ALICE AND THE CHINESE PRINCESS.
To make a quick opening of the box containing the Chinese Princess was quite impossible.
Besides the difficulties already explained, there were others.
The box was not nailed.
Examination showed that it was put together with screws, and that the boards were of some hard wood.
Air-holes bored in the sides at regular intervals showed that the imprisoned princess certainly ought to have no difficulty in breathing, and made it seem that her present unconsciousness was probably nothing more than a faint.
The landing at the bulkhead had now been made.
There appeared to be no watchman here—at least no one challenged the Secret Service party.
Behind the bulkhead extended a row of storage warehouses.
The boat had been tied up opposite a break in this row formed by a street extending back towards Amador street, the first of which parallels the Islais Creek Channel on the south.
The Bradys had plenty of rope, and the work of unloading now began.
Harry got into the sailboat along with the kicker and remained there.
Old King Brady, Alice and the other two Secret Service men ascended to the bulkhead.
Such boxes and opium bales as were piled on the larger box were transferred to the launch, and a rope made fast around the box, which was then hauled up, but not without considerable difficulty, and carried in front of the first warehouse of the row, where it was placed on the board platform.
Alice now called again to the imprisoned princess, but received no answer.
"I'll be blest if I see how we are ever going to get this thing open without a screw-driver," grumbled one of the Secret Service men.
"I can supply that want," replied the old detective, who usually has a few tools concealed in some of the many pockets of that wonderful blue coat.
He hastily produced it and went to work.
The screw-driver was not only a small affair, but the blade folded into a slot in the handle.
The joint being loose, it made the tool wobbly.
Old King Brady soon discovered that he had attempted the impossible. He could not start a single screw.
"This is a bad job," he exclaimed. "We shall have to lower the box again. I greatly fear that we are up against a murder case. If the woman was alive, she would surely have revived before this."
"She said she was dying," replied Alice. "It begins to look as if she spoke the truth."
"Get back to the boat," called Harry. "We may as well run around to the India Basin warehouse. We shall be able to open the box there."
"I see no other way," replied Old King Brady, and once again he started to make fast the rope, when suddenly Harry called that he could hear the sound of oars.
"Which way?" demanded the old detective.
"Up the channel. Don't seem to be far off, either."
"Come, boys," said Old King Brady, "we'll sneak along the bulkhead and see who it is. Crouch low, now. If it is the Chinamen prowling about, we may be able to bag them. Alice, you better go aboard the launch."
"I'll stay here and watch the box," replied Alice.
The old detective and the two Secret Service men now crept along the line of the bulkhead with their revolvers drawn.
Alice quickly lost sight of them in the fog, which was now thicker than ever.
"Alice, are you all right up there?" called Harry.
"Of course," she replied. "Why not?"
"I wish you would come down."
"And abandon my imprisoned princess? I won't."
Harry and Alice are lovers, and practically engaged.
Long ago they would have been married if Alice would only consent to give up her work.
But Alice is perfectly fascinated with the life of a detective, so the marriage day is forever being postponed, for Harry insists that Alice shall give up the business before becoming his wife.
But even under their present relations he sometimes tries to force her to yield to his ideas more than she cares for, although he has long ago learned that she is a difficult person to drive.
Harry knew by her tone now that Alice had made up her mind to stay just where she was, so he let the matter drop and was sitting in the launch in silence when suddenly a shot rang out.
It was followed by another, and others still.
Then Old King Brady shouted something in the distance, but Harry could not make out what he said.
"Alice!" he called, "can you hear what the governor is saying?"
There was no answer.
"She don't seem to hear you," observed the kicker.
"Alice!" shouted Harry again.
Still no answer.
"Can she have gone forward to see what that shooting is about?" he exclaimed. "It would be just like her. I'm going up to see."
"I hear somebody running," cried the kicker.
Just then Old King Brady was heard calling out:
"Lay for them, Harry! Chinks in a boat! Coming your way!"
