  Muscles checked his watch for the tenth time in the past five minutes. He was growing more and more impatient. The minute hand showed it to be ten minutes past four o’clock. Twenty minutes remained before Biff’s four-hour deadline would run out. The powerful mechanic had returned to the spring. He kept his eyes turned in the direction of the path taken by Chan Li, Biff, and Chuba. He kept them turned that way except for the times he glared at the crystal of his watch. There was no sign of anyone. He could see the path at several spots. He had watched closely as long as he could when the party of three had left. Since their departure, he had seen no one. “They could be back by now,” he said to himself. “Plenty of time to get there and back.” Impatiently, he strode up and down. Deep within him, Muscles knew that he really wasn’t expecting them to return. His doubts, his fears had grown as the minutes became hours. He pounded his fist into the palm of his other hand. He wanted action. He was a man of action. This waiting, he told himself, was strictly for the birds. At 4:25, Muscles could stand it no longer. He started for the path. If Biff, Chuba, Charlie Keene, and their guide were returning, he’d meet them on the way. Muscles went along the path at a dog trot. Without realizing, he broke into a run. He checked himself when he came to the path’s sharp left turn and the steep rise to the crumbling stone wall. Now he was certain that Chan Li had led his friends into a trap. It was nearly 5:30—an hour over the deadline. The path by the wall, Muscles noticed, ran each way. Which way to turn, left or right? His decision was made for him by a sound. Muscles crouched low, just off the path, out of sight. He could plainly hear someone coming toward him. He stared through a small opening in the thick bush he was using as cover. His muscles tensed, he was ready to spring like a tiger. A figure suddenly came into view. It was Chan Li. With a snarl, Muscles sprang. He jumped on the back of the Chinese. His weight hurled the slighter man to the ground. Like a cat, Muscles leaped up. He snatched Chan’s right arm, twisted it, until Chan was face down on the ground. Muscles, keeping pressure on the arm, plunked himself down on Chan’s back. Increasing pressure on the arm until Chan gasped in pain, Muscles rasped out, “Okay, let’s have it, and fast. Where are the boys?” Chan didn’t answer. “You’re going to be a one-armed Chinese if you don’t talk.” Muscles cupped his free hand on the back of Chan’s head. He ground the man’s face in the dirt. “Talk!” The pain was bad enough, but the humiliation of having his face ground into the dirt, of losing face literally, was more than Chan could stand. “I talk,” he said. Muscles released the pressure. He stood up. “Now get up, you dog. Get up and tell me what happened.” “I had to do it. I had to lead boys to Ping Lu. If I don’t, he do great harm to my family.” “Ping Lu? Who’s he? Member of the Kwang tribe?” “No, he big boss in this territory.” “So, you turned traitor to your own. Where are the boys?” “In big house, not far from here.” “Let’s get going then. Show me the way.” Chan Li seemed to shrink in size at Muscles’ words. “Oh, no! No! Never. They kill me. They kill you if we go back. Many guards. All armed.” Muscles thought fast. “Charles Keene is there, too?” Chan nodded his head. “Now listen, you double-crosser. I don’t trust you, but I’ve got to. Do you know any members of the Kwang family who are opposed to this Ping Lu you mentioned?” “Oh, yes. Are many around here.” “All right. Now get this, and get it straight. You’re going to take me to one of them. And if you try to cross me, you’ll die along with me. I can knock you off with one blow.” Muscles held a clenched fist to Chan’s face. He twisted it on the Chinese’s nose. “I’ll be this close to you all the time. And believe me, I’ll get you before anyone gets me. Understand?” “I understand. Chan Li won’t try double cross.” “Okay. Let’s get going then. And on the double.” The Ancient One took the slip of paper from Biff. He looked at it carefully, then nodded his head. He turned to Chuba and spoke softly, swiftly. After a few moments, he stopped and indicated with a nod toward Biff and Charles Keene that Chuba was to interpret. “The Ancient One says there is great hope for escape. This piece of paper comes from one of his grandsons. He works in the kitchen. It is not known by the officials here that this cook is member of the House of Kwang. He was placed here to spy on Ping Lu. To try to find out plans. To warn when danger threatens Kwang House people.” The Ancient One resumed his speaking. He grabbed the guard by the collar and lifted him by one hand into the room “He says that paper with ‘K’ on it is signal. Either tonight, when clock makes twelve strikes, or tomorrow night at same time, attempt will be made to rescue him and us.” “How, Chuba? Ask him how?” Biff said. As Chuba spoke, the Ancient One shook his head. “Does not know exact plans. His grandson will try to be servant who comes for tray. He will tell us plan.” Biff looked at his uncle. “Guess there’s nothing we can do but wait.” Uncle Charlie agreed. “But things look good. When members of the House of Kwang act, they’re usually successful.” “Then how in the world did they ever let the Ancient One get captured in the first place?” Biff asked. “I think the Ancient One himself had something to do with that. He doesn’t really want to leave his homeland. He is old, and like all Chinese, he wants his final resting place to be in the earth of his native land.” “I’ve heard that was true—Look, Uncle Charlie, I think I may have an idea as to why Ping Lu is so desperate for you to sign that paper.” “Give out, Biff. Give out.” “Well, I’m not sure, of course, but on our way to Jaraminka, we ran into something very strange.” “Was much big workings,” Chuba cut in. “Many, many more big machines than when camp was cleared at Unhao.” “Tell me more, Biff.” Biff described the activity they had discovered behind the wire fence. He told his uncle of the immensity of the project, of the furious pace at which the men worked, of the bulldozers, the cranes, the steam shovels. “And there’s an air strip already completed. It was loaded with planes. You have an idea what it might be?” Charles Keene thought a few moments before replying. “Only a slight idea from what you’ve told me, Biff. I’d have to see the place.” “Maybe you can take a look on our way back.” “If we ever get out of here,” his uncle said soberly. “We’ll get out,” Biff said spiritedly. “Hope you’re right, Biff. You know, putting two and two together, the build-up of the Army in this area, and what you’ve described, it could be that Ping Lu thinks my real reason for coming in was to get information on the huge construction job.” “That’s what I thought, Uncle Charlie.” There was a noise at the door. All four raised expectant, hopeful eyes. Their expression of hope changed to one of despair. The same servant who had brought the meal came into the room to remove the tray piled with dishes. What had happened to the Ancient One’s grandson? |
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