along the main road for London. He no longer felt that doubt and
uncertainty that had oppressed him on the previous day. He had made his
plans, and a man of the world, an honest fellow gifted undoubtedly with
common sense, had approved of his actions. Henceforth he would push on
without a halt and without hesitation.

'I'll sell the bicycle, find rooms in which to live, and insert an
advertisement for work,' he told himself. 'Then I'll see Mr. Jones.'

It was an hour later before the even course of his journey was
disturbed. He was running gaily before a strong breeze, with a hot sun
streaming down upon him when in the far distance he saw a vehicle
trundling along the road. Rapidly overhauling it, he soon saw that it
was a brougham, with a coachman seated on the box, though whether there
were passengers in the vehicle he could not say; but within a few
minutes he came alongside, and, as he passed, caught a glimpse of two
ladies within. Then he swept on, pedalled past a traction-engine engaged
in hauling stones, and was soon on a clear road again. Then a loud shout
reached his ears, followed by others. He turned his head and looked over
his shoulder, with the consequence that the machine wobbled. Indeed, so
occupied was David with what was taking place in rear that he neglected
to guide his steed. In a moment therefore he ran into the ditch at the
side of the road, and was flung headlong into a hedge.

'That comes of staring over one's shoulder,' he said, picking himself up
at once. 'But there seems to have been an accident behind there. I saw
the horse in that brougham rear as it got opposite the traction-engine.
Then it dashed forward, and--why, the coachman has jumped from the box!
The coward! He's left those ladies to be dashed to pieces--the coward!'

The distance was so short that he was able to take in the whole
situation, and it was clear that the coachman on the box of the vehicle
had lost his head and his nerve. David had watched him holding to his
reins as the horse plunged; but the instant it bolted down the road the
man had leaped from his seat, and striking the road heavily had rolled
over and over into the ditch. Left to itself, the horse was coming along
the road at a mad gallop, the brougham swaying behind him in an alarming
manner, and threatening to capsize at any moment.

'George! nearly over that time,' gasped David. 'The horse is scared out
of its wits. It'll not stop till it has smashed the carriage and those
in it. Don't that coachman deserve to be kicked.'

He darted into the centre of the road, and watched the maddened creature
bearing down upon him. Behind, in the neighbourhood of the
traction-engine, he could see men waving their arms, and running along
the road, while a little nearer the coachman was sitting up in the
ditch, holding on to a damaged elbow. A head appeared at one of the
carriage windows for an instant, and David caught a glimpse of a very
frightened face. A scream even reached his ears; then he leaped back
from the road and seized his bicycle.

'I'll dodge that carriage,' he told himself. 'I'd never be able to keep
up with it at the rate the horse is going unless on my bicycle; but on
the machine I could do it. Anyway, I'll have a try.'

He swung himself into the saddle and pedalled gently along. By now he
could hear the scrunch of fast-revolving wheels on the macadam, while
more than one shriek came from the interior of the carriage. Then the
horse seemed to make directly for him. David spurted forward, his head
over his shoulder, and darted across to the far side of the road, just
escaping the feet of the maddened animal. In a twinkling the carriage
drew abreast of him, and for a while he raced along beside it, noticing
that on many an occasion it was within an ace of capsizing. Then a
brilliant manoeuvre occurred to him.

'Couldn't possibly get aboard from the side or front,' he told himself.
'The pedal of the bicycle would catch something, and I should come a
cropper beneath the wheels. I'll try the back; but it'll want doing.
That brute is going all out.'

The runaway horse was indeed galloping as hard as he could, faster, in
fact, than before, so that even had David wished to come alongside he
found it impossible, for the carriage had now drawn slightly ahead. But
with a desperate effort he lessened the distance, keeping directly
behind the vehicle so as to escape the breeze, which at that pace was of
his own making. Gradually he approached the rear of the carriage till he
was almost between the wheels. Then, quick as a flash, he leaped from
his saddle, abandoning his machine, and flung himself toward the back
axle of the vehicle. His fingers fastened upon it, and an instant later
he was jerked from his feet, and went dragging along the road. But he
was not beaten. David was no weakling, and soon made an alteration in
his position. With a jerk and a heave he regained his feet. A frantic
spring took him on to the axle, and after that he felt that victory was
before him.

'Over the top, on to the box, and then along the shafts,' he told
himself. 'No use trying to clamber along the sides. This beastly thing
is on the point of upsetting already, and with my weight added to one
side would topple over. Here goes for the top.'

It was not an easy task he had set himself by any means, for the
carriage wobbled dangerously, and there was no rail to cling to. But
David made light of risks; he never even considered them. He stood on
the axle now, and reaching up gripped the top. With a bound he was on
it, and thereafter had all his work cut out to prevent being thrown off
to either side. But slowly he won his way forward till near the box.
Then a sudden swerve of the horse sent him sliding to the right, till
legs and thighs left the roof of the vehicle. Even then he was not
beaten. With a wriggle and a heave he flopped forward to the edge of the
box seat, and as his body slid from the roof, he managed to grip the
rail. One foot by good fortune met with a step, and thanks to that and
his grip of the rail he was soon located where the driver had been. Once
there David was in his element. He dragged the whip from its socket,
stretched over the side of the box, and with a dexterous thrust of the
stick managed to hook it under the reins, which were trailing along the
road. In half a minute he had them in his hands. And then began a battle
which would have delighted the heart of a horse-master; for David coaxed
and endeavoured to control the maddened beast with both voice and rein.

'Whoa! steady boy!' he called, pulling firmly on the mouth. 'Whoa!
gently boy, gently!'

However, finding that nothing resulted, he leaned back in his seat,
braced his feet, and began to pull in earnest, sawing at the beast's
mouth. Within a minute the pace had lessened. Promptly he began to call
to the horse.

'Whoa! gently boy, gently.'

In less than five minutes he had brought him to a standstill, and
dropping from the box had the animal by the head, and was patting and
soothing him.

'Please get out and stand at one side,' he called to the ladies. 'The
traction-engine startled him and caused him to bolt. He is still a
little nervous, but in a few moments he will be calm again. It would be
better, however, to get out. Please hurry.'

To tell the truth David was half expecting the animal to bolt again, for
even as he spoke it reared up dragging him from his feet. But he had the
huge advantage of understanding horses, and, as is so often the case,
the frightened brute seemed to realise that. Sweating heavily and still
trembling, it finally stood still, allowing him to pat its neck.
Meanwhile a lady had descended, and had assisted another to follow her.
David looked at them curiously. Both were very white after such a
terrifying experience, but the elder of the two seemed to be more
indignant than frightened. She walked across to David and inspected him
critically.

'How did you manage to get on to the carriage?' she asked; and then,
when he had told her, 'I consider you to have behaved nobly. You saved
our lives, not to mention the carriage. It was a brave act, and I and my
daughter are more than obliged to you. As for our coachman he is a
coward. I shall dismiss him promptly.'

A flush of anger came to her cheeks, and a little later she turned to
face the delinquent. 'You can drive back alone. I will walk,' she said
severely, as the man came up with David's bicycle. 'You are not fit to
be driving ladies. You deserted your post in the most disgraceful
manner. Come, Charlotte, perhaps this gentleman will walk with us.'

'I will drive you if you wish,' declared David promptly. 'The coachman
can ride my bicycle. Which way, please?'

He hopped briskly into the driving seat, and picked up his reins in a
manner which gave confidence. Then, the ladies having entered the
vehicle and directed him, he set off down the road. Within half an hour
he pulled up in front of a country mansion, enclosed in fine grounds. At
once a groom was called from the stables, and David was invited to enter
the house.

'You will lunch with us of course,' said the elder lady. 'I am Mrs.
Cartwell. This is my daughter, and--ah, Richard come here.'

She beckoned to a young fellow crossing the hall at that moment and
introduced him as her son. Then in a few words she explained the
situation.

'By Jove! That was a fine thing to do,' exclaimed the young fellow, whom
David took to be about twenty years of age. 'A real plucky thing. How on
earth did you manage to clamber on to the carriage when it was going at
such a pace, while you were on a bike? But let me thank you a thousand
times for your action. You have undoubtedly saved mother's life.'

Very cordially did he shake David's hand, and thereafter did his utmost
to put our hero at his ease and make him feel at home. Then, after
lunch, he pressed him to stay a day or so, for the two young fellows
took instantly to one another.

'Come,' he said, 'you've nothing in particular to do. Off for a bicycle
tour I suppose? Stay here a day or two and have a little fishing with
me.'

'Can't, though many thanks all the same,' answered David, wishing that
he could remain. 'I'm not on a bicycle tour. I'm going to London to find
work. I've some important business to do there.'

In a little while his new friends became aware of the fact that our hero
was launching himself on the world, and though he did not tell them his
reasons for leaving home, they realised that he was justified.

'If you cannot stay, you can at least remember the address of this
house,' said Mrs. Cartwell. 'We shall be glad to receive a visit from
you at any time, and I shall expect you to write. And now we will no
longer detain you.'

They sent him away with further words of thanks, while Dick Cartwell
accompanied him some five miles on the journey.

'Mind,' he said, as they gripped hands for the last time, 'we shall
expect to see you again, and hope you will write. I feel that we haven't
half thanked you.'

David waved the words aside, and straddled his bicycle. 'I don't want
thanks,' he said abruptly. 'But I'd like to come down. I'll write when
I've found work and am getting on a little. For the present I have no
time and no right to laze and enjoy myself.'

He went off down the road waving to Dick, never dreaming that the two of
them would come together again under strange circumstances. Pedalling
hard, he made up for lost time, and just as the shades of evening were
falling, found his way into the great city of London.

'Please direct me to some little house where I can obtain a lodging,' he
asked of a policeman who was walking on the pavement.

The constable, a fine, burly fellow, surveyed our hero from head to
foot. Then he smiled at him, and brought a massive hand on to his
shoulder.

'Come along with me,' he said. 'My missus wants a lodger. I was told
this morning when I went off on duty that I was to try and hear of one.
You'd do for a time. How'd you like to come?'

David smiled back at him promptly. 'Splendid!' he cried. 'I'd be glad to
come. I shall be saved heaps of trouble hunting for a room.'

That night he slipped into a cosy bed between the cleanest sheets
feeling that fortune had been really kind to him; for since he left
home he had done nothing but make friends. There was Andus, the breezy
sailor, Mrs. Cartwell, to say nothing of Dick, her jovial son. And now
there was the constable; for a nicer fellow than Constable Hemming did
not exist, while his wife took a motherly interest in David. It was a
good start in life; but would the future be equally prosperous?




CHAPTER III

Wanted a Job


The rattle of wheels in the street outside, and the brilliant rays of
the morning sun awakened David on his first morning in London. In a
twinkling he was up and dressed.

'Suppose you've come up to start life, sir,' said Constable Hemming when
his lodger put in an appearance. 'Breakfast's ready, and you can have it
at the back in the parlour, or here in the kitchen along with the missus
and me.'

'Then I'll stop with you,' declared David, smiling. 'Yes, constable, I'm
here to start life. I shall have to look round for work; but first of
all I must go into the city to see a firm of solicitors. I shall have to
find my way there.'

'I'll guide you,' came the answer. 'House rent is that dear towards the
city that I have to come out here. Every morning I take a 'bus to the
central police station and there get my orders. I'm on special duty
these days. We're hunting for a gang of foreign burglars that have come
to London to bother us; but what are you going to do? Medical student,
eh?'

David shook his head vigorously. 'Nothing so grand,' he said. 'I have
to find work of some sort, and I don't care what it is at first, so long
as I can earn something with which to pay my way while I look round.'

The constable's eyes opened wide with astonishment, and for a little
while he regarded his lodger critically, while his wife busied herself
with putting the breakfast on the table. He remembered the conversation
which he had had with her on the previous night. They had agreed without
the smallest hesitation that David was a young gentleman used to more or
less fine surroundings. There was nothing secret or underhand about him;
but they did not imagine that he had left home with the intention of
making his way alone in the world. This information that he must find
some sort of work showed at once that he was dependent solely on
himself.

'Why,' declared Hemming, 'you look as if you ought to be in an office,
or in the army as an officer. Want to find work? What about your
parents?'

Probably his official training caused him to regard David again, and
this time with some suspicion.

'I left home hurriedly after a row,' said our hero promptly. 'I was told
I was not wanted. There was a quarrel about money; I came away
determined to make my own way.'

'But,' began the constable, like Andus, the breezy sailor, feeling that
he ought to give some good advice here, advice culled from his own age
and somewhat wide experience. 'But, look here, sir. Ain't you made a
great mistake? Wouldn't it be better to think things over and turn
back? Most like your parents are advertising for you. I should have to
give information.'

David stopped him with a pleasant smile, lifting his hand as he did so.
Then in a few short words he told the constable and his wife what had
happened, refraining, however, from telling them about the will.

'Now,' he said, looking from one to the other.

'I take it all back; no chap with a bit of pride could do otherwise,'
declared Hemming, warmly. 'So you want work, any sort of work?'

David nodded. 'Anything to tide me over for the time being,' he said.
'Ultimately I mean to leave the country.'

'You wouldn't sniff if I was to mention the job of lift-boy?' asked
Hemming, somewhat bashfully, as if he were almost ashamed to introduce
such a job to David's notice.

'Where? When is it open? Could I work the lift?' asked our hero
promptly. 'To-day I could hardly begin; to-morrow I shall be free.'

'Then you can come along with me to the city,' said the constable,
laughing at his eagerness. 'It so happens that an old soldier, who
belongs to the corps of commissionaires, told me a night or two back
that his firm would be wanting a young chap. It's one of the big London
stores; we'll see what we can do for you.'

David thanked him warmly, and then, remembering his bicycle, mentioned
it.

'I want to sell it,' he said. 'I have some ready money on me; but the
machine will be useless here, and the cash I could get for it useful.'

'Of course, and I could take you to a place where a fair price would be
given; but if you'll take my advice you'll wait a little. Supposing this
London firm is a good way from your lodgings, a bicycle would be handy
to take you to work; the machine'll come to no harm for the moment, and
will fetch it's price whenever you want to part with it. You keep it for
a while. Now, sir, if you're ready we'll set out.'

In five minutes the two were in the street, the constable looking fine
and burly in his uniform, while the gentlemanly appearance of the young
fellow walking beside him caused the neighbours to remark. They
clambered on to a motor-bus at the end of the street, and made their way
into the city. Then they descended close to the Mansion House, and were
soon in conversation with the commissionaire.

'You mentioned a firm as wanted a young fellow for the lift,' said the
constable. 'Is that job still going?'

The commissionaire looked David up and down with an experienced eye, and
noted his straight figure, his good looks, and his general air of
superiority. Then he nodded his head several times in succession.

'That job's still going,' he said, 'and a young chap same as this is
just what's wanted; but he don't want to have kid gloves on his hands
all the while. This firm's looking for a lad as can appear smart when
he's in the lift, and can strip his livery off next moment and clean and
tidy things. Chaps as don't care to dirty their fingers ain't wanted.'

'Then I'm your man,' David blurted promptly. 'I'm not afraid of dirtying
my fingers with clean work--honest work I mean. As to smartness, there I
can't pretend to judge.'

Hemming winked slyly at his friend, who went by the name of Tiller,
while the latter again surveyed David with a critical eye, till the
latter flushed red under the scrutiny. Then Sergeant Tiller's head began
to wag forward and backward again, in a manner evidently characteristic
of him, while a smile broke out on his face.

'You'll do I should say,' he declared. 'Ready to work now?'

David thought for a moment. 'Ready to begin at this moment,' he said.
'But I must see some one in the city during business hours to-day.
To-morrow I could take to work steadily.'

'Then you can leave him to me, Hemming,' said the sergeant, 'I'll take
him right along, and the chances are he'll get the post. I used to work
for the same firm, and seeing as they knew that I had the best idea of
what sort of young chap they wanted, they left it to me to find a man.
One moment, mister, I'll get leave to be off for a while; then we'll
take a 'bus along to Oxford Street. The firm I'm talking about have a
big fashionable store close to Bond Street.'

