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The Radio Boys on Secret Service Duty Page 8
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CHAPTER VIII
CHINATOWN WINS
The old Chinaman, whose name they came later to know as Wong Ho and whowas a very evil man with many ruffians at his command, was unconsciousbut breathing heavily. When Frank ascertained that, their fears thatthey had killed him passed away. While Jack attended to tying him up,Frank turned his attention to Bob and "Black George."
Mr. Temple was out of the fight. He had recovered from his amazement anddashed in to help his son with more valor than discretion. "BlackGeorge," threshing about wildly in the endeavor to break Bob's grip onhis throat, had lashed out with his feet. A tremendous kick had caughtMr. Temple in the stomach and sent him reeling and gasping to the floor,where he was very sick, indeed.
Like a bulldog, Bob held on. Yet in "Black George" he had an opponentworthy of his mettle. That underworld leader had not gained hissupremacy by his wits alone. He was a tremendous rough-and-tumblefighter.
Back and forth they threshed on the floor as Frank paused above them,uncertain where to strike to aid his comrade. Bob still gripped "BlackGeorge" about the throat, but the gangster had so powerful a grasp onhis hands that he was unable to bring a fatal pressure to bear.
Suddenly, and by an almost superhuman effort, "Black George" heavedhimself up to his feet with Bob clinging to him. He must not be allowedto win. Frank swung aloft another lacquered stool, remembering theexecution wrought previously on Wong Ho by the same method, and broughtit down on "Black George's" head.
The stool splintered in his grasp. "Black George" relaxed, went limp,then collapsed.
"Whew," said Bob, panting. "I guess I'd have gotten him, Frank, but Idon't know. He's a tough fighter."
Jack's voice behind them rose in a scream.
"Look out. Here they come."
They whirled to face the new danger. And in through the doorway behindthe hangings poured a dozen ruffians. Jack bounded to the side of hiscompanions. The newcomers were Chinese, and evil looking they were inthe dim light of that subterranean room, with their glaring almond eyesand yellow faces. They gripped revolvers and long knives, and as theireyes took in the two figures of their leaders on the floor a hoarsemurmur arose and they started to surge forward.
It was a tense moment. The boys resolved to sell their lives dearly.
Then two things occurred. The leader of the newcomers and only white manof the group--the same man who had acted as their guide and betrayedthem--halted the onrush with a gesture of authority. And Mr. Temple,pallid from the effects of the kick in the stomach, pulled himself tohis feet and stood swaying in front of the boys.
"We surrender," said Mr. Temple, "but I warn you not to ill-treat us."
The leader nodded, turned to the group behind him, bade two of theirnumber step aside, and the others to leave. Grumbling and unwilling butevidently cowed by his authority, they obeyed.
As the hangings fell behind the last to leave, the guide, whom laterthey came to know as Matt Murphy, turned to them, his face grim enough.
"Ye showed sense," he said. "They'd ha' killed ye."
Stooping over "Black George" he examined him hastily. Then he did thesame by Wong Ho.
"Here," he said to the two Chinese attendants, "one of you get DoctorMarley at once. The other help me."
With the man who sprang to his aid, Murphy started to lift theunconscious form of "Black George." Then he bethought him of hisprisoners, and addressed Mr. Temple.
"Stay in this room," he said, "and I can protect ye. The only way out isthe way you come, an' nothin' could save ye from these yellow devils ifye get started. I'll be back."
Without more ado, he and his silent assistant disappeared with theirburden, returning almost at once for the still unconscious Wong Ho.
After his second departure the three boys and Mr. Temple were leftundisturbed for a long period. Their first act was to take account ofinjuries. Frank and Jack had come off unscathed. Bob was sore about theshins from kicks delivered by "Black George," but otherwise unhurt. Mr.Temple's kick in the stomach had been the most serious injury received,but he was rapidly recovering.
"I'm not blaming you boys for your gallant attempt to win freedom," saidMr. Temple, "but our position now could hardly be worse."
"I'm sorry, Dad, if you think I made matters worse by jumping on thatrascal," said Bob. "When I saw him threatening you I saw red."
"Anyhow," declared Frank, "if we had captured them, Uncle George,without being surprised by these others, we might have used them ashostages to obtain our freedom."
Mr. Temple shook his head.
"Perhaps," said he, "but it was a very long chance. However, we shallhave to make the best of it."
"At least we have won a respite," said Jack. "We have pretty well laidout their two leaders. They won't recover for some time to come, if I'many judge of broken heads. And meantime it isn't likely, is it, thatthis other fellow, who seems to be one of their lieutenants, will doanything to us?"
"Probably you are right, Jack," said Mr. Temple, "and we will be keptprisoners but not harmed, pending the recovery of this 'Black George' ifnot the Chinaman. But afterward----"
He left the sentence unfinished, but Bob took up his thought.
"We can face that when we have to, Dad," he said. "We're safe enough."
"Yes, I presume we are safe for the present," said his father."Nevertheless, do you realize there is no friend at large who has anyidea of our whereabouts, or knew that we came sightseeing to Chinatowntonight? We did not tell the clerk at the hotel. The only persons whoknow are the people that villain declared are his creatures--the headwaiter at the restaurant, and the chauffeur and our original guide."
"But surely," expostulated Frank, "when we fail to return to the hotel,there'll be a big uproar. You are a man of importance, and your businessrepresentative here as well as the hotel people will get the police onthe case."
"Very true," said Mr. Temple, thoughtfully. "Yet this is evidently awell-organized gang that has captured us, and we might be hidden awayforever in such a place as this without being found."
"But you forget Inspector Burton," said Frank. "When he hears of ourdisappearance, he will put two and two together and will realize that wehave fallen into the hands of the man whose plans we thwarted--namely,this 'Black George'."
"Yes," admitted Mr. Temple, "there is a little hope for us there. YetInspector Burton planned to leave for southern California tonight towatch Handby as well as try to locate the smugglers' radio with InventorBender's sound detector. He may not hear of our disappearance for sometime."
"But, Dad," said Bob, "it'll be in all the papers in a day or two. Thenews will be telegraphed to the papers in southern California, andprobably he will read it."
"There is some hope of that, of course," admitted his father.
For some time longer the discussion continued along this vein. ThenMurphy again made his appearance, and put an end to it.
"You're to write a note to the Palace," he said, "telling the hotelpeople to cancel your rooms an' give your baggage to bearer. Send acheck, too, for your bill. An' don't write nothin' phony. Tell 'emyou're goin' for a sea voyage with a friend. That'll fix it if there areany questions asked about you by friends you may have in the city.Here's paper an' pen," he added, laying the articles on the table. "Gitbusy an' write."
"And if I refuse?" demanded Mr. Temple.
"If you're a man of sense," said Murphy roughly, "ye'll do as you'retold."
All thought of that devious passage which was the only entrance to theroom, of the barred doors across it, and of the villainous, armedChinamen along the route. Murphy was right. Mr. Temple would have toobey.
"But, look here," he said, taking up the pen and preparing to write."What are you going to do with us?"
"The Big Boss is gonna take ye to sea with him while he recuperates,"said Murphy. "Ye give him a fractured skull that'll take him a while toget over. But the minute he opens his eyes he plans what to do with yean' tells me. He says he'll save ye up to deal with when
he recovers.He's savin' ye up for himself. See?"
They saw. Only too plainly. "Black George" was a vengeful man who meantto exact full measure for his injuries. With a sinking heart, Mr. Templewrote the note demanded. Note in hand, Murphy paused at the door for alast word ere departing.
"I wouldn't like to be in your shoes," he said.