Young King Brady listened, catching the sound of oars.
But it was only for a minute.
"They have either stopped or muffled their oars!" he said when he heard Old King Brady right above him exclaim:
"Good heavens! What's this?"
"Anything the matter with Alice?" cried Harry, and he went up the standing ladder flying.
Old King Brady was peering about in the fog.
The two Secret Service men were just coming up.
"What is it?" cried Harry. "Where's Alice? I have called her several times, but she don't answer."
"Why, I left her right here, and that box with her; both seem to have vanished," Old King Brady answered in a tone which fully betrayed his anxiety.
But it was easy to mistake the exact position in the fog.
A moment's search revealed the puzzling fact that nowhere on the bulkhead Alice and the heavy box containing the imprisoned princess was to be found.
The Bradys and the Secret Service men pushed about everywhere.
One of the first things they did was to turn the corner of the end warehouse and look there along the street.
"She has been captured and carried off. She must have gone this way," Harry exclaimed.
"Or into one of the warehouses," said Old King Brady.
"I'll get up the street. You get along by the warehouses," cried Harry, and he started away on the run.
It was ten minutes before he returned.
"Learned anything?" demanded Old King Brady, anxiously.
"Nothing. I went two blocks. Didn't see a soul; no need to ask you if you had better luck, I suppose?"
"I had none at all. I have tried the different doors, but I can't find any that is open now, whatever the case may have been a few minutes ago."
And such are the circumstances of the most mysterious disappearance Alice has ever made, and she has made many, for, of course, troubles form a part of the life of a detective.
Poor Harry was in despair. Old King Brady exceedingly anxious and also vexed with himself to think that he had not insisted upon Alice going aboard the boat.
"And you heard no noise of any kind?" he asked for the third time.
"Not a sound," replied Harry. "I was sitting quiet in the boat, too."
"When was the last you heard her speak?"
"Just before the firing began. Was it you who fired?"
"We fired back at three Chinamen who fired on us from a boat."
"Sailboat—rowboat?"
"Rowboat. Didn't you hear the sound of oars?"
"Yes, yes! I am so rattled that I hardly know what I'm saying. What on earth shall we do?"
"We have to look after our captured opium, too. You remain here, Harry, and Leggett can stop with you. I'll run the stuff around into the India Basin and make sure of it. Don't you go doing the disappearance act now."
"Same to you, governor. Oh, these Chinks! I wish we might never have another mix-up with them."
Old King Brady made no reply, but hastily descended to the launch, which towed the captured sailboat to a bonded warehouse on the India Basin, where Secret Service men were waiting to receive them.
It was daybreak before he got back to the Islais Creek Channel again.
The fog had vanished with the night, and a hot August wind was blowing the sand about after the usual San Francisco style.
Harry and the Secret Service man were standing on the bulkhead.
"Have you learned anything?" demanded Old King Brady as the launch drew near.
"Not a thing, worse luck," replied Harry. "If ever there was a mystery it is this."
"It is certainly a bad job," replied the old detective, "but such as it is we must make the best of it. Let us wait for the opening up of these warehouses. Information of some sort may come from a quarter we least suspect."
Seven o'clock came, bringing with it the men connected with the warehouses.
Among them was the dock foreman, who demanded the Bradys' business.
He seemed slightly startled when he saw the Secret Service shield.
"Who is Volckman?" demanded the old detective, abruptly.
"I am Volckman," was the reply.
"What's your position here?"
"I am dock foreman."
"Which means that you have charge of the laborers?"
"Yes."
"Who is superintendent of these stores?"
"Mr. Renshaw."
"When is he due here?"
"Eight o'clock."
"Will he remain here right along after that?"
"Yes; all day."
"I want to see Mr. Renshaw. Tell him Old King Brady was speaking to you, and that he will return in about an hour."
The Bradys went away in their launch then, going to breakfast at the Palace Hotel, where they were staying.