Within an hour David and his new friend were at their destination,
waiting within the huge glass doors of an establishment, the size and
rich decoration of which filled our hero with amazement; for trips to
London had not often come his way. Mrs. Clayhill, his stepmother, had
never troubled to take him with her.

'There's thousands of pounds worth of things here,' whispered the
sergeant, as they waited for an interview with the manager, 'and, very
naturally, the firm is careful as to whom it employs. There's the lift
yonder. The man working it should really be at the door. From that I
take it that the hand who was here has left. That'll make 'em extra
anxious to get a substitute. Ah, come along.'

David's heart fluttered a trifle as he was ushered into the sanctum of
the manager; for he felt that the interview meant much to him. To be
truthful, he would rather have begun his life at some post more in
accordance with his upbringing; but then, he reflected, beggars must not
be choosers, and so long as the work was honest, it would tide him over
a difficult time. Besides, there was his interview with the solicitors.
It would be fine to be able to declare that he had already found a job,
and was in need of nothing. A second later he was before a diminutive
man, dressed very smartly, who regarded him with the same critical eye
as in the case of the sergeant.

'Just the young fellow, sir,' said the latter, nodding towards our hero.
'Constable Hemming introduced him to me. He's fresh to London, and this
will be his first job.'

'Know anything about lifts and machinery?' demanded the manager sharply.

'Yes, sir; I've worked in the shops at school, and meant to become an
engineer.'

David blurted the words out thoughtlessly, and then could have bitten
his tongue off the next instant. For if he had been candid with other
people, and described how he had left home, here, where he might be
employed to work, he wished his past history to remain unknown. But he
forgot that his whole appearance, his speech, his carriage, all told the
tale of his upbringing. He did not see the old sergeant wink at the
manager. He watched him bend forward and whisper.

'Constable tells me he was driven away from home, sir,' said the
sergeant, in the manager's ear. 'The lad's as honest as they make them.
I'll back him to give satisfaction. Give him a trial. He's the kind of
lad you could turn on to anything; he's a gentleman all over.'

David would have flushed red could he have heard the words, but he was
watching the manager. The latter looked closely at him again, smiled
suddenly, and then asked a question.

'What wages?' he asked.

'Fifteen shillings a week,' answered our hero.

'Nonsense! We start our men with a pound a week. We will give you a
month's trial. Hours eight-thirty in the morning till six. When can you
come?'

'To-morrow, sir. I'd like to have a trial now, but I must see some one
in the city this afternoon.'

'Then go to the lift and have a lesson. To-morrow we shall expect you.
Have you a dark suit?'

David nodded promptly.

'Then come in that: we have livery which ought to fit you. Good-bye.'

It was a much-excited David who emerged from the manager's office. The
sudden succession to a post at a pound a week made him feel giddy, it
was such good fortune. He hardly heard the old sergeant explaining his
errand to the lift-man. Almost unconsciously he shook hands with the
former and thanked him for his help. Then he entered the lift, and
watched his instructor as he ran it up and down. Ten minutes later he
was controlling the affair himself, and within half an hour was
efficient. That morning, he ran the elevator for some two hours all
alone, to the entire satisfaction of his employers, conveying a number
of purchasers to other parts of the building.

'You'll do,' declared the manager, when mid-day arrived. 'You're steady
and keep your head. Don't forget, it is a strict rule that all doors be
closed before the lift is moved. Accidents so easily happen. Now take a
word of advice. Every one can see what you are. Don't talk; keep
yourself to yourself and you'll make no enemies. To-morrow morning at
half-past eight.'

He dismissed him with a nod, and very soon David was out in the street
once more.

'And now for Mr. Jones, the solicitor,' he told himself. 'I don't feel
half so bad about the interview as I did yesterday. That job makes such
a difference. I'll telephone down to his address, and ask when he can
see me.'

He went at once to a call office, and promptly was able to arrange to
see the solicitor at two o'clock. Then he journeyed down into the city,
ate heartily at a cheap restaurant, and finally went to Mr. Jones's
office. It was a very astonished solicitor who received him.

'Why, you of all people!' he declared, as our hero entered. 'Sit down
there. You've got something to tell me; something is troubling you, that
I can detect at once. What is it?'

David at once told him how he had left home, and the cause for such
action.

'I made up my mind to fend for myself,' he said. 'I decided to find work
in London, and to decline the post in an office which Mr. Clayhill
offered.'

There was a serious air on Mr. Jones's face as he listened. 'That was a
bold course to pursue,' he said. 'Work is hard to find in this huge
city. There are so many applicants; but, of course, there is your
allowance. It will enable you to live for the time being.'

David shook his head promptly. 'I've got work already at twenty
shillings a week,' he said. 'I want you and the others to understand
that I mean to stand alone and fight my own battle. I mean to be
independent; I'll not call for that allowance till I actually need it.'

'Then, my lad, all the more honour to you,' declared Mr. Jones, gripping
his hand. 'But, of course, the allowance is yours. I shall make
arrangements to have it at my own disposal, not at that of your
stepmother's. So there was a scene, David? You were told to go. But why?
Money, I suppose.'

In a few words David recounted what had happened, and how he had been
told that he had next to no interest in his father's possessions.

'I knew that father had written home,' he declared. 'He sent me a letter
saying that he proposed to change his will, and he wrote to my
stepmother intimating the same. She denies this fact; but there is my
letter.'

He drew it from his pocket and waited, watching Mr. Jones while the
latter perused it And slowly he saw the solicitor's expression become
sterner and sterner.

'This is very serious, David,' he said at last, 'and though this letter
proves without doubt that your father made a later will, and that your
stepmother has deliberately obscured that fact, yet I fear that matters
cannot be altered. This later will is not to be found. Evidence has come
to hand which is so conclusive that the courts have presumed your
father's death. Nothing can now prevent the execution of the will now in
our possession.'

He looked thoughtfully at David for some few moments, and then pushed
his spectacles back on to his furrowed forehead. 'Nothing can alter the
matter now,' he added, 'unless this later will is found. That seems to
me to be out of the question.'

'I think not. I intend to find it; I shall go to China.'

David's sudden and unexpected declaration took the breath from Mr.
Jones. He pulled his spectacles from his forehead, wiped the glasses
feverishly, and put them back on to his nose. He gripped the two arms of
his chair before he replied.

'What!' he demanded. 'Go to China! But--'

'China is a vast country, yes,' agreed our hero, taking the words from
his mouth; 'but I was in close correspondence with my father. I know
precisely where he was staying, and the roads he travelled. That limits
the part to be searched. How I shall go out there I do not know. It may
take years to bring about; but go I will. Something tells me that I
shall be fortunate.'

There was a long silence between them before Mr. Jones ventured to break
it. At first he had been inclined to look upon David as a foolish young
fellow; but he had some knowledge of the lad, and of his father before
him, and knew our hero to be a steady-going individual. Moreover he had
heard that he was practical, and extremely persistent. He conjured up in
his mind's eye the figures of Mr. and Mrs. Ebenezer Clayhill, and turned
from them with some amount of annoyance.

'The whole matter is very unfortunate,' he said at last, 'and were it
not that I now feel that I have your interests to protect, I should be
tempted to retire from the post of executor to which your father
expressly appointed me. Of course, I shall have an interview with Mr.
Ebenezer and Mrs. Clayhill, and, as I have said, I shall insist that I
have the paying of your allowance. Further, I will consult one of my
legal friends on your behalf. With this letter before him, it is
possible he will advise you to apply to the courts to arrest the
administration of the will by Mr. Ebenezer Clayhill and his wife,
pending a further search. In that case you would have time to go to
China, and traverse the ground covered by your father. But how you will
manage to get there passes my comprehension.'

He looked across at David, and slowly his serious expression melted into
a smile. He recollected some words which Mrs. Clayhill had let fall at
an interview he had once had with her. Of David she had remarked, when
Mr. Jones had asked after him, 'he is an obstinate boy. Once he has made
up his mind to accomplish a thing, nothing will shake him. He is just
like his father.' And there was David searching the solicitor's face,
unconsciously wearing an expression of dogged resolution. The square
chin, already at such a youthful age showing firmness of purpose, was
set in bulldog fashion. The thin lips were closed in one strong line.
The eyes never flinched nor wavered.

'George!' cried Mr. Jones, suddenly stirred out of his professional
calm, 'I'll help you. I like your spirit immensely, and, unofficially of
course, I believe that you are being victimised. If it's money, why--.'

David held up his hand promptly. 'No thank you, Mr. Jones,' he said,
warmly. 'I am going to do this on my own. It's awfully kind of you to
think of offering money; but I'll make what I want, and put it to my
allowance if need be. If I can, I won't touch the latter. Those people
at 'The Haven' shall see that I am equal to my word. But you are helping
me enormously by discussing the matter. Consult with this friend of
yours, and if he says that an application on my part, with this letter
of my father's, can arrest the splitting up of all his possessions for
the time being, then there is hope. I shall have some time. I may be
able to find the will we know he made.'

Looking at the matter when left to himself, Mr. Jones could not but
admit that there was something of the wild-goose chase about our hero's
resolution to go to China. The finding of the will left by Mr. Edward
Harbor, since murdered by Boxers, was so extremely improbable that the
effort seemed but wasted energy, failure but a foregone conclusion.

'But, on the contrary, the boy might have luck,' he told himself. 'There
is a Providence that watches over such young fellows when their own
parents ill-treat them. Perhaps David will come across the document,
perhaps he will not. In any case, travel to China will open his mind and
help him in the future, and if that is so, the time will not be wasted.
That he will go there I am absolutely certain.'

He had dismissed our hero with a warm and encouraging shake of the hand,
and a promise to communicate with him; and less than a week had passed
when David was in the solicitor's office again.

'I have consulted with my friend,' Mr. Jones told him, 'and he believes
that an application to the courts would be successful. I shall have it
made on your behalf, and, of course, I shall bear the expense. Some day
you may be able to repay me. If not--.'

David stood up at once. 'I shall repay you without doubt,' he declared
solemnly. 'I mean to get on in the world; some day I shall be able to
spare the money.'

'And that "some day" will be soon enough. In the meanwhile I shall go to
the courts. This letter of yours, which I shall take care of, will be
put in as evidence, and the judge will be told that you are going to
China. As a result he may very well order that the estate be left in the
hands of trustees, the income to be given as in the will we have, while
the estate itself will remain untouched for a certain period. In three
weeks' time the case should come forward.'

During those days our hero worked very hard at the establishment where
he had charge of the lift.

'We couldn't have obtained a smarter young fellow,' the manager had
declared more than once, 'while nothing seems a trouble to him. He keeps
his lift and his livery spotlessly clean, and is most careful with our
clients. I shall raise his wages.'

And raise them he did, David receiving twenty-two shillings a week after
he had been there a fortnight. Up and down he travelled all day long in
his lift, announcing at each floor the various departments of the store
to be found there. Sharp young fellow that he was, he soon knew the ins
and outs of the establishment, and was a perfect mine of information. He
looked up trains for the firm's clients, directed others to various
parts of London, and always displayed willingness and politeness. It was
not to be wondered at, therefore, that he gained the esteem and
confidence of his employers. As to the other employees, he was on
excellent terms with them, except in a very few cases, the latter being
men who, like the rest, detected our hero's evident superiority, and
being jealous endeavoured to make matters unpleasant for him.

'Call David Harbor,' sounded across the floor of the store one day, when
the place was empty of customers, while our hero was engaged in cleaning
his lift. Promptly he rolled down his sleeves, slipped on his livery
jacket, and stepped briskly to the manager's office, wondering why he
was wanted.

'Sit down,' said the latter, when he had entered and closed the door.
'Now, Harbor, I wish to be confidential. For six weeks past we have been
missing a number of valuables.'

At the words David rose from his seat, flushing a furious red, while his
eyes flashed at the manager.

'You don't mean to suggest that I----'

'Tut, tut,' came the interruption instantly. 'Sit down, Harbor. I said
that valuables had been disappearing for the past six weeks. You have
been here one month exactly; things were going before you came. Your
arrival here has made no difference.'

David pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and mopped his forehead;
for the news, the sudden thought that he might be the suspected person,
had thrown him into a violent heat. 'I'm glad you put it like that,
sir,' he said. 'I began to feel uncomfortable.'

'And I endeavoured at once to show you that you were by no means the
suspected person. I told you I wished to talk to you confidentially.
Well now, there is some one engaged here, we believe, who is robbing the
firm. Up till now our efforts to trace the miscreant have proved
unavailing. We applied to the police. They advised us that some one,
wholly trustworthy, Mr. Harbor, wholly trustworthy, and whose
resolution and pluck we could count on, should be left here to watch.
The directors asked me to suggest a name. I gave yours without
hesitation.'

He sat back in his chair to watch the effect his news had on our hero,
and smiled serenely when he saw the latter tuck his handkerchief away
and assume his most business-like expression.

'Yes, sir,' said David promptly, awaiting further information.

'This is the plan. You and the police are to work together, and when
every one has left this establishment, you will pass in again with the
help of a key I shall hand you. You will patrol the various departments
during the night, and slip out before the hands arrive in the morning.
Your place at the lift will be taken by a substitute for the time being.
It will be given out that you are ill. Of course, there might be some
risk attached to the undertaking.'

'I'll chance that,' declared David at once. 'I should rather enjoy the
experience, not that I am anxious to be a thief taker. Still, I am in
your employ and will obey whatever orders are given me.'

'Then you consent?' asked the manager.

'Certainly: I shall obey your orders seeing that I am in your service.'

'But you could decline to take this risk if you wished. However, we have
considered the matter. There will be a salary of a pound a night while
you are watchman, and a liberal reward if the offender is apprehended.
Now I want you to finish your work, and join me at the police station.
Don't let other employees see you going there. We will make our final
arrangements with the officials of the police.'

It may be imagined that David was somewhat excited after such an
announcement. Not for one moment did he think of declining the task
required of him; for he looked upon it as a duty. He obtained good
wages, these people had been kind to him, and if he could serve them,
all the better. Besides, it might lead to a better and more highly-paid
post. He polished the brass of his lift, put aside his livery, and
emerged from the building, leaving one of the officials to close the
establishment. Then, taking a side street, he hurried to the police
station. Once there the final arrangements were soon made. The manager
already knew that David was lodging with a policeman, and to our hero's
pleasure he learned that Constable Hemming was to take duty outside the
store, being relieved by a friend. Both were to be provided with keys,
while David was presented with a basket containing food and drink. An
electric torch was handed to him, as well as a life preserver and a
whistle. Thus equipped he drove back to the establishment at ten that
night, and slipped cautiously into the store.

Just keep moving and doing things all the while,' Hemming advised him.
'Lights are always kept going on all the floors, so that you'll have no
difficulty in seeing. But it's wonderful how sleepy a fellow gets,
especially when he's done the job on more than one occasion. Keep moving
is the thing. Always remember to walk softly. If you spot anything
funny, keep quiet, and come along to warn me. The end of a stick pushed
through the letter-box will tell me I'm wanted. Don't get scared. It's
only fools and babies as fly from their own shadows.'

Nevertheless David found the ordeal of promenading the huge store all
alone in the silent hours of the night something of an ordeal. For there
were a hundred minor sounds and queer noises to arrest his attention and
rouse his suspicions. However, he mastered his fears, and soon began
really to like the work. Nor did he forget the constable's advice.
During the whole time he was on duty he never once sat down, save to eat
a meal. All the rest of the time he was walking through the place,
making not a sound with his cotton-padded soles, and because of the
movement easily managing to keep awake. Indeed, so well did he sleep
during the day when he returned with the constable, that he found no
wish to rest at night. The exercise he took kept him wakeful and brisk,
ready for anything. But a week came and went, and till then nothing had
happened. It was on a Saturday night, soon after midnight, that our hero
suddenly realised that another strange mixture of sounds was coming to
his ear and echoing dully through the store. Instantly he was on the
_qui vive_.

'Some one moving down below,' he told himself. 'Yes, in the basement:
I'll slip down in that direction.'

