“Jupiter!” gasped Dan, as he reached Dave’s side.

Boom! bang! Two shots were fired almost together from the “Castoga’s” forward guns.

“The rebels are returning from the suburbs,” Dave exclaimed, “and even the near-by houses are emptying themselves of hundreds of other armed men.”

“There must be a million of them, in all,” said Danny Grin briefly, “but I reckon we can thrash ’em all.”

“We’ll have to, or go under,” was Dave’s brief retort. “There cannot be a doubt that the armed multitude intends to attack the yamen.”

In the meantime Signalman Ross was sending the message that Dave had given him. Now a signalman on the gunboat wig-wagged back:

“Do not attempt to leave yamen with your party until you receive orders so to do.”

“I’m glad of that command,” Dave muttered to his subordinate. “I wouldn’t care to risk any of our American women by trying to take them through such a rabble as I see advancing.”

Again some of the “Castoga’s” guns spoke. The shell fire was doing some execution in the ranks of the oncoming rebels, though not enough to halt their march.

“I am going down into the compound to send up men and rapid-fire guns,” Dave announced to his chum. “Post the men, and station one rapid-fire gun on each of the four sides of the compound.”

“What are you going to do with the Chinese soldiers?” Dan asked.

Dave frowned.

“I don’t know,” he said. “This is the governor’s yamen, and these are his troops. I don’t believe we can trust them, but, on the other hand, have we any right to drive the soldiers out? And would they go peaceably, or would they open fire and put the women in danger?”

“Ask the Captain, by signal,” Dan advised.

“Ask him yourself, signing my name, Dan. Whatever we do, the rapid-fire guns can’t be placed on these walls a moment too soon.”

Hustling below, Dave ordered up the sailors and all but four of the marines. Each man, as he went, carried up a case of one thousand cartridges, either for the rapid-fire guns or for the infantry rifles.

“You men in charge of the stores,” Dave ordered, “keep the Chinese away from our property. Don’t let any of the yellow men touch the stores. Shoot before you permit that, and shoot promptly and to kill!”

Then Darrin turned his attention to the missionary party. Of the thirty-two men who carried rifles, he sent twenty to the ramparts, while he directed the other twelve to stand guard over the women.

Having made these dispositions of his command, Ensign Darrin again raced up to the top of the wall.

“There’s the answer just coming from the gunboat,” Dan informed him. So Dave, shading his eyes with one hand, picked up this message from the “Castoga”:

“Ensign Darrin: You will need to exercise great caution as to what you do in the yamen, as only the presence of imperilled missionary party justifies presence of your command there at all. Better consult with the governor.”

“That’s just what I’ll do,” Dave uttered grimly. “That governor chap has been keeping himself mighty well out of sight. Now it’s time for me to see him, and he must show up and take some little hand in affairs that are going on in his city and province.”

“Shall I allow more Chinese soldiers up here on the wall?” asked Ensign Dalzell. “Here they come.”

That was, indeed, only too true. Very quietly, under their own officers, some hundred and sixty of the governor’s troops had formed in four detachments, going to the walls at the four sides of the compound and starting up the steps.

“I don’t know whether we can stop them, and I don’t know that they won’t be willing to fight with us and for us,” returned Darrin, perplexedly. “I’ll follow the commander’s orders and see the governor at once.”

Running down, and darting across the compound, Dave halted before the principal door of the main building, the door Sin Foo had used.

Knocking lustily with the hilt of his sword, Dave did not wait more than thirty seconds. Then reports from two more of the gunboat’s guns decided him. He seized the latch, trying to force the door, but only to find that barrier locked.

“Open!” ordered Dave, in his loudest quarterdeck voice. “Open!”

He waited another thirty seconds, but no one inside obeyed.

“Open,” he shouted, “or I shall order my men to batter the door down!”

Inside, instantly, he heard the murmur of voices.

“Well,” demanded the irate young officer, “will you open, or do you wish the door battered down?”

Preceded by a rattling of bolt chains, the great door was thrown open. Into the doorway breach stepped Sin Foo, calmly disdainful. Behind him stood fully a score of Chinese soldiers, each with rifle leveled ready to shoot.

“Why this unseemly disturbance before the official residence of the governor?” demanded Sin Foo.

“I must see the governor immediately,” Dave replied.

“It will be impossible to see his excellency, except upon appointment,” replied the secretary. “His excellency’s presence is sacred, and is not to be invaded at will by a hasty caller with sword in hand. If you will wait here, I will ascertain if his excellency will be pleased to see you in an hour.”

“If he keeps me waiting two minutes,” Ensign Dave retorted, “I shall search this building for him.”

“At your first step inside,” Sin Foo proclaimed, “these soldiers will fire upon you. That will be the signal for all our troops to fire on your men, who are no better than unlawful invaders.”

“Ensign Dalzell!” shouted Dave, over his shoulder.

“Aye, aye, sir.”

“Rush six men here, with the machine gun from the river side of the wall!”