The first thing Old King Brady did upon their arrival at the hotel was to call up Secret Service Commissioner Narraway and tell him of their partial success.
He did not mention Alice's disappearance nor the matter of the Chinese princess, leaving these things to be communicated by word of mouth later on when, it was to be hoped, he would understand them better himself.
Breakfast over, the Bradys lost no time in keeping their appointment with Mr. Renshaw, who proved to be a civil, intelligent gentleman.
Old King Brady at once explained the whole situation.
"This certainly seems to be a serious piece of business," said Mr. Renshaw after hearing the old detective through. "I can't understand what brought these Chinamen here or how they came to use Mr. Volckman's name. Is there no possibility of Miss Montgomery being mistaken?"
"I don't think so. Her knowledge of Chinese is excellent."
"And her disappearance a serious matter for you, I realize. I can't imagine that she and this singular box can have been taken into any of our warehouses."
"You have perfect confidence in Volckman?"
"Always have had. Would you like to question him? I will send for him if you wish."
"No; I think not. I certainly do suspect the man of being mixed up in this business, but it will do no good to make him aware of it; still I should like to be given the opportunity to search these warehouses in every part."
"And so you shall. I will go with you myself. If there is any crooked work going on here I want to know it."
The search was made accordingly, but nothing came of it.
"Listen, Mr. Renshaw," said the old detective as they were about to part. "To-day a laboring man will apply for work at this office. He wants to be hired and given a job, which will enable him to watch Volckman."
"I understand," was the reply, "and so it shall be."
And so it was. Secret Service man Leggett, an excellent detective in his way, was the person selected, but three days passed, and at the end of that time he had nothing to report.
Nor had a word been heard of Alice.
This time her disappearance seemed to be a serious matter.
The Bradys exhausted every effort to find her, but in vain.
CHAPTER III.
LUNG & LUNG.
It is needless to dwell upon the anxiety of the Bradys over the strange vanishing of their accomplished partner.
They were otherwise very seriously inconvenienced.
The Secret Service people, satisfied with the very valuable haul the detectives had made in the line of smuggled opium, now called them off.
The Bradys are not regular Secret Service men.
They have, however, an arrangement with the Government under which their services can be claimed at any time.
The day after Alice's disappearance Old King Brady was notified by Mr. Narraway that the regular force would finish up the matter, inasmuch as he felt satisfied that the heavy loss they had sustained must have bankrupted the smugglers.
Thus under ordinary circumstances the detectives would have made haste to cross the continent and get back to their own business in New York.
As it was, they had no idea of leaving San Francisco yet awhile, of course.
Each day was devoted to the search for Alice.
Even the police took a hand in the game, much as Old King Brady dislikes to have them mix up in his affairs, but as we have said before, it was all in vain.
On the morning of the fourth day before the Bradys had yet left the hotel, a page announced that a Chinaman wished to speak to the old detective, and at the same time he handed in a business card printed in English on one side, and in Chinese on the other.
The English side read thus:
LUNG & LUNG,
General Importers,
1015 Dupont Street,
San Francisco, Cal.
Ah Lung
Gee Lung
Wun Lung.
"The whole Lung family," remarked the old detective, looking at the card. "Show the man up."
It proved to be Ah Lung who came.
He was a very much Americanized proposition, California born and college educated.
In short, both in dress, intelligence and manner he was as perfect a specimen of a Chinese gentleman as the Bradys had ever seen.
Before proceeding further we must pause to explain that while the Bradys through their influence had been able to keep the matter of Alice's disappearance and the boxed-up princess off the police blotter, and so out of the papers, it was an open secret among the force.
Consequently it was no surprise to the detectives to have this Chinaman at once allude to it.
"Mr. Brady," he began, "I want you if you will to take up an important matter for our firm, which you will find upon investigation, if you are not already aware of it, stands high in San Francisco commercial circles."
Old King Brady had heard of the firm of Lung & Lung, and said so. He doubted, however, if he cared to take up a case for them.