Gripping his life preserver, and with the electric torch in his other
hand, he stole across to the stairway, and crouching there peered over
the banisters. No one was to be seen, and now his ear could not detect a
noise. Then, suddenly, a sound reached him. It was a man whispering.
Instantly David clutched the banister and lowered himself head foremost
till he was able to look into the basement, in the centre of which one
single light glimmered. Click! There was the sound of a muffled
footstep, and then a sudden gleam of light over on the far wall. As
David looked he saw the door of a huge cupboard, in which employees were
wont to hang their hats and coats, slide open, while the figure of a man
appeared. There was an electric torch in his hand, and with this he lit
the way behind him. Then another figure appeared, and following him two
others. They stepped into the store, carrying a heavy burden with them.

'At last,' said our hero, struggling back into the stairway. 'Time I
went to warn Constable Hemming.'




CHAPTER IV

A Responsible Position


There was the muffled sound of many feet in the basement as David
slipped across to the doorway of the store, where was situated the
letter-box through which he would be able to pass a signal to Constable
Hemming; and for a while he stood still listening.

'Better make absolutely sure that they are coming up here,' he told
himself, tip-toeing back towards the head of the basement stairs. 'And
there's another thing to consider. If they have entered through that
cupboard, they will escape that way, unless, of course--my word! that
would alter matters very materially.'

For at first sight, and remembering what he had read about other
burglaries, David had taken it for granted that the men he had seen
stepping into the basement had gained access to the cupboard through a
hole in the wall. Then, suddenly, the idea had flashed across his brain
that probably they had merely secreted themselves there during the day,
unseen by any save, perhaps, an accomplice in the store. In which case
their retreat was cut off.

'Out of the question,' he told himself, bending over the basement
banisters. 'There is that heavy parcel. They couldn't have brought that
in. No, they have broken through the wall in some manner. Let me see.'

In his mind's eye he inspected the surroundings of the store, but
obtained little help from his review of the dwellings. For though a
mixed property lay adjacent to the store, and, indeed, was attached to
its walls, the majority of the premises were divided into numerous
offices and workrooms, while there was an enormous number of tenants.
However, his reflections were suddenly cut short, for one of the four
men below suddenly put in an appearance, and came hurrying up the
stairs, his rubber soles making not a sound. Instantly David took to his
heels and ran across to the manager's office, the latter affording a
safe asylum near to the door through which he was to give his signal. He
bolted through the open swing-doors of the office, and turning round
peered through the glass screen which helped to form it. His heart began
to beat furiously; for the men had all reached the ground floor by now,
and were advancing direct for the manager's office.

'They'll see me at once, of course,' thought David, on the verge of
panic 'I can't get out without their catching sight of me. Where am I to
hide?'

The answer came to him within the second as he ran his eyes round the
office, for all the world as if he were a hunted animal. 'Ah, behind the
bookcase. That'll do for me.'

Quite close to him, with its back placed within a foot of one wall of
the office was a big desk, with a leather top, on which ink, paper, and
pens were scattered. And posted on it, right at the back, was a small
bookcase, filled with directories and a heterogeneous mixture of books
and papers, besides a bale of leather samples. It afforded the only
hiding-place possible, and David slid towards it eagerly. The space
behind was barely sufficient to accommodate him, for our hero was
inclined to be somewhat bulky, and showed promise of one day possessing
broad shoulders and big limbs. However, by pushing firmly, he was able
to roll the desk a couple of inches outward on the parquet flooring, and
that without so much as a sound. He was hardly ensconced in the space
behind when one of the strangers entered.

'Bring it in here, bring it in here,' David heard him say, with a
peculiarly nasal accent, while the words were slurred as if a foreigner
had given vent to them. 'There, lay it down, we are not ready for it
yet. Bah! why not a light here of all places? There are lamps going all
over the store, and the police know them and take no further notice. But
here, where we want them, none. _Peste!_ How stupid of the owners!'

There came a snigger from the man directly behind him, while David could
hear the deep breathing of the two who were carrying the long, strange
object.

'It's heavy, at any rate,' he told himself. 'Let's take a squint at 'em.
Jolly glad I am that there isn't a lamp going here. The light would come
through between the books and show me nicely. My word! This is a fine
peep show! There are a dozen niches through which I can get a view.
That's an electric torch. Ain't the chap careful to keep the light on
the floor too! Every one of them wearing gloves. This is interesting.'

He almost forgot to think of himself and the undoubted danger of his own
position. For the four men in the manager's office, one of them not more
than the desk's width from David, occupied the greater part of his
thoughts. It was true that there was no light in this particular part of
the store; but, then, elsewhere there were electric lamps, and the
illumination of the whole place and of this office in particular, though
not brilliant, was ample for our hero. His eyes were used to the
dimness, and as he stared between the books on their dusty shelves, he
was able first of all to detect the fact that all four burglars wore kid
gloves on their hands and rubber shoes on their feet For the rest, three
were undoubtedly of dark complexion and wore moustaches, while the
fourth, the only one whose aspect was decidedly English, was
clean-shaven. He leaned his back against the wall close to the bookcase,
and breathed heavily while David surveyed his companions.

'Can't think why them cylinders are so heavy,' our hero heard him
grumble. 'From the look of the things, with their rope coatings, you'd
say as they was that light a child could play with 'em. But, my! they
make a chap blow. Where's the safe?'

'S-s-sh, my friend. People will find us before we find the safe if you
make such a bother,' declared the man who had led the way into the
office, and who for a moment had used his electric torch. 'The safe is
here, without doubt, seeing that it was here this morning, and such
things are not moved as easily as are boxes. Behold the safe, my
friend.'

Tucked away in his hiding-place David went hot all over, till beads of
perspiration streamed from his forehead, and his clothing clung to him
uncomfortably; for in the leader of the gang--for such the speaker
seemed to be--he suddenly recognised an official of the store who had
had some years of service with his employers, and who was an expert in
the jewellery department.

'And is a burglar all the while,' thought David, common sense telling
him that the man was an expert in this branch also; for otherwise, how
could he wear such a business-like air? How could he appear so
unconcerned, so used to midnight entries into closed premises? 'Queer,'
thought our hero. 'It just shows his cunning. The articles which have
been disappearing have not been stones or jewellery. Valuable furs have
gone, and Henricksen has nothing to do with that department. So they're
after the safe? I should laugh right out if it didn't happen to be
distinctly dangerous; for our manager took care to empty it. There are
useless books inside; nothing more.'

'Behold the safe, my friend,' said Henricksen again, triumphantly, his
eyes flashing as he turned towards the clean-shaven man beside the
bookcase, while his electric torch played on the huge mass of painted
steel, wherein the most valuable jewels and the money of the store were
wont to rest at night. 'You grumble at the weight of a couple of
cylinders; let us see if you will grumble when we come to handle the
gold. But we must be moving; there is big work before us, and it is now
twenty minutes after midnight. Yes, precisely that time.'

His coolness was amazing. David saw him refer to a neat little watch
strapped to his left wrist, and noted at the same moment that the gloves
he wore were of reddish colour, while the left one was split up the
back. Then his eyes went to the cylinders lying snugly on the floor, and
from them to the other men.

'They might be any nationality,' he thought. 'To look at them now they
don't appear to be ruffians, but there you are, old ideas are being
exploded every day of the year. A criminal face does not always mean a
murderer or a burglar. Some of the most cunning fellows known to the
police of late have had quite a sanctimonious appearance. The
well-groomed, gentlemanly criminal who is a clever hypocrite has a
better chance to-day than the man with the face of a bull dog, the
forehead of a Cree Indian, and the narrow, half-closed eyes of a Chinee.
What are they up to now?'

He might well ask the question, for David was not used to burglarious
enterprises. Up till this moment he had hardly dared to imagine how the
men would endeavour to force the huge safe in the office. Then he
remembered the cylinders, and remembering them, and drawing upon his
slender engineering knowledge, he realised that modern methods are
adopted not alone by scientists who mostly discover them, and by
up-to-date manufacturers, but also by up-to-date malefactors. The
oxy-acetylene flame, he knew, would eat its way into a mass of steel so
tough that not even a finely-tempered drill would touch it. Also, that
it would burn a path far sooner than the same could be formed by the
aid of the best of tools. His past knowledge told him all that. But how
would these men set about the task, and----

'That's not the sort of thing I want to be interested in just now,' he
suddenly told himself. 'I want to get out of this, and without their
knowing; how's that to be done? A fine fool I shall look if I have to
watch their operations and see them get away without summoning those
posted outside. How's it to be done?'

He might ask himself the question a thousand times, but yet there was no
answer. Puzzle his wits as he might, he could see no way out of the
difficulty. He was trapped; he was virtually a prisoner. A movement on
his part would be fatal; these men were armed perhaps.

'Armed--that's a shooter, a magazine pistol!' He almost said the words
aloud of a sudden, for his danger was brought full face before him. The
man, Henricksen, pulled something from his trouser pocket and deposited
it on the desk behind which David was crouching. The thing glittered in
the feeble rays. It flashed brightly as the electric torch happened to
cast a beam in its direction. It was a Browning pistol without a shadow
of doubt. It brought David Harbor to a full stop for the moment; even
his heart seemed to arrest its palpitations.

'Unstrap the rugs,' he heard Henricksen say, as if he were a mile off,
'fix the props, and let us get going. When all is ready Spolikoff will
get along and watch the door and windows, while Ovanovitch will mount
the stairs and clear every jewel that he thinks worth having. The
Admiral will lend me a hand. Got those glasses, Admiral?'

The individual alluded to, he with the clean-shaven face, searched in an
inner pocket, and produced two long cases. He placed them on the desk,
and then proceeded to help his companions. Nor could there now be a
doubt in David's mind that the gang was experienced and well drilled.
There was not a hitch, not a false move in the proceedings. They went
about the work like men who had done the same before, and who in each
case knew what was required of them. A huge, thick rug or mat--David
could not tell which--was unwound from the outside of the two
rope-covered cylinders, and was quickly supported on four wooden legs,
so contrived as to telescope at the will of the owners. A second rug was
slung at one side, making a species of tent, the roof being meant
without doubt to arrest the glare of the flame about to be employed, and
keep it from reflecting on the ceiling. While the side curtain would
keep the rays from the shop windows and from the eyes of curious or
suspicious passers.

'And now for the burner,' Henricksen said, seating himself on a chair
beneath the tent, and donning a pair of dark-coloured spectacles. 'Put
on your pair of glasses, Admiral. I've known a man pretty nigh blinded
by the glare of the flame, and in any case, supposing there was trouble,
you wouldn't be able to see when you wanted to hook it. Fix those rubber
tubes. We'll have things going nicely in a second.'

David took in a long breath as he watched the scene, and once more his
eyes surveyed each member of the gang. 'Two Russians,' he told himself,
looking at the dark moustached men told off to leave the office.
'Spolikoff and Ovanovitch. The sort of alien not wanted in this country,
and the Admiral is, I suppose, an ex-sailor--a bad hat, dismissed from
the lower deck, a confirmed criminal. The only Englishman amongst
them--what an artful fellow Henricksen must be! Who would have thought
that the man employed in the jewellery store could be such a
double-faced rascal! And there's his pistol.'

Yes, there it was, twinkling in the dim light, fascinating David,
drawing his eyes in its direction every half minute, inviting him to
inspect it further, rousing his envy, making his fingers itch to possess
and handle it.

'Why not? With a long reach I could do it. Why not? It's a risk. I'll
take it.'

It was typical of the lad that he should come to a sudden decision, and
having so decided, should proceed to carry the task out with all his
courage and determination. Was that not David's character? Had he not
already shown courage and determination? What were Mrs. Clayhill's words
on our hero? 'Stubborn and obstinate,' she had misrepresented him.
'Perseveres in a thing he has decided on; just like his father.'

At such times her none too pleasant features bore a somewhat ferocious
aspect 'Ain't she just angry?' David used to say, as he went his way,
deeming it best to absent himself for the moment. 'Just sparks flashing
from her eyes. She doesn't seem as if she could be friendly. I must be
an out and out obstinate fellow.'

And so he was. David was an obstinate fellow without a shadow of doubt,
but with this saving clause--he was not selfish, and he was possessed of
common sense; he could criticise his own actions and impulses. If he
once, on maturer reflection, came to the conclusion that a certain
decision was wrong, he had the sense to change it. His obstinacy was
confined to matters wherein he felt that there could be no error.
Witness his intention of fending for himself, of making his way alone in
the world. David had that as a fixed and firm-rooted purpose before him
now. His strong chin squared itself in the most emphatic manner whenever
the matter crossed his mind, which was nearly always. But here was the
pistol.

'I'll have it,' he told himself, his muscles tightening. 'One long
stretch and there it is. Ah! they're turning their backs; I'll have a
chance before very long.'

'Now the match; set the flame going,' he heard Henricksen say, and
looking beneath the tent-like structure saw a sudden flash, and the
profiles of this man and the 'Admiral.' The latter was holding a match
towards the end of the long brass burner which Henricksen gripped in his
hands. David noticed that two separate pipes converged towards the end
into one, from which a small flame now spouted, while Henricksen
controlled two taps, one for each of the tubes, with his fingers.
Farther back a rubber tube went to each of those of metal leading to
the burner, and ended at one of the cylinders, or rather, to put it in
the correct order, began there, carrying the gas to the burner.

'You two get off,' said Henricksen, seeing that he had a flame.
'Spolikoff, keep moving up and down, and if you hear a latch click, sit
down as tight as possible. The police look into the store every time
they pass, and might see you. Admiral, pull that rug round a bit. The
light will break too much round the corner.'

What a clever criminal he was! David marvelled that it could be the same
sleek, suave man who waited in the jewellery department, and enticed
customers to buy the things he offered. Then his eyes closed suddenly,
for Henricksen's fingers manipulated the taps of his burner, and at once
a fierce flame spurted out, casting about it a dazzling light. Peering
round the corner of the rug which the 'Admiral' had drawn towards him,
and shading his eyes behind an enormous directory, David caught a
glimpse of the intensely hot jet of flame playing on the door of the
safe in the neighbourhood of the lock. It seemed that he could actually
see the paint peeling off, while, almost at once, the metal beneath
became white hot. In less time than he could have believed it possible
it seemed to be pitting, as if the flame were devouring portions of it.
Then, very suddenly, the 'Admiral' pulled at the rug again, and the
glare and the figures beneath the tent were obliterated. David gently
removed one of the ponderous volumes, stretched his arm through the
opening, and possessed himself of the Browning revolver.

'So far, so good!' he thought. 'Now to get out of the place. Wonder
whether I could climb over the glass partition? No, wouldn't do; I
should be seen by Henricksen at once.'

He forgot for the second that the ruffian who went by that name, and who
in his everyday life was looked upon as a clever and capable salesman in
the store, was at that moment wearing dark spectacles, through which he
could see nothing but the glare of the acetylene flame. David failed to
remember that, even armed with those glasses, the glare was such that a
man manipulating the blow-pipe would require a few moments rest to
accustom his eyes to lesser illumination. Then the thought occurred to
him. He stretched his neck round the edge of the bookcase, and caught a
glimpse of the flame. Its brilliance was intense. It caused his pupils
to contract with painful suddenness, and turning his head away, he found
that everything was a dark blank. For the moment his own eyes were
useless. The experience emboldened him.

'I'll creep out and across the office behind the tent,' he said. 'Then
I'll dodge the Russian Spolikoff. Ah! what's that?'

A motor horn sounded suddenly out in the street, and he heard the rattle
of a passing automobile. The next instant there came a sharp click,
which was easily heard above the gentle roar of the oxy-acetylene flame.
Promptly the glare died down. Henricksen had manipulated the taps and
had shut down the gas.

'Stay still,' David heard him whisper to the man known as the
'Admiral.' 'It's a policeman inspecting. He won't see the glare; he
couldn't with this tent. What's he making all that noise about?'

It was Constable Hemming without a doubt, and if the truth had been
guessed at, the honest fellow had suddenly become fearful for the safety
of our hero. There was a second constable on duty with him, patrolling
the outskirts of the store, and the latter had reported a sudden glare
within. Hemming was sceptical; but he went at once to the letter-box,
and opened the flap with a loud click. Yes, there did seem to be a glare
over the manager's office, he thought, but it died away at once.

