Boy Scouts on Motorcycles | Page 5

trained to military service.
"You are Mr. Nestor?" he asked, extending his hand as Ned approached
him. "I have come a long distance to meet you," he added, before Ned
could answer the question.
"From Washington?" asked Ned.

The visitor nodded; glanced sharply about the apartment, where the
motorcycles were still lying, and then squatted on one of the burlap
bags. Jimmie shook his fist behind the newcomer's back. It was evident
that the boy did not like his appearance.
"I am Lieutenant Rae, of the Secret Service," he said, in a moment. "I
have been delayed on my way here. You were about to start on without
your final instructions?" he asked, lifting a pair of eyebrows which
seemed to make his little black eyes smaller and more inscrutable than
ever.
Ned looked at the man, now lolling back on the burlap, and for a
moment made no reply. Then he lied deliberately--in the interest of
Uncle Sam and human life, as he afterwards explained!
"No," he said, "we were merely overhauling the machines. We are in no
haste to be away."
"I see," grinned the other. "You are taking life easily? Well, that is not
so bad. However, you are to start on your journey early to-morrow
morning."
"I shall be ready," Ned replied. "You have just landed?"
For just a second Lieutenant Rae's eyes sought the ground, then he
lifted them boldly. Ned was watching his every movement.
"No," he said, then, "I came in three days ago, but I was obliged to
await the movements of others before reporting to you."
Jimmie caught Frank by the arm and drew him out of the house. Out in
the deserted garden--which was only a yard or two of hard-packed
earth-- he whispered:
"That feller's a liar!"
"What makes you think so?" Frank asked.
"He's no Englishman," Jimmie insisted. "He's a Jap. You bet your last

round iron man that's the truth. Now, what do you think he's doin'
here?"
"Well," Frank replied, "I think you are right. He's not an Englishman.
The nerve of him to put that up to us!"
"Perhaps he's the gazabo that monkeyed with our machines," suggested
Jimmie. "Wish I'd 'a' caught him at it!"
"But Ned says that was an European," Frank said.
"Then they're thick around us," Jimmie went on, "and we're up to our
necks in trouble. I wonder what instructions this Rae person will give
Ned?"
"Suppose we go inside and see," Frank answered.
When the lads reached the interior of the house again Ned and Rae
were bending over a road map of the country between Taku and Peking.
The visitor was indicating a route with his pencil.
"Very well," Ned said, as if fully convinced of the honesty of the other,
"now about the private orders. You understand, of course, that I know
little concerning the work cut out for me."
"You are to receive final instructions at Peking."
Ned smiled, but there was something about the smile which told the
boys that he was of their way of thinking.
"He's on!" Jimmie whispered in Frank's ear.
"You bet he is," was the reply.
"I'll come here in the morning," the visitor said, looking at his watch,
"and go out with you. The chances are that we'll have to make a quick
run. Machines in good order?" with a glance at the motorcycles lying
against the wall.

"We haven't as yet looked them over carefully," Ned lied again, "but
presume they are in good shape. As a matter of fact," he continued,
hardly able to suppress a smile as Jimmie looked reprovingly at him,
"as a matter of fact, we know little about the machines. This is new
business for us."
Lieutenant Rae bowed himself out of the door, and the boys gathered in
an inner room to discuss the situation.
"We may as well face the truth," Ned said, calmly. "The man who was
to meet us here has fallen into the hands of our enemies. We are alone
in China without instructions and surrounded by foes. Now, what shall
we do? We may be able to reach the water front and get off to one of
the British ships in sight."
"And go back?" demanded Jimmie. "Not for me! I'm goin' to stay an'
see this thing out."
"That's me!" Frank said, and Jack echoed his words.
"Well, then," Ned went on, with a smile of satisfaction at the attitude of
the lads, "if we are going on, we've got to get to Peking without delay.
I'll tell you what I think. The conspirators are aware that we are trying
to run them down. If they can stop us before we fully identify them,
their part in the plot against Uncle Sam will never be known." Rest
assured, then,