Boy Scouts on Motorcycles | Page 3

think his foot hurt if he had the toothache."
"What a filthy, yellow, toothless, wicked old devil it is!" Jack went on.
"Some day when he comes here with that basket of rats I'm going to cut
his pigtail off close behind his ears."
"I think he's the foulest old geezer I've ever met," Frank went on. "If I
had a dog with a mug like that I'd hire him out to the man who
manufactures nightmares."
The Chinaman stood looking stupidly about for a minute before placing
his basket on the floor, then dropped it with a jar which rattled the few
dishes within and scuffled out of the door. Jimmie followed to see that
he did not loiter around the house listening, and came back with a
mischievous grin on his face.
Long before the appearance of the Chinaman the boys had planned to

use such uncomplimentary language in his presence as would be likely
to excite his anger, if he understood what was being said. They did not
believe he was as ignorant of the English language as he pretended to
be.
"Well," Jimmie asked, of Ned, "did he tumble? What did you see?"
"I saw as evil a look as ever burned out of a human eye," Ned replied.
"Looked to me like he would enjoy feeding Jack and Frank to the rats."
"Then he understood, all right?"
"Of course he did," Jack, answered. "I could see that with one eye. He's
been coming here with his grub for four days, and picking up a word
here and there every time. We ought to have had sense enough to have
been on guard against such treachery."
"What's the answer now?" asked Jimmie, turning to Ned.
"I'm afraid we're in a bad predicament," Ned replied. "This shows me
new light. The messenger we are expecting should have been here long
ago, and I'm now sure that we've just got to do something. I'm getting
afraid to eat the food they bring us, and I lie awake at night, listening
for hostile footsteps."
"That sounds a little more like Manhattan!" Jack cried. "Sounds like
action! We're off in a heathen land, surrounded by enemies, and not
likely to get anything like a fighting chance, but I'm for doing
something right now. I'm not going to lie still here and be poisoned,
like a rat in a sewer!"
"I'm for going on to Peking," Frank said. "We can report to the
American ambassador there, and, at least, get something to eat besides
rat pie and something better than a bare floor to sleep on. If we only
had the Black Bear, the motor boat we cruised with on the Columbia
river, we wouldn't be long on the way."
"Huh!" Jimmie observed, taking out a minute memorandum book, "it is

seventy miles by the river from Taku to Tientsin, and only
twenty-seven by the road."
"And how far to Peking by the road?" asked Jack.
"It is seventy-nine Miles from Tientsin to Peking," was the reply, "and
the roads ought to be good."
"That's more than can be said of the natives!" Jack said.
"The allied armies marched over the road to Peking in 1900," Frank
explained, "and I rather think the inhabitants of strip of country have a
wholesome respect for foreigners. With our high-power motorcycles,
ought to make Peking before daylight, if we start right after dark."
"And don't run across any cutthroats on the way," added Jimmie.
"Let's see," grinned Frank, "we were to have a flying squadron of
marines with us? What? I reckon they're flying so high that they are out
of sight!"
"Suppose we see if the horses are in good shape," Ned said, going to an
adjoining apartment.
He made his appearance again in a minute trundling a magnificent
motorcycle. It was been built expressly for army use, with a long,
powerful stroke 10 h. p. motor. It was as indestructible and as auto
machine as could well be designed. With a perfect muffler, automatic
carburetor and lubrication, it was a machine to cover miles silently and
with little danger of delay.
The open door behind Ned revealed three machines arranged along the
wall, and the boys rushed to the examination of them. In second all
were in the room, bending over their steel pets.
"Say!" Jimmie cried, presently, "we'll get Peking to-night--not! This
machine has been tampered with, and some parts are missing."
"Yes, I reckon the Yellow Peril is on deck!" said Frank.

CHAPTER II
A DISQUIETING DISCOVERY
The four boys regarded each other in silence for a moment. Jack was
the first to speak.
"How badly are the machines damaged?" he asked.
"Mine is all right," Jimmie reported, after a careful examination of his
steel steed, "except that a couple of burrs are