'He's been having a feed,' he suggested to his comrade. 'Switched on a
light in the office for a while, and then turned it out again. He'll
have heard the latch go, he'd have shouted if there was trouble.'

But the sound he had made had been sufficient to alarm Henricksen and
his comrades. David saw the 'Admiral' suddenly crouch close to the floor
and grope in his pocket. Henricksen tore his glasses from his eyes, and
emerging from the tent, groped on the desk for the weapon he had left
there. A growl escaped him as he failed to find it. His fingers ran over
the leather surface, over the pens and ink bottle and paper, but still
they were unsuccessful. Then he turned to his comrade.

'That fellow made a heap of noise,' he said. 'I thought he might be
suspicious. Suppose he didn't see or hear Spolikoff; but where's my
Browning? I could swear that I left it on the desk here.'

'I saw you,' came the answer. 'You put it down close to the ink bottle:
ain't it there?'

'Not a sign of it. Can't very well see yet, for that glare is terrific
in spite of smoked glasses. But I've run my fingers everywhere, and
there's no shooter. Spolikoff's taken it perhaps.'

Meanwhile, David had crouched behind the bookcase again, and for the
moment almost shivered. It was true that he was now armed; but would
that help him against such miscreants, considering he was like a rat in
a trap, hemmed in the closest quarters? He even thought wildly of making
a dash for the outside of the manager's office, and was bracing his
muscles for the effort, when a dusky figure came sliding in through the
glass doorway, to be detected instantly by our hero, but not so by the
others, for their backs were in that direction, while even if it had
been otherwise their eyes were still hardly fit for such a task.

'S-s-shish!' said the man, whispering. 'It's Spolikoff. A policeman came
to the opening and rattled. I dived down and sat still; then I managed
to get to a place where I could see through a chink in the shutters. Two
constables were talking outside. I saw them part and walk away along the
pavement. It's all clear again.'

The 'Admiral' gave vent to a sigh of relief, and wiped the sweat from
his forehead, while Henricksen turned round and stared hard at the man,
still unable to see him.

'You get back to that peep hole right away,' he commanded gruffly, 'and
watch out for the police. Give us a signal when they're coming. I'm
afraid they may see the glare. Did you walk off with my shooter?'

Spolikoff denied the charge promptly. 'Here's my own,' he said. 'But
perhaps Ovanovitch took it; he has a way of borrowing things! I will go
and ask him.'

'You'll just get right off to that peep hole,' he was commanded.
'Ovanovitch can hand over the gun when he comes down. Should say he'll
not be long; that place upstairs don't take long clearing. My! won't
this be a haul! I've done the firm in for a thousand pounds already
during the past six weeks. Monday's their day for banking, and I reckon
we shall clear double the amount once we get this safe open. Get along,
Spolikoff. Now, Admiral, put your back to it; we've a long job before
us.'

David breathed more easily as Henricksen gave up for the moment his
quest for the revolver. Then he watched the two men creep into the tent
again, and drag the side curtain still more round them. He waited till
the glare of the flame once more reached his eyes, and then began to
slide along to the far side of the bookcase. Bang! crash! A volume which
had been resting unbeknown to him on the very edge of the desk toppled
over at the movement, and went to the floor with a thud. Henricksen and
his comrade darted from beneath their covering as if they had been shot.

'What was it? What was it?' the former asked breathlessly, evidently
scared by the noise. 'Something fell quite close to us. Look about.'

But that was just exactly what they found a difficulty in doing, for
they had again donned their smoked spectacles, and had had their flame
playing on the safe. However, the 'Admiral' dropped on to his knees and
went groping about the floor close to the desk till his fingers came in
contact with the fallen book. A low guffaw broke from him.

'Here's what's caused all the pother,' he laughed. 'In searching for
that shooter you must have just balanced the book on the edge of the
desk. Of course it went bang: it would do--just to scare us. Blessed if
these glasses don't bother a fellow. Even now I can't see a thing; it's
all feeling. But it's a book all right, no mistake about it.'

Another growl came from Henricksen: he hated such interruptions. True,
he had had to put up with them before in the course of his criminal
career, but he imagined that by now he was hardened. It angered him to
find himself so easily scared. For the moment, too, he was almost
suspicious; the strange disappearance of his revolver, coupled with the
fallen book, tended to alarm him.

'I'm jumpy to-night,' he told himself, with an oath. 'Fact is, if I am
ever to be taken I'd fifty times rather have it elsewhere, and not here
where I'm at home as it were. Come along, let's get to at the job; it'll
take a couple of hours to work round this lock.'

A couple of hours: then David had plenty of time before him. Should he
stay where he was, and not risk further movement till matters had
settled down a little?

To be absolutely candid regarding him, there was doubt in his mind on
this occasion, doubt engendered by fear of what might happen. And who,
remembering all the circumstances, could feel surprise? Where he was
there was security. He had already had it proved to him that the back of
the bookcase was an excellent hiding-place. Why not stay there in
safety, then? Why not wait a little and see what turned up?

'Bah!'--he could have kicked himself--'Funking, are you?' he almost
growled aloud. 'Putting your tail between your legs because you are
afraid of these men--afraid when you've got a revolver! Gurr!'

He flicked beads of perspiration from the corners of his eyes, and once
more squeezed stealthily along behind the case. Yet again he caught the
glare of the oxy-acetylene flame, while the gentle buzz of the jet
struck upon his ear. Another motor car passed in the street with a gurr
and a blast from its horn; then there was silence. David reached the
edge of the case, looked cunningly about him, and stole straightway to
the door. He turned to watch the glare, and caught a glimpse of the
'Admiral's' leg as it showed beyond the curtain. Then he stared into the
main portion of the store looking eagerly for Spolikoff, but without
success.

'Got to dodge him,' he told himself. 'Got to reach the door and give the
alarm. Supposing I do? What'll happen?'

He was now some fifteen paces from the office, and stood for a few
seconds considering the question. What would the burglars do once the
alarm was given, and Constable Hemming had placed his key in the lock
and thrown the door open?

[Illustration: BURGLARS AT THE STORE]

'It's as clear as daylight,' thought David. 'They'll run below right
away. Perhaps they'll shoot as they go. In any case, they'll be out and
away before the police can guess what they're doing. I've got to put a
stop to that.'

He stole forward again in the direction of the door, wondering what
course he ought to pursue; then, as if doubtful, he turned towards the
entry to the stairway leading to the basement.

'Why not?' he asked himself. 'I'll go down there and--'

His hair almost stood on end; his heart seemed to stop abruptly and his
muscles felt paralysed all in one brief second; for a figure was coming
towards him, a dusky figure, sidling silently across the floor; and in a
flash he recognised the man. It was Spolikoff, the Russian, sent by
Henricksen to keep watch and ward.




CHAPTER V

London's Alien Criminals


If ever David Harbor had felt inclined to play the coward it was at the
precise moment, on this adventurous night when he came so abruptly, and
so unexpectedly, face to face with one of the men who were engaged in
robbing his employers' store. Behind him, in the office, he had left
Henricksen and the ruffian known as the 'Admiral' busily engaged with
their oxy-acetylene flame, eating a hole into the safe which they hoped
and imagined was well filled with gold. Upstairs was the man Ovanovitch,
clearing the cases of all their portable valuables, while here, on the
main floor, was Spolikoff, a Russian--a man given naturally to deeds of
violence--placed there to watch for the very police whom it was our
hero's object to summon. The very man from whom he wished to keep
farthest away was stealing towards him in the semi-darkness.

David drew in a deep breath. His hand clutched the revolver he had
managed to secure. With an effort he controlled his muscles.

'Run! Shout for help!' some one seemed to scream in his ear. 'Steady,'
he told himself, summoning all his pluck. 'Steady, my boy; play the
game. No use bolting; he'll be just as surprised as I am.'

But, as it turned out, there was no question of surprise. While David
was prepared for anything--to shoot at the man, to knock him to the
ground with his fist, to rush over towards the door and bang upon
it--Spolikoff sidled up to him, and spoke in a whisper that almost
cloaked his foreign accent.

'That you, Admiral?' he asked. 'They've passed again, those policemen;
but I didn't signal. There's no need; no one can see the glare now.
You've pulled the curtain round so well.'

David nodded. He was wondering whether he could trust himself to answer
the fellow, for it was obvious that his own identity was not even
suspected. Then, emboldened by that fact, he answered the man in a
hoarse whisper.

'I came along out here to make sure. It's fine, ain't it? Them police
couldn't suspect that we'd got a hot flame going against the safe. Look
here, my boy, Henricksen wants you to go along up to Ovanovitch and give
him a hand. When you've cleared the jewels, get away up to the next
floor. He says some new furs came in yesterday, and you could carry away
in your arms enough to keep you for a year. Get along quick.'

The Russian looked at him for a moment as if he suspected, though, as a
matter of fact, he was merely puzzling to translate the meaning of the
words, for as yet he was not an excellent English scholar.

'Get along up and help Ovanovitch, yes,' he repeated. 'Then--I did not
follow--you said?'

'S-s-sh! The police!'

There came a sudden rattle at the letter-box, whereat both he and the
Russian sank promptly to the ground, while David imagined that a faint
light over by the office lessened. Then there was silence again. A heavy
footfall was heard on the pavement, and after it, silence once more.
Slowly he and the Russian rose to their feet.

'What was it?' asked the man. 'You said I was to help Ovanovitch.'

'Listen,' whispered David, speaking very plainly, 'help Ovanovitch with
the jewels.'

'Yes, yes; I have that'

'Then take him to the floor up above.'

'Floor up above. Yes, yes; I have that too.'

'Where you will find some valuable furs brought in only yesterday.'

'Only yesterday, furs; valuable furs. Yes; go on.'

'You can carry enough away on your arm to make you rich for a year. Got
it?'

Spolikoff nodded vigorously, and gave expression to some guttural words
of approval.

'Now?' he asked. 'You watch here?'

'Yes,' said David, 'Go at once; no need to hurry back.'

His hand was shaking ever so little as he took the Russian by the sleeve
and urged him towards the stairs; for the feeble light above the place
had suddenly shown him another figure. The man was descending the
stairs, and was almost at the bottom. David could see that a bundle was
suspended over his back. It was Ovanovitch without doubt, descending
now that his task was completed.

'Tell him; go up at once,' David managed to whisper, though his tongue
almost stuck to the roof of his mouth. 'I am going back to Henricksen.'

He slid off at once, slipped behind a huge showcase, and then stared
back through the glass at the two Russians. And as he did so the tight
feeling about his chest and neck slowly lessened. He drew in the first
comfortable breath he had taken for some minutes. A sigh almost escaped
him; for Spolikoff had been absolutely deceived. It was clear that he
was not in the smallest degree suspicious. He had taken our hero for the
Admiral, and was obeying instructions in a manner almost child-like. He
went at once to Ovanovitch, and for a few seconds they whispered on the
stairs. Then they turned their backs to the ground floor and went up two
steps at a time, as if eager to get to their destination.

'Got 'em,' David could have shouted, though he restrained himself,
hugging his arms instead. 'Got 'em, I do believe. Now for the rest of
the business.' His brain had been working hard in the last few minutes,
and already he had mapped out a course of procedure. After all, that was
exactly like the young fellow; his friends knew him to be exceedingly
practical. Edward Harbor, his father, had endeavoured to train his boy
to conduct matters of any moment with sense and discretion.

'Decide first of all what you're going to do,' he had often said. 'Don't
start without a plan, all haphazard, and find when you are half way
through that matters aren't promising. Stand away a bit, as it were,
and have a clear view; then make your plans, and set to at the
business.' Practical? Of course it was. Common sense management? Who can
doubt it? A little advanced for one of David's age? Certainly, if you
wish so to describe it. But that is worth remedying. Others can be
trained as our hero had been, and the training has its undoubted
advantages; for a practical young fellow is of infinitely greater value
in these strenuous days than a lad always wool-gathering, who lacks
energy and initiative, who begins a task only to fail, who succeeds only
where a course of procedure has been already laid down, and when
previous practice has made perfect. It is the uncertainties we want to
train our lads to face, as well as the hum-drum certainties of this
life.

'Got 'em,' David ejaculated again, in a deep whisper. 'Now to close the
holes and divide the conspirators. First downstairs--that is the main
burrow I have to see to.'

He had lost all his trepidation now. True, he was more than a little
excited; but his hand no longer shook. He had seen already the
possibilities of making a gigantic success of what had at first appeared
to be an enormously difficult task. Straightway he stole across to the
stairway leading to the basement, and tripped down three steps at a
time. Then he ran across to the cupboard through which the four men had
gained access to the store. Out came his electric torch, and a beam was
flashed into the interior.

'As I thought: these fellows must have hired a house or a room in one
of the buildings lying up against this place, and have knocked a hole
clean through the wall. Then they cut through the back of the cupboard.
No; no they didn't; they bored holes through the wood in a big circle,
and so managed to remove a piece without making a sound. If they had
employed a saw I should have heard them. Now, I shut the cupboard, and
lock the door.'

It was not a flimsy affair, this cupboard, but a strongly built piece of
furniture, firmly attached to the wall, and having doors which slid
along in grooves. David gently moved the doors into place, found a key
in the lock, and shot the bolt to. Then he tried to open the cupboard.
It was closed and defied his efforts.

'Number one loop hole gone,' he said. 'Now for the warning and number
two.'

He had planned out the whole course of movement, and came hopping up the
stairs again, three at a time. A quick glance told him that the
oxy-acetylene flame was still in use. A dull glow on the ceiling told
its tale without shadow of error, while as he listened a gentle buzz
came to his ear. From the upper floor there was not so much as a sound.
At once he crossed to the door, and pulled the flap of the letter-box
open. Click! Down went the glare over by the manager's office. Lying
prone on the floor, and staring in that direction, David saw a man's
head protruding from the opening. Then the fellow stepped out and stood
listening. A whisper came to his ear, and at once the Admiral--for he it
was without doubt--slid back into the manager's office to help in the
task of forcing the safe. The reflection on the ceiling told its tale
again promptly.

'Out with the life preserver, and then upstairs,' said David. 'No time
to wait; those fellows will have found their furs by now.'

Very craftily he pushed the end of the life preserver through the flap,
and left it wedged in position. Then he ran across the floor to the
stairs and raced up them. Passing the first floor, he was soon at the
entrance to the second. And as he reached it his eyes fell on the two
figures of the Russians. They were staggering along the centre passage
between the glass show cases, their arms piled with furs. They were
thirty paces away, perhaps, whispering as they came.

Dare he do it? Dare he pull the door of this portion of the store to in
their faces?

David closed his teeth with a firm click; his chin assumed that very
bulldog squareness for which he was notorious. He stepped coolly into
the opening, gripped the iron fire door, with which the entrance to
every one of the departments of the store was furnished, and brought it
to with a bang. The hand-operated latch went to its socket with a
scrunch. The door was fast. Number two loop hole was closed. The
burglars were inevitably separated.

'And now for the last move.'

Conscious that the noise he had made might well have reached Henricksen,
and yet hopeful that it had not done so, David descended the stairs
faster than ever before in his life. He reached the ground floor just as
a sound came from the letter-box. He fancied he heard voices outside. He
was sure that the oxy-acetylene flame was working, and at that second
watched as its reflection seemed to be wiped away from the ceiling above
the manager's office. Then he did a smart thing. He opened the outside
doors of the lift with a bang, leaped in, and ran the elevator up till
it was half way through the gap leading to the first floor. He brought
it to a rest there with a sudden jerk, and throwing himself flat on its
floor, levelled his weapon at the door of the manager's office. And by
then there was a commotion in that direction. Two figures come
helter-skelter from the opening, their hands held before them, their
smoked glasses already torn from their faces. At the same instant there
came the sound of a key in a lock, and then the main entrance of the
store was burst open.

'Stop there, Henricksen and the Admiral!' David shouted. 'Stop where you
are or I fire. Constable, hold the door, I have closed the other
places.'