"It is work you are already engaged in," replied Ah Lung quickly. "It concerns the Chinese princess, Skeep Hup, who disappeared along with your Miss Montgomery the other day."
"What do you know about that?" demanded Old King Brady, "and who told you?"
"My information comes through my cousin, who is interpreter at police headquarters," replied Ah Lung. "I am prepared to tell you what I know of the Chinese princess. I suppose the information will interest you in any case."
"It certainly will," said the old detective. "Fire away, Mr. Lung. This puts altogether a different face on the matter."
"It is this way," continued Ah Lung. "I have had frequent occasion in the course of business to visit China, and, being a merchant, am allowed to come and go as I please. When in Pekin, some three years ago, I was introduced to this Chinese princess, as you have called her. She is not actually a member of the Imperial family, but the daughter of a very wealthy Mandarin. I fell in love with her, and it was finally arranged that we should marry. It was my intention to go to China after her, but the illness of my brother Wun prevented it, so she started to come to me. I supposed her to be a passenger on the Manchuria, the last steamer in from China. I was so informed by letters I received, but when I went to meet her at the wharf, I was surprised to learn that her name was not on the passenger list. Both the purser and the steward informed me that she had not been seen on the steamer.
"I immediately cabled to China, but it was only to be told that she had started for Shanghai with the intention of taking passage on the Manchuria, and that it was supposed by the family that she had done so. She traveled from Pekin in company of a man named Wang Foo, a cousin of hers. This person was to return to Pekin after seeing the princess off. He had failed to put in an appearance at the time the answer to my cablegram was sent, nor had anything been heard from him.
"You can imagine my anxiety, gentlemen. I was quite at a loss to know what to do when my cousin told me the story of your adventures with that bunch of opium smugglers. That was late last night, and not wishing to disturb you, I put off my call until this morning. If you can find my intended, you will probably also solve the mystery of the disappearance of your partner. It is up to you."
"Oh we will take up your case, of course, Mr. Lung," said Old King Brady. "Have you any idea what the motive for all this can be? Any starting clew to give us?"
"None whatever. I am just as much in the dark over the matter as you are."
"Suppose this Wang Foo wanted to marry the princess?"
"Would he box her up and treat her as he has if he loved her?" put in Harry, speaking for the first time.
"Listen," said Ah Lung, "Chinamen are not all fiends, as you may think."
"I don't think so," retorted Harry. "There are white fiends as well as yellow fiends."
"You are more liberal-minded than most of your race," replied the Chinaman, "but we will leave the white fiends out of the question. Yellow ones there certainly are in this town, and I greatly fear that it is into their hands the princess has fallen."
"Is there money coming to the man who marries her?" demanded Old King Brady, abruptly.
"That's just it. There was $20,000 of what you call dowry to go with the princess. As you are probably aware, among my people women rarely carry with them dowry. On the other hand, men who want to marry have to pay for their wives—buy them, you call it, though I never could understand where the difference comes in between paying for husbands, as is done right along in America. However, that is not the point. In this case it is different. The Princess Skeep Hup had in her own right $10,000, given to her by her mother. As our women do not take care of their own money matters, that money was to come to me. It was sent to me by mail in the form of a draft on the Bank of California, and I have it now, so that can't be the reason for kidnaping the princess, you see."
"All of which makes the mystery additionally puzzling," said Old King Brady. "But now listen, you, Mr. Lung. There is but just one thing certain in this case outside of the fact that a voice from that box told Miss Montgomery that the Princess Skeep Hup was inside, which I, knowing her knowledge of Chinese, believe."
"So do I," declared Ah Lung, emphatically. "I know Miss Montgomery by reputation, and can well believe it. But this one thing you speak of!"
"Is the fact that the matter was managed by opium smugglers. If we can catch on to who these people were we may stand some chance of success in our chase after this Chinese princess."
Ah Lung sat silent for some time.
"What you say is true," he said at last. "I could help you in that if——"
"Well, if?"
