Part 25 (1/2)

”Well, I will do what I can. But, remember, we kings can't do what we once could. Seems to me I told you that before. The war did the business for us. And I would not dare suggest taking a consort. The Pipes would never stand for it.”

”Whom do you call 'the Pipes'?” Ruth asked wonderingly.

”Look about you. See them? Already they are beginning to smoke up again.

And it is a dirty smell. I have to go out and roam about the island to get away from it. Dreadful! To give up my throne room to nasty little bra.s.s pipes. Ugh!”

While he was speaking the girl stared about her, now better able to see the place and the people in it. There were at least half a dozen men. And all were Chinamen, as far as she could see, although not all were dressed in blouse and loose trousers and wadded slippers--the usual costume of the un-westernized Chinaman.

Two of the men were lying down, and there were tiny lamps sputtering on the low stools, or tables, set close to their heads. They held long-stemmed pipes with small bra.s.s bowls, and had begun to smoke something that had a very pungent and disagreeable odor.

Ruth's mind had begun to clear. She remembered the heavy boxes she and Chess had seen brought ash.o.r.e, and the Chinaman in the speed launch, and then the yellow-faced woman being taken on this very day toward the American sh.o.r.e. The whole puzzle began to fit together like a piece of patchwork.

Chinamen; a high-powered boat going back and forth across the St.

Lawrence; a hidden cave on this supposedly uninhabited island; the heavy boxes; the smoking of this vile paste which she now saw a third Chinaman dip out of a tiny bowl, on a stick, and drop into his pipe in the form of a ”pill.”

_Opium!_

If these men--and the white men of the speed launch--did any smuggling it was not diamonds they smuggled. It was opium. And they were probably running Chinese across the border as well. Ruth knew that she was in a very serious predicament when she had swiftly thought this out, if she had not realized it before.

What would these evil-looking yellow men do to her--and to poor Chess?

The latter, she was relieved to feel, was biding his time. But what chance was likely to arise which would lead to their escape from this cavern?

She looked about the place. Two of the yellow men were between her and the pa.s.sage through which she and her companion had been dragged. If she wanted to, she could not make a dash for liberty.

She turned again to the bedraggled and ragged-haired old man, curiosity about whom had led to this predicament. The King of the Pipes was watching her with eyes that glittered like a bird's.

”Hus.h.!.+” he whispered, moving nearer again. ”You cannot escape. The Pipes are very strong and very agile. They would not let you. To tell the truth, they fear so much for my safety that I haven't the freedom myself that I would sometimes like.”

”Can't you leave this place?” Ruth asked softly.

”Hus.h.!.+” he warned her in his usual stealthy way. ”Don't speak of it. Of course a king can do no wrong, and naturally a king can do as he pleases.

Otherwise, what is kings.h.i.+p? But it is always well to bow to the peculiarities and the prejudices of one's subjects. They do not like me to leave the throne-room at certain times. So I do not attempt to do so.

When you met me before, my dear, there was n.o.body on the island but myself. But to-night you see how many are here, and more yet to come.”

”More Chinamen?” she whispered.

”No. Perhaps no more of the Pipes,” and she thought he showed involuntary disgust of the opium-smokers. ”But other subjects of mine who must be catered to. Oh, dear, yes! Being a king is not all it is cracked up to be, I a.s.sure you.”

For some reason Ruth felt more alarm because of this last statement of the poor old man than of anything that had gone before. She realized that he, of course, really had no influence with the opium smugglers. But she began to understand that there were other men coming here who might be more savage than the Chinamen.

She remembered that there had been several white men in the launch when she had observed it, and that on one occasion Horatio Bilby had been one of them. Now, Ruth felt not only a great distaste for Bilby, but she feared him exceedingly.

It might be that the red-faced fat man who had so fretted Mr. Hammond and her about Wonota, had only crossed the river in the launch as a pa.s.senger. He might have no close connection with the opium smugglers.

But knowing Bilby as she did, Ruth could imagine that he might be mixed up in almost any illegal business that promised large returns in money.