Ping! Bang! From some point up above our hero, there came a revolver
shot, and he heard the missile thud against the roof of the elevator and
tinkle on to the floor near him. Ping! A second came, and then he felt
the elevator moving. It was ascending. Some one had put it into
operation from above. At once he guessed what had happened. The two
Russians, shut into the fur department, had heard the lift working. They
had torn the doors open, and reaching through had gripped the rope by
means of which it was operated. David at one sprang to his feet and
gripped the handle which operated the rope. Instantly he brought the
machine to a stop, and turning the handle again, brought the elevator
back to its former position, a shot coming from above as he did so.
Then he cast his eyes into the store, and at once took in the position,
which had altered in the space of a few seconds. There were two
constables at the door, Hemming and another, the latter of whom was at
that moment lustily blowing his whistle. At the entrance to the stairs
leading to the basement stood the Admiral, a revolver in his hands,
while the other rascal was nowhere visible; but a minute later he came
racing up the stairs, and burst into the department.

'Give me the shooter,' he cried, breathlessly. 'They've shut the
cupboard below and boxed us in. Give it me. I'm not afraid to use it.'

He seized the weapon from his comrade's hand, and in an instant there
was a flash. The constable blowing his whistle staggered into the
doorway. David at once leaned forward, levelled his own weapon, and
pulled on the trigger. And in the space of a second he had ejected three
bullets in the direction of Henricksen; for his was an automatic pistol,
the class of weapon that wants careful controlling, and which will fire
seven shots in less number of seconds, automatically moving a fresh
cartridge into position after each shot. Certainly the bullets astounded
David, and Henricksen also. He swung round, and then our hero knew what
it was to be under fire. Something hissed past his cheek. The hair on
his head stirred restlessly. A red-hot brand appeared to have been of a
sudden thrust right through his body. But he was game to the last. He
leaned over a little, fixed his revolver sights as well as he was able,
and pressed his trigger again.

An instant later Henricksen went staggering up against one of the glass
show cases. He upset the whole affair, and came crashing to the floor
with glass smashing and splintering all about him; then his comrade
darted forward, and stooped to pick up the weapon which he had dropped.

'Stand away from that place,' David commanded hoarsely. 'I'll drop you,
Admiral, as sure as you move a step. Now, hands up above your head.'

'Admiral, Admiral, what's that?' came from the doorway. 'Where are you,
David Harbor?'

'In the lift, half way up,' our hero called out, wondering vaguely at
the weakness of his own voice. 'Half way up, Hemming. The man who fired
at you, and whom I have just sent down is Henricksen, one of the
employees here. The fellow with his arms up is known as the Admiral.'

'Phew.' There came a shrill whistle from Hemming. 'The Admiral did you
say? Wanted in a dozen capitals. Swindler, forger, burglar, everything.'

'And two Russians upstairs, whom I have trapped in the fur department.
Now, Hemming, got those handcuffs?'

Feeling curiously shaky David touched the handle of the lift again, and
brought it down to the floor level, unmindful of the shots which still
came from above. And all the while he held his weapon directed at the
man standing so close to Henricksen.

'Now, Hemming,' he called out. 'Shut the door, or he might try to bolt.
Slip the handcuffs on him; but first of all, switch on the lights just
inside the door.'

It was all done in a few moments. Constable Hemming was a sharp officer,
and was not above taking advice or instructions from any one. He flooded
the store with light with one movement of his finger. Then there came
the metallic ring of steel. Something bright flashed under the electric
lamps, while the officer strode across the floor, banging the door
behind him. Click. One of the bracelets went over the wrist of the
disconsolate Admiral.

'Come you along here,' commanded Hemming, dragging the man across to a
radiator, bolted to the floor. 'Put that other hand there. Now, move if
you can. You'll have to take the house with you.'

He passed the end of his chain through an interval in the radiator, and
clicked the bracelet over the man's other wrist, leaving the Admiral
firmly chained to the place.

'What now?' he demanded. 'Guess you've made a haul here. The Admiral!
Gosh! The most wanted of 'em all! This is a doing!'

'Get to the door and open it. First, though, pick up that shooter,' said
David. 'Don't forget that we have those Russian fellows upstairs.'

'Russians! Who? Where?' demanded Hemming, his face expressing unbounded
surprise.

'Spolikoff and Ovanovitch, two men of about thirty years of age, dark
complexioned, wearing black moustaches,' answered David, staggering out
of the lift. 'They've done nothing but fire down on me. The top of the
lift is like a sieve.'

He tripped as he stepped, and went staggering up against one of the show
cases, to which his fingers clung. Meanwhile Hemming stood back
exclaiming.

'Spolikoff! Ovanovitch! Russians. Men of about thirty. Dark. Dark
moustaches--Mister Harbor, you've hit up against a fine crowd. The
wonder is that they haven't made mincemeat of you. Spolikoff and
Ovanovitch! Notorious anarchists; burglars who have been cracking cribs
up and down this country.'

He wiped his forehead with a brilliantly red handkerchief which he
withdrew from the inside of his helmet, and puffed cheeks and lips out.
It was a staggerer to Constable Hemming, this capture which he and David
were making. Then he walked across to the door as if he were in a dream,
and opened it just as three constables arrived on the scene.

'We heard the whistle and came along,' explained one. 'Crispen lay on
the mat. He's hit in the head; a bad scalp wound I should say. We've
applied a first dressing. He's sitting with his back against the wall,
feeling chippy. What's all this?'

'What's all this!' Constable Hemming could hardly contain himself.
'What's all this!' he gasped again. 'Why, just a fine capture! You know
there's been a young fellow watching. Bless me, he's cornered the
Admiral. I've got the bracelets on that gentleman and have chained him
fast to the radiator. There's one of the fellows down, while upstairs,
barred in, are two Russians, the two Russians we have been after this
many a day--Spolikoff and Ovanovitch.'

There was no doubt that the news impressed his comrades, who came
crowding into the store after Hemming.

'They'll shoot at sight,' said one of the constables, as they discussed
the matter. 'How are we to nab them?'

'Let's ask Harbor. Harbor,' shouted Hemming, coming across the store,
while a further reinforcement of half a dozen police officers poured in
at the door. 'Where is he?'

They discovered David grovelling on his knees, looking particularly
white about the gills.

'Felt a little upset,' he explained lamely. 'What's happened? Have you
taken the Russians?'

There was little doubt but that he had actually lost consciousness while
the officers were discussing matters, and now was puzzled to know what
they had been doing. Hemming helped him to his feet and looked sharply
at his lodger. He wondered what had caused David to fall to the floor,
and never guessed the reason.

'Too much excitement, perhaps,' he thought 'Anyway, we'll give him a
draft. Here, Sergeant, some sal volatile for this youngster.'

They mixed the stuff before his face, and David drained the glass at a
gulp.

'Now,' he gasped. 'Those Russians?'

'They're upstairs right enough,' said the sergeant. 'I heard 'em a
moment ago. How are they placed? Give us an idea as to how we can get at
them? Suppose they're armed?'

The young fellow, looking so exceedingly pale still, took the officer
by the sleeve and led him into the lift. Then he switched on the light
and invited him to inspect the roof.

'Goodness! There are a dozen holes, bullet holes. And--blood on the
floor. Whose? Yours?'

He swung round on David instantly, and like Hemming treated him to a
very critical stare.

'A mere nothing,' said our hero, somewhat feebly, smiling all the same.

'Set men to watch all round the place.'

'Done already,' came the prompt answer. 'I placed the men as soon as we
heard there was an alarm.'

'Put two at the entrance to the basement staircase, and send two more
down to the large cupboard with its back to the wall--here's the key.
Let them go through the hole these burglars entered by, at the back of
the cupboard, and learn what happened there, whose premises they are,
and all that.'

'He's like an officer,' cried the sergeant. 'Hole in the wall! You don't
mean to say these fellows broke through from outside premises, and
cloaked the entrance by means of a cupboard? That looks like an inside
accomplice.'

'He's there,' said David promptly, jerking his finger at the form lying
amid the debris of broken glass and the contents of the overturned case.
'Henricksen we knew him as; from the jewellery department. Sergeant,
there's a steel flap on the outside of the fire doors I closed on those
Russians. Second floor, don't forget. A man might see them through it.
Then we might rush them through the door or get at them by the lift.'

It took but a few minutes to prepare their plans. The sergeant relieved
David of his revolver, and himself went to the door upstairs, reporting
that the Russians were to be seen at the far end of the store. Then
Hemming joined him, while a constable was sent off to the nearest
station to procure more arms. By the time he was back again there were
fifty constables on the scene, the outside of the house as well as the
inside being guarded. As for our hero, that he was wounded by
Henricksen's shot he knew, and no doubt the shock and loss of blood had
caused him to lose consciousness. But he had got over that now. The
draught he had received had revived him wonderfully, and that and the
desire to see the matter to its very end kept him bright and smiling. He
took a revolver from one of the officers, and at a signal from the
sergeant above, set the lift in motion. With him there was an inspector
and four officers, all armed with revolvers.

'The sergeant and Hemming have orders to fire if the men do not halt at
their order,' said the former. 'You can take us clear up, please. We're
going to rush them.'

He had hardly spoken, the elevator had not reached the level of the
first floor when there was a loud call from above. Dull reports were
heard, and then two sharp explosions. David jerked the handle over and
sent the lift shooting up. With another jerk he brought it to a stand
still at the second floor, and threw the doors open. Instantly all the
occupants burst out. But, fortunately for them, there was no need for
fire-arms. The sergeant had managed the situation with wonderful skill.
He had seen the two Russians running towards him, and waiting till they
were near enough, had ordered them to stop. Shots at once answered him,
the bullets crashing against the door. And then he had sent two in
return. Only two, but with the desired effect. Spolikoff dropped his
weapon and nursed his right arm. Ovanovitch plunged forward heavily and
fell on his face. In two minutes they were securely in the hands of the
police.

When Hemming and the inspector, together with the manager of the store,
hastily summoned to the scene by the police, went in search of David,
they found him huddled in a corner of the room, as white as a sheet,
bleeding slowly from the mouth.

'Chest wound,' said the inspector, gripping the situation with an
experienced eye. 'We have a surgeon below; I'll send for him.'

When our hero came to his senses he was lying in a beautifully
comfortable bed, with bright rays from a warm fire playing on him. A
nurse stood near at hand, and beside her, discussing some matter very
seriously, was some man whose features seemed to be familiar. David
puzzled wonderfully. He began to fret about the matter; then, fatigued
by even such a little thing, he went off into a blissful slumber.

'The best of everything, please, nurse,' said the manager of the store,
before he departed. 'Order anything you want. I will be responsible for
all expenses. And please do send constant information to the porter at
the lodge. I am arranging with him to 'phone to me constantly.'

'Wouldn't lose that lad for a whole heap,' he told Hemming, when the
latter was ensconced in his office with the manager of the store. 'He
did magnificently; splendid pluck and resource he showed; seemed to have
worked his plans out like a general. I feel horrible about the matter;
as if by offering such a bright young fellow such a job I was
accountable for his wound. Certainly, I'll send you a wire every three
hours, saying how he is progressing.'

Yes, David had made a stir in the London world. Mr. Ebenezer's none too
handsome face went scarlet when he read the accounts, and saw the
photograph of our hero in the papers. He blew his huge nose violently,
then he sat down and stared moodily into the fire. David Harbor had
already become an excessively big thorn in this gentleman's side.




CHAPTER VI

The Professor makes a Suggestion


'So you've been fighting again, have you?' quizzed Mr. Jones, when he
came to visit David in the accident ward of the general hospital, to
which he had been conveyed straight from the store. 'And this time there
has been real bloodshed. Do you know that you have lain here precisely
four weeks, two days short of a complete month?'

'And a precious long time it does begin to feel,' came the joking
answer, for the patient so ill but a short while before was now well on
the high road to recovery. 'I'm just longing to be out again. To-morrow
I get up; in a week I am to be allowed out in the park. In two I shall
be back at my lodgings.'

'Perhaps,' agreed Mr. Jones, drawling the word in a manner decidedly
professional. 'If you are well enough. If not--well, no matter for the
moment. But you are strong enough to sign your name; listen to what I
read, and sign if you agree. Of course, I am not going to bother you
with a number of details. You can rely upon me implicitly; I will manage
things for you.'

He rapidly intimated certain matters to David in connection with the
letter he had had from his father, and the will which Mr. Ebenezer
Clayhill was so anxious to have settled. Then he obtained our hero's
signature.

'The next thing you will hear about the matter will be from the papers,'
said Mr. Jones, as he bade farewell. 'I hope we shall be successful.'

Imagine the interest of the public when it leaked out that the hero of
the burglary near Bond Street was also the claimant through his
solicitor to have the execution of a certain will delayed. The papers
rapidly obtained the whole story; for Mr. Jones, though accustomed, as a
rule, to professional taciturnness and silence, now opened his lips with
a will, and told the whole story as he knew it.

'Not that the tale will affect the judgment of this matter,' he told his
friends. 'British justice is too evenly balanced for such a thing; but
it will gain more friends for the boy. It will put his case as it is,
not as others might garble it, and will obtain the sympathy of all.'

And sympathy it did gain for our hero. Not only that; for information
having been received he would be out of hospital very shortly, the case
was put back for trial on a later date, no special reason being given.

'Unless, of course, the Judge and jury are anxious to see you,' laughed
Mr. Jones, coming to see David again, and quizzing as was his wont. 'But
I'm glad to hear you are doing so well. In a week you come home.'

'Home,' said David. 'Yes, to Constable Hemming's. He's been here to
arrange.'

'Home with me,' interrupted Mr. Jones, placidly. 'You must understand
that you are an invalid as yet. You require care and comfortable
surroundings. Not that I assert that Constable Hemming would deny you
those; but you will obtain them to greater degree where I live, in the
country, outside London. Hemming knows of the suggestion and approves.
By the way, he's Sergeant Hemming now--promoted for his share in the
work of capturing those men. Now I'll see the House Surgeon and get his
report.'

'Oh, David?' said the latter, cheerily, when accosted by the solicitor.
'Davie is going strong; we've had him examined under the Roentgen Rays.
The bullet struck the fourth rib on the left side, and ought to have
killed him outright. But he has luck; he was born to be lucky it seems.
The bullet turned along the rib, left it half way back, and emerged. The
trouble with him is that the rib was fractured, and one of the broken
ends pierced the lung. Hence bleeding from the mouth and other nasty and
troublesome symptoms; but he'll do now if he takes it easy for another
month. When can he go out, Mr. Jones? Let us say in a week's time.'

Accordingly David was driven away from the hospital at the termination
of that period, deeply grateful for all the care and kindness shown him,
and leaving many a friend behind. A motor car conveyed him to Mr. Jones'
house, and thereafter he came under the care of that gentleman's wife.
Three weeks later he attended the inquest on Henricksen, and there for
the first time gave a description of how he had seen the burglars come
into the store, and of how he had been forced to hide himself. Then
followed the trial of the Admiral and of Spolikoff and Ovanovitch, the
latter two having by then recovered from their wounds. Needless to say
both Judge and jury highly commended the behaviour of our hero.

'Of course, we don't expect that you will care to come back to us,' said
the manager of the store, when the trial was finished, 'though if you
wish to come, we shall be glad to have you. But you are so well off now
that you can look for something better. To begin with, our directors
have handed me a cheque for one hundred pounds, to be paid at once to
you.'

David coughed at the intimation. It made him breathe so deeply that his
already healed wound pained him. 'One hundred pounds,' he gasped.
'That's enough to take me to China.'

'Hardly, I think; but there is some more. Spolikoff and Ovanovitch were
much wanted by the police for extradition to their own country. They are
a dangerous class of criminal who have infested this country of late. In
Russia they were Anarchists, and are known to have held up and robbed a
train. Russia became too hot for them, and so they came to these
hospitable shores to continue robbing. There was a reward offered for
their apprehension. You, of course, obtain that. The sum is three
hundred pounds.'

Little wonder that David gasped again. When he agreed to remain on watch
at the store he was almost penniless. True, he had a few pounds by him,
as well as a bicycle, while there was always the small allowance which
was due to him; but the prospect of earning much was by no means
brilliant. And here were four hundred pounds--four hundred shining
sovereigns, to do with as he liked, to pay his passage to China if he
wished it.