“Very good, sir!” came in Dan’s delighted voice.

No sooner did he comprehend than Sin Foo uttered something in Chinese. Through the squad of soldiers darted half a dozen yellow servants who instantly sought to close the door.

“Back with you!” ordered Darrin, whipping out his revolver and menacing the frightened servants.

“If the word to start killing is given it will really come from you, Mr. Sin Foo,” Dave warned the secretary sternly, “and you will be one of the first men to drop dead.”

Dave’s foot was now posted where it would obstruct the closing of the door, even if attempted.

“Here we are, sir,” panted a sailor, darting up with a machine gun and its crew.

“Train your gun to cover this corridor,” Dave ordered, tersely.

The gun captain posted the machine gun so that its nose pointed at the squad of Chinese.

“Withdraw those soldiers, Mr. Sin Foo!” briefly commanded Ensign Darrin.

“What?” gasped the thunderstruck under secretary. “You presume to give orders in the governor’s very residence?”

“I don’t intend to argue,” Dave retorted, as another of the “Castoga’s” guns spoke from the river. “If you don’t run your soldiers out of this corridor, then the janitor will have them to sweep out, for I’m going to order the machine gun into action mighty soon!”

Sin Foo looked puzzled, but soon he spoke to the soldiers, who, scowling, wheeled and marched back down the stone-flagged corridor, vanishing around an angle of the wall.

“The governor will not see you, sir,” Sin Foo insisted.

“You’re wrong there, too,” Dave crisped out. “It was my wish to be courteous. But now I have the honor to tell you that the governor will come to the doorway to speak with me, and he’ll come very promptly, or else I shall march a force of men into the house and find him. It will be much pleasanter for his excellency if he promptly decides to come here. Mr. Sin Foo, you have my permission to go and tell him just what I have said.”

For perhaps thirty seconds the under secretary stood gazing at the ensign. On his face was a look of absolute horror. During the pause Dave eyed him sternly.

“I mean business, Mr. Sin Foo!”

“Ensign Darrin, though it be at the cost of my head, which I can ill afford to spare,” murmured Sin Foo brokenly, “I shall undertake to bear to his excellency’s shocked ears your most outrageous message.”

Turning to his sailors, who were grinning discreetly, Dave Darrin observed softly:

“I think that will put motion into the governor’s feet, if anything will.”

Looking frequently at his watch, Ensign Dave waited a full two minutes.

“Come on, men,” he ordered, “we’ll start through the premises. This isn’t the time even to wait for governors.”

Some ten yards down the corridor Darrin had led his handful of men when Sin Foo’s shocked voice rang out:

“Halt! Stop! Outraged as his excellency feels, he is coming to listen for himself to your impertinence.”

“Halt!” ordered Dave, in a low tone. Again the machine gun was set up. But this time no delay was attempted. The same score of soldiers marched around the angle, halted and formed on either side of the corridor. Next came Ah Sin Foo, with tablet, ink and writing brush, while a servant carried a small table.

Behind them came five more officials, then one whom, from his elaborate Chinese costume, Darrin took to be the governor. After that personage came several other men.

Suddenly Dave Darrin started perceptibly. Among the governor’s followers, richly dressed, was none other than Mr. “Burnt-face,” lately of Manila!

“Now, what the mischief can ‘Burnt-face’ be doing here?” Darrin gasped inwardly. “And, by the same token, what was he really doing in Manila?”

“Step out and get two or three of the missionaries who understand Chinese,” Dave ordered in a low voice to the sailor nearest him.

Striking his hands together for silence, the Chinese governor sank down upon a richly carved chair which a yamen servant placed for him. Then he addressed Sin Foo in Chinese.

“His excellency demands to know the meaning of this extraordinary conduct,” translated the under secretary.

“Ask his excellency if he is aware that the city is now alive with rioters?” requested Dave.

There was some conversation in Chinese, after which Sin Foo replied:

“His excellency says that his troops are upon the walls of the yamen ramparts.”

“Does his excellency believe that his troops are going to be able to defeat the thousands of rioters who are marching here rapidly?” Dave asked.

After more conversation in Chinese Sin Foo explained:

“His excellency says he will guarantee the safety of all within the yamen precincts.”

“Even if the rebels attack resolutely?” Dave insisted.

“In spite of any attack,” Sin Foo assured him.

The missionaries who had been sent for were entering, but ahead of them darted a sailor who saluted the young officer and cried:

“Ensign Dalzell reports, sir, that the ramparts are being fired upon from the streets beyond. Ensign Dalzell believes, sir, that a general attack upon the yamen is about to begin.”

“Tell Ensign Dalzell,” Dave answered, “that he is to open fire as soon and as heavily as he deems best.”

Then, to the astounded under secretary Darrin added:

“I must beg his excellency to go with me to the ramparts.”

“He cannot—will not,” protested Sin Foo.

“He must!” declared Dave Darrin firmly.