Part 2 (1/2)

”Hostile influences have been operating all around us. Now,” he continued, as Frank opened his lips to ask a question, ”we'll see what sort of a tale the camera has to tell.”

As he looked at the films his face hardened and his eyes snapped. In a moment he put the telltale sheets away.

”European fingerprints,” he said, quietly, ”and European footprints out there. It is not Chinamen that we have to look out for.”

”What the Old Harry--”

Jimmie checked himself as a figure darkened the doorway. Ned stepped forward to greet the newcomer.

The visitor was a youngish man with black hair, growing well down on a narrow forehead, small black eyes, a straight-lipped mouth, and hard lines about his deep-set eyes. His manner and carriage was that of a man 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 Was.h.i.+ngton?” 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 j.a.p. 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?”