'Then off I go to China!' he cried, when he had recovered from his
astonishment at such good fortune. 'I'll sail on the first opportunity.'

'Which means that you will go when I, as your appointed guardian, allow
you to do so,' exclaimed Mr. Jones, severely, endeavouring to hide a
smile; for David's eagerness and enthusiasm delighted this gentleman.
Mr. Jones was the sort of man whom a stranger would imagine never even
smiled, much less laughed outright. David had himself always considered
him somewhat of a wet blanket; but he did not know him so well then. As
a matter of fact the solicitor was the prince of good fellows, and
kind-hearted to a degree. And it was true that he had constituted
himself David's guardian.

'Till the court has put me in that position officially,' he said, 'and,
of course, till you are fit again; for then I am well aware that you
will kick over the traces, and put up with no interference. Now, David,
hand over that money to me. I'll give you a formal receipt for it, and
when you need money you can have it, and without a question. For the
moment I'll take care of it. Golden sovereigns have a way of burning
holes in the pockets of young people.'

When at length the case in which our hero was so interested came before
the courts, he was perfectly restored to health; and his straightforward
evidence, the narrative of how he had set out from home to make his own
way in the world, and his adventures _en route_ won for him the
good-will of hosts of people. The whole case read like a romance, and
proved wonderfully attractive, while Mr. Ebenezer, who was compelled to
give evidence, as was also his wife, provided the villains to this
all-absorbing drama. Then came the intimation that David had decided to
go to China, there to make inquiries and search for his father's will.

'As a sensible man I suppose I ought to throw cold water on that
scheme,' declared the judge, 'but, honestly, it has my sympathy. I like
the pluck of the claimant.'

It appeared that others did also. For while Mr. and Mrs. Ebenezer
Clayhill were thoroughly exposed, and held up to public execration,
David became more of a hero, and the following day received a most
important letter.

     'DEAR SIR'--it ran--'Having read the facts of your appeal to the
     courts, and being, moreover, an old friend of your father's, I have
     the pleasure to offer you a post on the staff I am collecting to
     take to China. We go to investigate old Mongolian Cities, the ruins
     of which have been long since located. I understand that your
     father was also interested in this work. We sail in rather less
     than a month, and should you accept this proposal, your passage
     will be paid, as also the return, while the question of salary can
     be arranged in the immediate future. Kindly write by return.'

David telegraphed. 'Coming. Delighted,' he sent, laconically, though he
was not given as a rule to such abruptness, while the following morning
found him at the address which headed the letter he had received. A
short, stout, clean-shaven man rose from a seat as he was announced and
advanced towards him with outstretched hand.

'David Harbor?' he asked, with a welcoming smile.

'Yes, sir. Come on the receipt of a letter from Professor Padmore.
Is--er--are you--?'

The little gentleman laughed outright now, beaming on our hero, while
his fleshy chin shook visibly. 'Am I the Professor?' he shouted, putting
a hand on David's shoulder. 'You don't think I look like one, now do
you? Admit to that. As a Professor I should be as bald as a coot, wear
enormous goggles, stutter a trifle, and be somewhat deaf. Eh! isn't that
it?'

David couldn't help laughing; the little man's good temper was strangely
infectious. Nor did he attempt to deny what had been said; it was true
enough. Professors were often enough the class of individual painted by
this gentleman. 'You're so different, sir,' he blurted out. 'You're----'

'I'm Professor Padmore, a terrible person, I do assure you,' chuckled
the little man, 'and I happen also to have been a friend of your
father's. A fine man, David, a gallant fellow, but rash, a trifle rash.
Trusted the Chinese too far. That was the cause of the whole trouble.
Well now, sit down. Smoke?'

He held out a cigarette case, but David shook his head.

'Never mind then,' smiled the Professor. 'No harm if you don't. You may
later on. You're plenty young enough yet--too young, in fact. Boys who
smoke are fools, fools, sir, with a capital F to it. But I wrote you,
yes, I saw the name in the paper, and was attracted by the case. It was
so unusual, the majority of such disputes are so commonplace. All are
sordid; this one had peculiar features. It so happened, too, that I was
wanting a young fellow, a gentleman, you understand, to come out to
China with me. Well then, there you were, openly stating your desire to
go to China. You were just the man for my situation, while I was just
the opportunity you were looking for. Good; I wrote. You are coming;
there'll be danger and hardships innumerable.'

He had lit a cigarette by now, and turned on the hearth rug at his final
words to stare hard at David. He found the latter laughing.

'Eh? What?' he asked pleasantly.

'Nothing, sir,' declared David, 'only everything is so jolly and so
pleasant I was just thinking then that you were just the reverse of the
usual Professor. You ought to be very severe and unbending to young
fellows.'

'Whereas I am not. Exactly so; to tell the truth I feel young myself, as
young as you do, and try hard to forget that the years are going along,
and that I am getting stouter as they go. But I can be severe. David,
there will be many dangers to be faced, and many hardships. I want you
to know that I want you to be fully prepared. And though I am pleasant
enough as a general rule, there is one thing to learn--without
discipline, without one recognised leader, and one only, no expedition
can be a success. This expedition must succeed. I have led several
others, but this is more important than all. Absolute obedience to my
orders must be the rule, and you must be prepared to give it.'

For a few brief seconds the character of the little man seemed to have
entirely changed, while certainly his facial appearance had done so. For
of a sudden he became stern. Lines wove themselves across his forehead,
while the half-closed eyes regarded David in a manner which impressed
him. He realised then, if he had not done so before, that Professor
Padmore could be a very different gentleman to the jolly individual who
had welcomed him a few minutes earlier, could be stern and dictatorial,
and could lead men whenever needed, and however pressing the danger.

'I am prepared to give the same obedience I should give in the army,'
said David, soberly. 'As for the dangers and hardships, they come in in
the day's work. I do not look for ease and enjoyment out in China. My
business is serious. I shall not succeed with it until I have travelled
far and had many an adventure.'

'Then you will do for me. Sit down there; now for your salary.'

It took but a few moments to decide that item, and then the Professor
proceeded to outline his project.

'There are these Mongolian cities,' he said. 'Well, I have already done
some excavating, and have brought some rare objects home with me; but
there are thousands still lying buried for every one we have unearthed.
We go to find them. Our ship carries us to Hong-Kong. There we
disembark and remain for a while till we have obtained the necessary
servants, some of whom I have employed before. Then we take steamer for
Shanghai, and finally travel to Pekin. When we leave the city for the
north, our real work will begin. You still wish to come? You are not
frightened?'

David laughed again. He could not help himself; for the Professor was
once more the jovial, pleasant comrade, treating the young fellow as if
he himself were one also. 'I will come, and only too happy to be one of
the party, sir,' he said. 'How many do you take?'

'We shall be four sailing from England. When we march from Pekin there
should be twenty of us all told. Labourers for the task of digging can
be obtained at the various spots we visit. Now for an outfit I shall
purchase that for you; I have a list by which I always go. Long
experience has taught me what is wanted.'

It was no use for David to exclaim at such generosity, and to mention
the fact that he had plenty of money. The Professor silenced him at
once.

'Put it away, sir,' he said. 'Put it into a safe investment. Don't worry
about it till you come home. By then it will have grown wonderfully. But
come along now; we'll drive to the house which always provides my
equipment.'

When David returned to Mr. Jones' roof that evening he had been measured
for a couple of thick tweed suits, of a brownish, khaki colour. Likewise
for two pairs of strong boots and gaiters.

'The shirts and things of that description we can get ready made,' the
Professor said. 'In the hot weather you will wear cotton only, and that
sort of thing is best obtained in China. In the very cold weather, and
often at other times, we shall wear native costume. Now you will want a
magazine pistol, of the same pattern as carried by us all, thus
necessitating only one class of ammunition for that sort of weapon, a
rifle, and a gun. Those, with a compass, will complete your equipment.
Come here in a week's time, and we will see the clothes tried on.'

Those were busy days for our hero. There seemed a thousand and one
things to be done, so much so that the hours flew. But at last the most
exciting day of all arrived. He bade farewell to Mr. and Mrs. Jones, and
went over the river to see Sergeant Hemming and his wife. Then he joined
the Professor, and together they drove to the docks. It was not till the
following morning, when they were well away at sea, that David was
introduced to the two who were, besides the Professor, to be his
travelling companions, and who went to complete the staff of the
expedition going to China to investigate Mongolian ruins.

'David,' shouted the Professor, unceremoniously, as he leaned against
the ship's rail talking with a passenger, 'come along and meet one of
the band. Dick, this is David. David, Dick. Shake hands.'

'You! Why, this beats me altogether!'

The passenger who had been conversing with the Professor swung round,
smiling, as the words were spoken, and stretched out his hand; but the
instant his eyes fell on our hero he started back in amazement. The
next second he had leaped forward, and was shaking David's hand as if he
would never cease.

'You! David Harbor of all people! You and I to be travelling companions,
on the staff of the same expedition. This is too good!'

It was Dick Cartwell, the young fellow to whom David had taken such a
fancy on his eventful ride up to London, the son of the lady who had so
narrowly escaped an accident in a runaway brougham.

'Ripping!' ejaculated David on his part, delighted beyond anything. 'I
never asked the name of the other fellow. Just fancy it's being you!
What a time we shall have together!'

'Perhaps,' said the Professor, smiling at the keenness and the
friendship displayed by the two, and delighted beyond measure to find
that they knew one another, 'perhaps you will have the goodness to
explain. When Dick Cartwell came to me and begged of me to take him on
this trip, I hesitated.'

He looked severely at the handsome young fellow, though there was a
smile on his lips.

'I say!' exclaimed Dick, protesting.

'I hesitated,' went on the Professor, silencing Dick with uplifted
finger. 'I said to myself, I want a man, a steady man, used to
expeditions. Besides, I had just read about a certain David Harbor,
quite a youngster, and I conceived that one young fellow would be ample
trouble and to spare. But I gave way, and here I find you known to one
another. Did David tell you to come to me, sir?'

Dick protested again, amid much laughter, and then turned abruptly on
the Professor. 'It's just all chance, sir,' he said. 'But the happiest
chance imaginable. David and I became acquainted only a little while
ago. He made my mother's acquaintance on the high road to London. There
was almost a nasty accident. He stepped in in the nick of time.'

'As he did in the case of the burglars. Tell me all about it,' asked the
professor, in the peculiar jerky way he had. 'And so you saved those
ladies, David,' he said, a little later, becoming serious. 'I'm glad;
you have shown now on more than one occasion that you have a cool head
on your shoulders, and that is just what is wanted out in China. I hope
Dick will cultivate similar coolness, and joking apart, I'm delighted to
have you both with me. Now to introduce you to the other member of our
party. He has been with me once before, and is perfectly invaluable.
Here he comes. Alphonse, _mon cher_.'

The jovial Professor had set his eyes on the quaintest figure of a man
imaginable, and called to him as he promenaded the deck. And at his
summons the passenger approached David and Dick and their employer in
the most humorous manner. A little man, smaller in fact than the
Professor, Alphonse was remarkably broad. His shoulders were
extraordinary in their width, while one was struck by the fact that his
head--a tiny, bullet-like head, covered with the shortest, bristly crop
of hair, which stood upright everywhere--was sunk deep between the
shoulders. For the rest, an extremely ample waistcoat expanse, short,
thick legs, which nevertheless moved very swiftly, and a most engaging
face made up the personality of Alphonse. From the long, pointed toes
of his French boots, to the crown of his stubble-covered head, the
passenger was an oddity, while voice and jesture added to his
eccentricity.

'Monsieur, I have the honour to hear you call,' said the little man,
advancing at the Professor's summons, with little prancing steps which
might have been employed by a professor of dancing, while he bowed
deeply, flourishing a cap with a mighty peak, again, like his boots and
his whole person, entirely and convincingly French in origin. 'You
called Alphonse.'

'To make him known to these two gentlemen. Alphonse, these are the two
who accompany us. I trust that they may be as well pleased with you when
our travels are over as I have been. Alphonse Pichart, David, Dick.'

The three shook hands eagerly, with vast enthusiasm in the case of the
Frenchman. Indeed, David found himself unconsciously wondering at the
little man, and marvelling whence came all his energy. And how the face
of Alphonse attracted him. Beneath the stubbly, shock head of hair was a
wide forehead, a pair of honest, sparkling, blue eyes, a good nose, and
strong mouth and chin.

Not a hair was visible on this shining, healthy-looking countenance till
one arrived at the chin, from which depended a peaky little beard, cut
very narrow and curling forward at the tip.

'I shall have the honour and the pleasure to serve all three, then. Eh?'
said Alphonse, backing and bowing once more, and replacing his hideous
hat with a flourish. 'Monsieur can rely on me. I shall see to every
one's comfort. And now, if Monsieur will permit, I go to the cabins to
unpack.'

The Professor dismissed him with a nod and a smile.

'The best of fellows,' he exclaimed. 'Came last expedition as cook and
valet.'

'Cook and valet!' exclaimed David, surprised that such individuals
should be necessary, when the members of the expedition were obviously
going to a part where they would have to rough it. 'I thought we should
do our own cooking, or have a Chinaman for the job. As for a valet, why,
clothes won't trouble us much I should think.'

'Perhaps not,' came the answer. 'But then, Alphonse is more cook than
valet. I shall tell you something. An army, it is said, lives on its
stomach. An exploring party does so, but in a different sense. The work
is sometimes arduous, and all our attention will be required. Very well,
one might have a good native cook. On the other hand one might very well
have a villainous one. See the result--uncooked food, dyspepsia; you and
I and Dick unfit for really good work. Lost time. Lost opportunities.
Besides, Alphonse does more than cook or valet. He is shrewd, and has an
abundance of courage. But you will see. He is the life and soul of the
expedition. He keeps us and himself all going.'

Before the ship had been at sea a whole week, Dick and David found this
to be very true; for Alphonse was always smiling, always humorous. And
if there happened to be nothing in his actual words to make one laugh,
his comical antics, his bows and flourishes always drew a smile, if not
a roar of laughter, at which the little man beamed, for he was never
angered.

No need to describe the voyage as far as Hong-Kong. It passed as other
voyages do, with numerous deck games amongst the passengers, an
occasional dance or concert, and one terrific gale, which swept the
decks clear of all but the crew and confined the passengers to the
saloon. Dick and David revelled in the movement of the ship. Not once
did they shy from the saloon when the hours for meals arrived, nor feel
squeamish.

'Just the lads for me,' the Professor told himself, rubbing his hands
together, his face shining with enjoyment and good health. 'Nothing
mamby pamby about them. They will prove excellent companions.'

At Hong-Kong the party transhipped to a coaster, and having reached
Shanghai chartered a native boat.

'Our journeying may be said to begin here,' said the Professor, as he
watched Alphonse arranging their belongings in the huge, roomy cabin
aft. 'We run up the coast to a certain spot abutting on a portion of the
Gulf of Pechili. Then we land and inspect certain ruins of which I have
heard. From thence we can return to Shanghai, and take the train to
Pekin, or we can journey overland. My lads, to-morrow we shall don our
rougher clothing.'

That cruise up the Gulf of Pechili proved to be a most enjoyable
experience, and David and his friend Dick made the most of every hour of
it. They fell in with the four native hands whom the Professor had
engaged at Hong-Kong, Chinese whom he had had in his service before, and
helped the crew of the huge, wide-built boat haul at the ropes, and
hoist extra canvas on her. Then, at the Professor's wish, they studied
the language for three hours every day, sitting amongst the men, or more
often with the four engaged with the expedition. And even a week, they
found, saw some improvement in their knowledge.

'You have only to stick to it and you will become excellent linguists,'
declared the Professor, 'and will find the power to converse most
valuable. As for your instructors, a Chinaman when he takes an interest
in anything is not to be beaten, and those servants of mine seem to have
made up their minds that you shall both learn to speak in a record short
time.'

Head and baffling winds delayed the progress of the boat immensely, so
that ten days after leaving Shanghai, she was only half way toward her
destination. Then there came a fair wind, lasting two whole days, which
bore her a long way in the right direction. But towards evening it fell
away altogether, leaving the huge native vessel wallowing in an oily
yellow swell, and slowly drifting landward.

