The Boy Scout Camera Club | Page 7

blood," Jack declared. "And it is wet, too! What
do you make of this, Ned? Was Chang Chu attacked and killed by that
sneak thief?"
"That is for us to find out," Ned answered. "At the present moment, it
looks as if Chang Chu wouldn't be found on Pell or Doyers street. What
is there is those boxes--the large ones sitting against the wall?"
"About everything, I take it. I never looked into them. Why?"
"We may as well see what they contain," Ned replied, advancing to the
largest box and throwing up the cover. "What do you think now?" he
asked, as a huddled figure stirred in the box and opened a pair of
suffering eyes. "This is the Chink, I suppose?"
Before Jack could reply, Ned had the man out of the box, with the
cords cut from his hands and feet, the cruel gag removed from his
mouth. His blue blouse was gone! Chang Chu tumbled over on the
floor when Ned tried to stand him on his feet. There was a small cut on
his head.
"Chang velly much bum!" he said, with his hands on his stomach.
"Chang never forgets a word of slang," Jack laughed. "He will

remember the slang word for anything when he forgets the real word!
What did they do to you, Chang?" he continued, addressing the
Chinaman.
Chang pressed his hands to his nose significantly and dropped his head
back.
"Chloroform!" Ned declared, sniffing at the contents of the box.
The Chinaman could not describe the man who had attacked him. He
had been alone in the attic, putting away old clothes, when he had been
struck and seized from behind by a man he described as a giant for
strength, stripped of his blouse, and lifted bodily into the box. There he
had been bound, gagged and rendered unconscious by the use of the
drug.
"The man who did it," mused Ned, "is an adept at crime, resourceful,
daring. The chloroform would have attracted the attention of the
servants at once if it had been administered in the open air. Then his
taking the Chink's blouse as a disguise shows that he is quick to take
advantage of his opportunities. A clever man."
"And he left no clue!" Jack complained. "Just our luck, Ned!"
"All we know is that he is tall, has light brown hair, and is very strong,"
Ned replied. "But there are ten thousand people in New York this
minute who answer to that description."
"How do you know he is tall?" demanded Jack.
"When he lay on the rug," Ned explained, "he stretched out on his
stomach to look through the hole, if he could. He couldn't; he could
only listen, for the cut was made so as to be hidden by the ornamental
brass piece that circles the rod from which the chandelier swings. The
marks of his elbows and toes were on the soft fiber of the rug, showing
him to be a man at least six feet tall."
Ned walked over to the large box again and bent over it.

"Crumbs!" he exclaimed, in a second. "Crumbs!"
"Then he must have brought a lunch up with him," Jack exclaimed
excitedly. "There is no knowing how long he was here!"
"Some one in Washington has leaked!" Ned declared, angrily.
"Why Washington?" demanded Jack. "Why not New York?"
"Because no one in this city knows about our being engaged to hunt
down the abductor. My instructions have all come in cypher, and some
of them have, as you know, been addressed to this house. And there
you are!"
Chang Chu arose limply, rubbing a small wound in his head from
which blood had come, and tottered off toward the staircase. As he did
so, Ned noticed that his pigtail was very black, very long, and very
greasy.
"Did he take you by the cue?" asked the boy. "Did he pull your hair?"
"Velly much lough-neck pull--dam!" answered the Chinaman.
Ned went back to the box where the Chink had been hidden and began
taking out the articles it held, slowly and one by one.
"The cloth he poured the chloroform on must be here," he said. "He
would naturally throw it into the box before shutting down the cover, as
there might still be enough of the drug in it to put the Chink to sleep."
"Here it is," Jack said, reaching into the box and lifting out a rag and
smelling of it. "Here is the dope cloth, all right and pretty strong yet."
"That's it, all right," Ned answered. "A worn white handkerchief, eh?"
"Name or mark on it?" asked Jack, passing the cloth to Ned.
"Nothing of the sort," was the answer, "but there's something better.
When the fellow pulled at the Chink's