"If I could feel sure that the Secret Service people would not interfere with me."
"In other words, Lung & Lung sometimes deal in smuggled hop."
"I make no statements. What I want is a guarantee."
"Assure me upon your honor that you are not mixed up with this gang and you shall have it."
"Oh, I do, Mr. Brady; indeed I do. The worst Lung & Lung have ever done is to buy cheap opium without asking questions."
"Very well, I accept that. Do what you will. I want to help you out and to help myself out at the same time. Now then, what do you propose?"
"Listen here," said Ah Lung, lowering his voice. "You Secret Service men captured a lot of that opium the other night, but you didn't get it all by any means. There was another boat load which ran in ahead of the one you captured."
"I can well believe it. The people in that boat fired at me in the fog."
"I am told that Young King Brady is very successful in masquerading as a Chinaman."
"Who told you that?" demanded Harry.
"My cousin at Police Headquarters."
"And what about it?"
"Can you meet me to-night at eight o'clock at our store on Dupont street so disguised?"
"I could, of course. But why?"
"I must not tell, but you can guess. I have an appointment. I want you with me."
"I'll go, but there is one thing you must understand, I can't speak Chinese. I always play the dummy when I disguise that way."
"That will be all right. I was born in San Francisco, and, as it happens, brought up in a part of the city where I associated only with English-speaking children. My own knowledge of the Chinese language is very poor. I never speak it unless I am obliged to. I won't speak it in this interview. You can and shall be a witness to all that is said. I know you play the dummy when in Chinese disguise. I want you to play it to-night."
"Settled then," said Harry, "I will be on hand."
There was some further talk, but as it developed nothing, it is not worth recording.
Soon after Ah Lung left.
"A lucky thing this matter came up, governor," observed Harry.
"It promises well," replied the old detective. "That's about all we can say for it, but we must work ahead just as though it had not come up."
It was a busy day the Bradys put in, but nothing came of it.
Towards five o'clock Harry turned up at the hotel, where he found a note from Old King Brady, reading:
"Dear Harry: I have just had a call over the 'phone from Leggett. He wants to see me at the Harper House, on Mission street, and that's where I am going now. Don't know what for, but I suppose it relates to Volckman. Don't wait for me. Be very careful of yourself to-night.
"O. K. B."
Was the caution needed?
It certainly was.
For a detective to mix up with Chinese opium smugglers in Chinatown, San Francisco, is always dangerous.
But Young King Brady felt confidence in Ah Lung.
Not only had he taken a liking to the man, personally, but having gone to the trouble to look him up in a business way, he found that the standing of the firm in white circles was very high.
"Half a million capital invested," one person stated.
"Good for anything they want to buy here," another firm declared.
"Squarest Chinese house in San Francisco," said another, and so on.
So Harry made his Chinese disguise, and at eight o'clock turned up at the handsome new store on Dupont street, near Sacramento, where the Lung Brothers held forth.
Inquiring for Ah Lung, he came up against his brother Wun, who was quite a different proposition, being in native dress and speaking broken English.
"Ah, him go joss house," he said. "Say, you comee longer me. Meetee him dlere."
Harry assented, and to the new Jackson street joss house, the most important Chinese temple of America, they went.
The big hall contained many Chinamen, most of them standing around with their hats on talking business, for this joss house has a good deal of the character of a Chinese commercial exchange.
But there were worshipers there before the idols, if they can be so called.
Really, it bears no resemblance to Christian worship.
When a Chinaman gets down on his knees before the idols and throws joss sticks out of a box just as a gambler would throw dice, he is consulting the spirits of his ancestors as to what course to take in business, love or pleasure. Just this and nothing more.
There were about twenty Chinamen thus engaged when Harry entered the Jackson street joss house, and among them he spied Ah Lung throwing the sticks for all he was worth.
"Dlere he be. We waitee," said Wun Lung. "Him findee out what go to happen to-night."
So Harry stood waiting while the joss stick throwing went merrily on.