'Nothing to do but wait and hope for a change for the better,' said
Alphonse. 'Monsieur the Professor can sleep; the other gentlemen can
work at the language. Already they know more than I, who have been
months and months in the country.'

But there were other things to attract the attention of our hero and his
friend beside the Chinese language. Indeed, that very night there was
an interruption. Awakening in the small hours David listened for a
moment to the flop of the swell as it heaved against the side of the
vessel. Then he heard a chain rattle, while, an instant later, a gentle
hail came across the water. Throwing off the mosquito curtain, under
which all now slept, he slid out of the deck cabin, and went to the
rail. There was a figure already there dimly seen against the places
where the swell broke at its summit and washed in white froth across the
surface. 'Hist!' David heard, and a moment later realised that it was
Alphonse.

'Ah, ha, that is Monsieur David? Good,' he heard the little Frenchman
whisper. 'I can trust Monsieur David. He has been in danger before; he
understands caution.'

'But--what is it? Why is there need for caution?' asked our hero,
careful to keep his voice low, and wondering what the Frenchman could
mean. 'I heard someone hail us; there must be another ship.'

At once Alphonse's arm swung out, he became as rigid as a board, while
he pointed towards the bows of the vessel.

'See there, Monsieur. You are right; there is a boat. She has come
alongside, and so silently that few of us have heard her. Does Monsieur
know what she is here for?'

David could not even guess, but then he had never been in the Gulf of
Pechili before. However, Alphonse knew the part, and had an idea of its
dangers.

'Listen, Monsieur,' he whispered. 'I saw a boat three days ago, and
thought I detected signals passing between us and her. She sailed right
out of sight, but that night a lantern flashed right ahead of this
vessel. To-night I detected the same, but knowing that there was a calm
I felt sure that none could approach us without our hearing, for they
would have to employ sweeps. _Bien!_ I would not sleep. I crawled out on
deck. I waited and watched. And presently a gentle breeze got up. Our
men made no movement; they made no effort to put the vessel on her
course, though they were moving about on the deck. Again I saw a lantern
flash, and then, just a few minutes ago, I caught sight of a stranger
approaching us. Monsieur, that is a Chinese pirate. She comes to take
our weapons, and to loot those boxes the Professor carries with him.'

'Then the sooner he is warned the better,' said David, his voice hardly
audible. 'This is serious.'

'Monsieur will perhaps go to the cabin and wake the two gentlemen,'
suggested Alphonse, not a tremor in his words. 'I will remain and
watch.'

'Listen to this,' whispered David, eagerly. 'I will warn the two in the
cabin, and will then go to the four Chinese who form part of our staff.
I will bring them back to our quarters as soon as possible. Meanwhile,
if there is a movement in this direction, retire to the cabin yourself,
and close the door firmly. It is the only means of entrance, except by
way of a large port under the companion ladder leading to the roof of
the cabin.'

'And that?' asked Alphonse, still as cool as ever, as if this were an
everyday matter.

'Will do for me and the four men,' declared David. 'If the main door is
shut we will slip in there. Warn the others about it.'

He was gone in a moment, and within the space of half a minute had
awakened the Professor and Dick. In a few words he related what was
happening.

'Stand by the door and admit Alphonse,' he said. 'I am going for the men
we engaged at Hong-Kong; they are to be trusted.'

He took his magazine pistol from the rack in which all the weapons were
housed, and slid out on to the deck again. Then, bending low, he ran
towards the hatchway which led to the quarters occupied by the men
attached to the expedition. He was just disappearing down it when his
eyes fell upon some two dozen bent and dusky figures creeping along the
deck. A moment later one of them gave a sharp order, and at once, with
shouts and cries, the whole party dashed toward the stern of the vessel.
The attack on the Professor's party was about to begin. David's retreat
was entirely cut off by the enemy.




CHAPTER VII

At Sea on a Chinese Junk


'Steady!' David commanded himself, feeling for the moment as if he were
about to give way to panic. 'Go below and get the four men, then make a
rush. You couldn't get back to the cabin alone.'

He stood on the narrow steps, with his head just above the level of the
hatch and watched for a moment; for the sudden view he had obtained of
the attackers, and their unexpected rush aft had taken him unawares. As
he stared into the gloom he could see the figures which had passed him
at a rush moving about from side to side of the vessel, just outside the
huge deck cabin that occupied the whole of the stern. He heard blows
struck against the woodwork, and a loud, resounding bang, as the door
was locked and bolted. Then the shouts died away. A man stood out
prominently from his comrades, and gave a sharp order. A second later
there was a blinding flash, a deafening roar rolled along the decks and
over the sea, while the flame lit up the surroundings.

'Fired a blunderbuss or some other ancient weapon,' David told himself.
'Blew a hole clean through the door. I do hope that none of my friends
were behind it. Ah! that is the answer.'

For one brief second he had obtained a clear view of the attackers. Some
twenty-four in number, they crouched on the deck as the weapon was
fired, so that the ruffian who pulled the trigger became all the more
prominent. He was a tall, lanky Chinaman, dressed in loose cotton
clothing, and with arms bared to the shoulder. David even caught a view
of his swaying pigtail. Then darkness descended again, and blotted out
the figure. A moment later startled voices came to his ear from below;
at once he dropped to the bottom of the ladder.

'Gently, Ho Hung,' he whispered, calling to one of the four men who had
joined the staff of the expedition, and who had been with the Professor
on a previous occasion. Ho Hung, indeed, was well known to our hero, for
it was he who made such valiant efforts every day to teach him the
language. 'Gently, Ho Hung,' he called again, speaking in Chinese as
well as he could. 'I am here, at the bottom of the ladder.'

Something touched his leg. Strong fingers closed about the ankle, and
sent a thrill throughout David's frame. He clenched his teeth, and
stooping, gripped the wrist of the man below, prepared to throw himself
upon him.

'Speak,' he commanded, hoarsely. 'Who are you?'

'Ho Hung, Excellency. I heard you call; there is trouble on the deck?'

'Listen,' said David, breathing deeply, a huge sigh of relief escaping
him. 'We are attacked. My friends are in the cabin; we must reach them,
you and I and the other three. Where are they?'

Not a sound had he heard below, save Ho Hung's voice; but at his
question three more figures rose up before him as if they were ghosts,
though in the dense darkness of the 'tween decks he could not perceive
them. But the men spoke huskily, their tones strangely different from
the high-pitched notes they were wont to employ.

'Lo Fing, Excellency, here, ready.'

'And Hu Ty, at your orders.'

'With John Jong, Excellency, prepared to obey.'

The latter individual impressed his presence upon our hero by stretching
out a long, thin hand in the darkness, and laying it upon his shoulder.
But that was often this Chinaman's salutation in the case of David or
Dick, though he would never have dared in the case of the Professor or
in that of Alphonse. Still he was a merry, privileged rascal, and
enjoyed the name of John, probably because of its similarity to his own
of Jong, and also, perhaps, because he was the only one of the four who
could understand and speak English.

'Allee lightee, Excellency David,' he said, using his queer
pidgin-English. 'Allee four here. What then? Trouble above? Dat rascal
captain up to some nicee little game?'

But David ignored the questions. Ho Hung was the leader of this little
quartet, and by far the most reliable. He swung round upon the Chinaman,
who still gripped his ankle, as if to assure him of his presence all the
while, and spoke hastily, his knowledge of the language, small though
it was, proving of the greatest service.

'You will stand by us then?' he asked.

'We swear it,' came solemnly from Ho Hung, while the other three gave
guttural approval. 'And you are armed?'

From the neighbourhood of John Jong there came the sound made when a
match is struck, and almost at once a flame illuminated the
surroundings, showing the four Chinamen, their eyes strangely big and
prominent in the flare, and David at the foot of the ladder. Jong held
the match forward, and each man in turn showed the weapon he possessed.

'See, Excellency, a staff,' said Ho Hung, displaying a massive staff,
that would prove a formidable weapon.

'And knives here, and here, and here.' Jong pointed to the one he had in
his own belt, while Lo Fing and Hu Ty held theirs forward, smiling
grimly.

'Then wait while I see what is happening. We have to join the others,
and I have arranged to make use of the port under the ladder leading to
the top of the cabin. We shall have to make a rush--you understand that?
You follow what I mean?'

The match had burned down to Jong's finger tips by now, and he let the
end drop on to the boards, stamping the ash out with his feet; but the
light given even by such a small incandescent piece of wood in the
darkness was sufficient to show up the figures for a few seconds. David
watched the men and nodded. There was no doubt that they had understood
his laboured rendering of their own language.

'Then wait,' he said curtly. 'I will see what is happening. One of the
crew fired a gun at the cabin door. I heard a shot in return, and
believe the man fell; since then there has not been a sound. Wait; I'll
be back in a moment.'

He stole softly up the ladder, for he had only a pair of soft bedroom
slippers on his feet, and they were as good for the purpose as even the
cotton-soled shoe worn by the Chinese themselves. In a twinkling his
head was on a level with the hatch, and then he cautiously raised it.

'Men creeping about as if they were in search of something,' he told
himself, seeing moving figures. 'One lying on the deck just where that
fellow stood to fire his shot. Killed, I expect, by our own party. What
on earth are the rascals up to?'

He was puzzling his brains as to what could be passing, for there seemed
no object in the movement of the men on deck, while the attack on the
cabin appeared to have been forgotten. Then a sharp exclamation reached
his ears, and one of the attackers stood upright, lifting something from
the deck. David could not be sure, but believed it was an axe, and again
wondered what would be done with it.

'Break in the door, I suppose,' he told himself. 'That'll want doing;
there are pistols there, my friend, as you will soon learn to your cost.
Ah! Another seems to have discovered a similar weapon.'

It was not at all remarkable that such a search should be needed for
these two axes--and axes they undoubtedly were--for the methods of the
commander of the native boat were anything but excellent. Untidiness was
noticeable everywhere; odds and ends of things, bales and boxes and
coils of rope and tackle of every description littering the deck. And
amidst the various items were the axes.

'Talking the matter over amongst themselves,' thought David, seeing the
dusky figures come together at one side of the deck. 'That shows they
counted on winning their way into the cabin at the first rush. They made
sure that they would pounce upon us unawares, and never imagined that we
should be ready for them. Now they'll decide upon some plan for forcing
their way in. This would be our chance for rushing along to join our
comrades.'

The thought had hardly crossed his mind when those long, firm fingers
closed again round his ankle, a sure signal that Ho Hung wished to
communicate with him. Instantly David slid down into the depths of the
vessel.

'Well?' he asked, somewhat curtly, for he was anxious not to lose sight
of the enemy. 'They have been searching the decks for axes and have
discovered two. I think they are about to rush at the door and attempt
to beat it in. That will be the moment for us to run. You have all that,
Hung? Can't make it a bit clearer.'

A guttural response reassured him. 'We have understood. His Excellency
speaks plainly, though he makes many mistakes. Hung wished only to tell
of something which has been forgotten. There is no need to go out on
deck and enter by the port, for there is a path to the cabin by this
way. Does his Excellency forget that meals are brought to his friends
through a hatchway leading up through the floor of the cabin?'

The position of that hatch flashed across David's brain instantly, and
he could have struck himself for having forgotten it so readily. Of
course, it was the only way by which to rejoin the party in the cabin,
and offered a perfectly safe road.

'We will make along it at once, Hung,' he said. 'Let Jong run and warn
our friends immediately. I will watch at the top of the ladder, while
you and the other two search about for something with which to block the
foot of the ladder leading up to that hatch. Quick with it! They may
have remembered it too.'

Feeling sure that his orders would be carried out promptly, he swarmed
up to the level of the deck again, and once more cautiously protruded
his head. At the same moment a heavy thud reached his ears; there came
the sound of splintering wood, then the sharp, distinctive snap of a
magazine pistol. As on a former occasion, though to a lesser degree this
time, the flash of the weapon gave our hero an instant's view of his
surroundings. Thirty feet away was the wall of the cabin, with the dark
lines of the doorposts in the centre, while the deck on either hand was
occupied by crouching figures. One Chinaman alone was prominent, and he
stood before the door, frantically struggling to drag the blade of the
axe he had been wielding out of the woodwork. He staggered backwards
with the weapon, as the darkness fell like a screen about him. Then the
sound of splintering wood was repeated, a pistol snapped, and after it
another, illuminating the scene for the space of a few seconds. David
saw the Chinaman reel across the deck, and heard the axe fall heavily
upon the boards, then his eye fell upon other figures. Half a dozen men
were creeping towards the hatchway from which he was watching, and the
leader of the band was within a few inches.

'One of the foreign devils,' he heard a man call. 'Hold him! Seize him!
He has stolen out of the cabin.'

'I have him. Follow. Push your knives into his carcass.'

The leader so close to our hero recovered from his astonishment far
sooner than did David, and hardly had his companion shouted when the man
threw himself forward as if he were diving, and landing full upon the
lad, who was standing on the steep steps that lead to the 'tween decks,
gripped him round the neck in an embrace that was stifling. The result
must have been as much of a surprise to him as it was to our hero; for
the latter's feet slipped, his soft, felt soles failing to grip the
rungs of the ladder, and at once both were precipitated to the bottom.

'Yield, foreign devil,' the man hissed in his ear. 'Yield, or I will
thrust my knife through you.'

He made frantic efforts to get at the weapon, and releasing one hand
groped at his belt. But the fall had shaken the weapon from its place,
and had sent it tinkling on to the boards, while the movement gave David
an opportunity he took the utmost advantage of. Naturally strong and
active, and by this time fully restored to health, he was a good match
for the Chinaman. Indeed, he was more; for, exerting all his strength,
he thrust the man beneath him and held him there, wondering what next he
should do with him. However, he was not to be spared time for such a
purpose, for by now a second man was beside them. David felt his hand on
his shoulder as the Chinaman sought in the darkness to assure himself
which was friend and which foreign devil. In a moment he would know, for
the clothing would tell its own story promptly, and if David were to
escape a thrust from the long knife the rascal bore he must act on the
instant. It may have been an inspiration--perhaps the whole thing was
done unconsciously--in any case our hero braced his muscles as he had
never done on a former occasion, and stretching out a hand gripped the
pigtail of the man beneath him. Then he lifted the head sharply and sent
it back against the deck with a sickening thud that stunned his
antagonist instantly. A moment later something struck hard against his
own shoulder, and, though he did not realise the fact then, the
explanation came afterwards. The second Chinaman had thrust at him in
the darkness, and missing his aim, had sent his blade within a couple of
inches of his back, and far across it till his wrist came against the
shoulder.

'Which shows he means business in any case,' thought David, recoiling
before the blow. 'How's that?'

Kneeling up, with a swift motion, and realising that he had no time to
get to his feet, he lunged forward sharply with his right fist, met
something solid and sent it flying. Indeed, he heard the man stagger
across the alley-way, and crash against a bulkhead two yards from him.
Then, long before the fellow could pounce upon him, David was on his
feet.

'Hist!' he heard at his elbow, then there was the scrape of a match
against the roughened paper on the box. A flame suddenly illuminated the
'tween decks, showing our hero, dishevelled and somewhat breathless,
close to the foot of the ladder, Ho Hung beside him, and the Chinaman
advancing again with upraised weapon. More than that, it showed faces
filling the dark square of the hatchway, and a man already half-way down
the ladder.

[Illustration: "A FLAME SUDDENLY ILLUMINATED THE 'TWEEN DECKS"]

'On to him,' shouted David. 'I'll see to the other.'

His hand dipped into his pocket swiftly, and reappeared with his
magazine pistol. Before the flame had quite died out, or the Chinaman
could reach him, he pressed the trigger, and caught a glimpse of the
fellow as he doubled up like a rabbit, and crashed to the boards. A
second later he was swept from his feet by Ho Hung and the Chinaman, who
had by now reached the foot of the ladder.

If ever there were a time when David felt inclined to lose his head and
act in an aimless manner, it was at this very moment, when he was swept
from his feet by the fall of Hung and the villain who had grappled with
him. Tumbled on the deck with a crash, he stretched out his hands to
help himself to rise, and, instead of feeling his fingers fall upon the
boards, realised at once that they had come in contact with a man. He
pounced on the fellow, and after gripping his arms, he shifted his
fingers to the neck. A growl of vexation escaped him.

'He's the other fellow. The chap I shot a moment ago. Call this acting
steadily?' he asked himself fiercely. 'Where's Hung? What's he doing?'

It was useless to ask the question, for the sound of a violent scuffle
at his feet, and the fact that he was again nearly felled to the deck
provided sufficient answer to any but the most unintelligent. Obviously
Hung was locked in the arms of one of the enemy, and in the darkness who
could say who was the victor? Then that coolness which David had
momentarily lost, and which was so essential under such circumstances,
returned to him like a flash. He dropped his pistol into his pocket,
extracted a box of matches and struck one.

'Now,' he thought, 'we shall see how matters are going. Ah! another of
the fellows.'

The many faces of which he had caught a glimpse a little while before
filling the dark square of the hatchway were blotted out by the figure
of a Chinaman sliding down the ladder, while the light was reflected
brightly from almost a yard of steel that was gripped between the
newcomer's teeth. In a second or two he would be at the bottom of the
ladder, and then, even if David wished to help Hung, he would be unable
to. It was just one of those acute moments when instant decision is
necessary, and immediate action, consequent on that decision, of vital
importance. We have said that David Harbor was assailed but a minute
earlier by one of those strange panics which come to the best of men,
to the very bravest. Who knows? perhaps his meeting with the burglars in
the store so close to Bond Street had in a measure unnerved him; or
even, though his healthy colour and obvious robustness gave the lie
direct to the suggestion, he was not yet entirely recovered from his
injury sustained in that memorable conflict with Henricksen and his
accomplices. Whatever the cause, David had without a shadow of doubt
been on the verge of losing his head and his coolness entirely within a
few seconds of Hung's arrival to help him. Perhaps the shame he felt
immediately afterwards helped him now to behave in the coolest possible
manner, and with a promptness that was commendable. Seeing the Chinaman
just at the foot of the ladder, he tossed the match to the floor, and
stepping forward seized the man round the waist. Then he lifted him from
his feet as if he weighed a mere nothing, and using all his strength
threw him across the alley-way. The crash had hardly died away when he
had another match burning.

'Now we will run to the cabin, Excellency,' he heard Hung say, and
turning towards him he saw the gallant fellow standing within a foot of
him, a long knife in one hand, and the staff which he had carried at the
foot of the ladder. Also the light showed the hatchway above, with its
gallery of staring faces, and a huddled figure at Hung's feet. As for
the man David had tackled, he lay in a heap against the bulkhead,
stunned and helpless after such a rough experience.

'Lead the way,' commanded David, promptly. 'I'll bring the ladder with
me. Stand aside, and let us have another match.'

He gripped the sides of the steep ladder leading from the hatchway, and,
as Hung fumbled for a match, tore it from its flimsy fastenings. Then he
pointed down the alley-way, and seeing Hung advance, slid along after
him. Nor was their retreat undertaken a moment too soon. For as David
stepped away from the hatchway a dozen more heads were suddenly shown
there, standing out dimly against the starlight. Men shouted and
bellowed, while one yellow ruffian slid a long, skinny arm downwards,
took hasty aim, and pulled the trigger of a huge horse pistol. The
concussion in the narrow alley-way deafened our hero, though the bullet
did not touch him--for it was as big almost as a pigeon's egg--and
crashing against the deck planks, it bored a hole clean through them.
The smoke which belched from this antique weapon formed an excellent
screen, behind which Hung and his companion were able to cloak their
movements.

'You follow closely, Excellency,' David heard the Chinaman say. 'Not
safe to strike more matches, for some of the men may have dropped
through the hatchway and will fire at us. Follow closely, and bring the
ladder. Our friends are within short distance of us.'

'And they have warned the others?' asked David. 'They have made some
preparation to hold the enemy?'

'That I cannot say,' came the swift answer. 'But Jong is cunning, while
the others will have obeyed his Excellency's orders. Ah! we have
arrived. Hist! we are coming towards you.'

In the black darkness at the end of the alley-way a faint sound was
heard, as if some one had sharply closed the lid of a metal match-box,
though as a matter of fact it was the cocking of a pistol held in Dick's
hands. Then the light from a lantern was thrown for one brief instant in
David's direction, showing the walls of the alley-way, Hung's hurrying
figure, and ahead of him a huge square mass, covered in sacking. Dick's
cheery voice broke the silence immediately.

'Cheer oh! David!' he cried. 'What news? We were beginning to get the
fidgets about you. Thought those fellows might have bagged you
altogether. What's happened?'

'Heaps,' came the laconic answer. 'Just let me get past this bale and
take a breather. I've never been so scared in all my life.'

There was a savage note in his voice, a note altogether foreign to
David, and hearing it Dick realised that something altogether out of the
common had happened.

'Come and sit down on the deck beside me,' he said. 'You can go up into
the cabin later. I've sent word to say you were arriving. What's upset
you?'

'Look here,' David blurted, turning upon him, 'would you feel yourself
if you had been within an inch of proving a funk, of running away with
your tail between your legs? Would you? Eh? That's the question.'

'Depends,' came the cautious answer. 'Perhaps there was reason for
getting funked. I tell you I was at first when you woke me. Well? What's
all the bother?'

'I'll tell you,' said our hero, feeling somewhat relieved and in better
favour with himself, now that he heard Dick admit to the fact that he
himself had been scared. 'I met our men at the bottom of the hatchway,
and sent them on various errands. Then, as I watched from the top of the
ladder a beggar threw himself on me, and we both went crash to the
bottom. A second fellow followed, and then a third, whom Hung tackled.
Well, I stunned my first man, and knocked the breath out of the second.
I could feel Hung scuffling with his man in the darkness, and I tell you
I nearly bolted. I got into a panic, and might very well have fired in
all directions. Gurr! It makes a fellow ashamed of himself.'

Dick roared with laughter, till a sharp command from the cabin above
stopped him. 'You do amuse me, David,' he said, dropping his voice to a
whisper. 'Stun one man, knock the wind out of another, and then get
scared. As if a fellow hadn't a right to be, after such an experience;
but what happened then?'

'Pulled myself together, I suppose; did the only sensible thing under
the circumstances. I struck a match, and only just in time. There was
another beggar at the foot of the ladder, with a whole heap staring
through the hatchway. I bet I shook that last rascal. I heaved him
across the alley-way as if he were a box, and I should say that he's
hardly fit to move yet awhile. Talk about collaring a chap out of the
scrum, or getting a quick man extra well when coming all out down the
field--that Chinaman don't need to fear a game of footer in the future.
He'll never be collared or slung harder. Well, there you are: Hung had
finished his man with the most murderous knife you ever saw, while I
ended the matter for the moment by tearing the ladder away; but they
won't be long in coming after us. What have you done?'

'Half-blocked the alley-way near the bottom of our hatchway with bales
of cotton, leaving room for you to come through. Jong's been shoving
others into position since. Beyond that I've done nothing; the Professor
and Alphonse have been watching the door of the cabin.'

'Then supposing we show that lamp again,' said David. 'If all's clear
I'll hop up and report progress, then I'll get leave to come down to
you. There'll be a ruction in this neighbourhood before many minutes.'

Dick reached for the dark lantern from the corner in which he had placed
it, and turned the slide swiftly, showing first the figures of Jong, of
Hu Ty, and Lo Fing crouching behind the barrier erected in the
alley-way. Then he flashed the light over the top of the bales of
cotton, and illuminated the alley-way beyond. The rays fell upon a dozen
eager faces, upon a mass of half-clad men hemmed in the narrow place,
and was reflected from a number of brandished weapons. A deafening shout
greeted the appearance of the lantern, and the bales it showed barring
the progress of the attacking party. Then the same lean, skinny arm
which had dropped from the other hatchway, and had fired a horse pistol,
jerked itself into a horizontal position, a crashing report filled the
alley-way, while a bullet roared between the heads of Dick and David,
and thundered against the woodwork behind. Hidden by the eddying smoke
the Chinese pirates struggled forward and threw themselves with fury
upon the barrier behind which lay the Professor's slender party.




CHAPTER VIII

In a Tight Corner


'Excellency, we will see to those men for a time,' said Hung, as the
mass of Chinese pirates crowding in the dark alley-way came charging
forward. 'The bales of cotton will hold them in check, and a knife will
be easier to use in such crowded quarters. But bring the lamp; hold it
above our heads, so that the rays do not fall upon us, but upon the
enemy.'

He gabbled the words at such a rate that David could scarcely follow his
meaning, nor Dick either. But Jong came rapidly to the rescue, stopping
for a while on his way to the barrier.

'Him tink you speakee and understandee ebelyting, Excellencies,' he
said, smiling as if the fact amused him, and as if the affair in hand
was a mere nothing. 'Hong say, supposee you comee along, leavee de fight
altogeder to us Chinaboys. Yo hold de light high, so as to shine on de
enemy only. Soon kill all dem men.'

He was wonderfully confident, and now went forward at a run. Meanwhile
the other three Chinamen had reached the immediate neighbourhood of the
barrier, which was placed some four yards along the alley-way, leaving,
therefore, ample room for the defenders to stand at the foot of the
ladder leading to the cabin above. At once Dick snatched up the lantern,
while David dragged his magazine pistol from his pocket.

'Come along,' he shouted, for the din in this confined space was
appalling. 'I think I know a trick that'll trouble them. Get along with
the lantern, and hold it up at arm's length. I'll make use of the ladder
I took from along there, and get well above our fellows; then I shall be
able to shoot down into the enemy. Ain't they kicking up a row?'

'Enough to deafen any one; but be careful when you're roosting on that
ladder. Don't forget the fellow with the pistol.'

David made a note of the warning promptly, and having reached the scene
of the conflict, reared his ladder against one wall of the alley-way,
leaving, however, ample room between its foot and the bales for Hong and
his comrades to have free movement. Dick pushed his way right to the
centre of the barrier, and finding a foothold on the edge of a low case,
which formed the base of the obstruction, stepped on to it, and lifted
the lantern at arm's length. At once he heard an exclamation of
satisfaction come from their friends, for till that moment it was almost
impossible for the defenders to take any action against the enemy. All
they knew was that the latter were slashing and tearing at the far side
of the bales, and with such exertion that the whole barrier threatened
to topple over. However, the lamp flung its rays forward on to the
struggling mass of men, leaving the part behind the barrier in dense
darkness. At once a roar of anger went up from the pirates. One thin
and exceedingly active man, whose eyes seemed actually to blaze in the
lamp-light, pushed his comrades back forcibly, and with a howl of rage
leaped at the top of the barrier. Clutching the sacking with his
fingers, and digging his bare toes into any crevice he could find, he
was on the summit in a wonderfully short space of time. Then his hand
sought the long knife which, as seemed to be the custom with these
marauders, he carried in his mouth. He was on the point of launching
himself down upon the defenders, while David had already levelled his
pistol at the man, when Hung gave a loud shout.

'Stand aside, let me deal with him,' he cried, and turning swiftly, as
he dropped his pistol, David was able to catch a view of the gallant
fellow as he prepared for the attack. His arms were thrown back over one
shoulder, and the faint light reflected from the sides of the alley-way,
and from the cotton clothes of the enemy, showed that he gripped in his
hands the huge staff which he had showed some minutes before to our
hero. It swished through the air as Hung swung forward, and meeting the
Chinaman above as he leaped downward it felled him to the deck, striking
him so hard that the man never even moved once he had fallen, but lay in
a heap, his limbs curled up and contorted beneath him. Then, indeed, the
turmoil and the din became so great that those defenders might have been
forgiven had they suddenly lost heart, and, turning tail, had rushed to
the ladder, there to struggle for the right to be the first to ascend to
the security of the cabin above. But Hung was no chicken. To look at
Jong he loved this class of thing, for he burst into a roar of laughter
as the Chinaman was struck down, while Hu Ty and his comrade crouched
behind the barricade, their sallow faces flushed, their eyes dancing,
eager for more active effort. But let us remember that David and Dick
never once flinched. The latter had been forced to step aside, else the
man who had leaped upon the barricade would have jumped down on him, and
also he would have been in Hung's way. But he was back in his place now,
smiling, still holding the lamp above his head, cheering madly at this
first success. As for David, all his old coolness had come back to him.
Perched on the ladder well above the combatants, he felt as a general
does who is posted on some commanding hill from which he is able to
observe every movement in a battle, and give swift orders accordingly.
He shouted encouragement to Hung, and then called suddenly to all his
comrades to be cautious.

'Some more men have come into the alley-way,' he said, 'and there'll be
a strong rush in a moment. Keep well down below the barricade; I can see
that rascal reloading his pistol.'

He handled his own weapon, for through a break in the mass of men in
front he had caught a view of the skinny individual, who was possessed,
by the way, of a most malevolent and ugly countenance, busily ramming a
fresh charge into his ancient pistol. Through the sudden silence, which
followed the downfall of the man who had attempted to scale the
barricade, there came the ring of a ramrod, and now as David watched he
saw the rascal pushing his way forward.

'Lie low all of you,' he called again. 'That fellow's going to fire his
pistol.'

Up went his own weapon, though he did not fire, for other men as yet
covered the ruffian. Suddenly the man with the pistol appeared to have
caught a glimpse of the figure perched above the level of the barricade.
He shouted; the same skinny arm was thrown up, and before David could
realise his danger he was staring into the expanded muzzle of as
murderous a weapon as could be found anywhere. Yes, murderous; for it
was but ten feet away, and carried a ball like a young cannon-shot. And
how it roared as the rascal pulled the trigger! A wide stream of flame
spurted from the muzzle, and then such a dense cloud of smoke that the
alley-way, the men within it, even the barricade was swallowed up.
Moreover, the bullet as near as possible put an end to this narrative,
and to the quest of David Harbor; for it tore past his cheek, rattled
and ricochetted along the stout wooden wall of the passage, and striking
the runner of the ladder behind more than half severed it. In addition,
it considerably startled our hero.

'Hit?' called out Dick, swinging his head round, for, of course, he like
David had obtained a clear view of the man. 'There still, old chap?'

A growl was his only answer, and then a hasty order.

'You've swung the light off him, though the smoke is too thick to let
one see just now. Get it shining down the passage. We must put a stop to
that fellow's antics; his bullet as near as possible took my head off.
Ah, steady! I can see.'

Yes, he could see. The lamp-light shining into the alley-way was
directed upon the ruffian who had just fired; but it showed more than
he. It showed a couple of dozen men pressing along behind him, the look
on their faces telling plainly that they were determined to rush the
barricade. Instantly David gave warning, and levelling his own weapon
fired at the pirate who had so recently discharged the pistol; but he
did not stop him. The bullet went astray, and striking a man just behind
him brought him tumbling to the deck. However, the next proved more
successful. The rascal howled with pain, then, as if driven frantic by
it, he threw his pistol at the figure which he could only dimly discern
above the barricade, and led his comrades forward. For ten whole minutes
none of the defenders had so much as a breathing spell. Those four
Chinamen at the back of the barricade fought as if they were possessed,
and fought too, like Englishmen, in silence. Their knives rose and fell
constantly. Now one of them would spring upward, and grabbing an
attacker by the shoulder would haul him within reach; now Hung would
give vent to a guttural exclamation, at which Dick and his comrades
would unconsciously move aside. Then there came the thud of the huge
club he wielded, a sickening, dull thud, followed by a heavy fall on the
far side of the bales placed across the alley-way. A sudden fusillade
from David's magazine pistol drove the assailants out of sight, and
allowed the defenders to rest after their exhausting efforts.

'Put the lamp on the top of the bales,' said David at once. 'We must
chance a fellow firing at it and smashing it altogether. Hung, post a
man up here to watch. I'll go up and report progress, unless, of course,
you'd like to, Dick.'

The latter shook his head vigorously, and was about to answer when
another voice came from behind them in the alley-way. It was the
Professor, jaunty and high-spirited as ever, a silent witness of the
late c

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