Early in the gray of morning, Biff and Chuba were on the outskirts of the village. A stream of solemn-faced farmers passed through the city’s gate. Chuba and Biff attached themselves to the parade and entered unnoticed.
Biff had reached a decision. If any member of the House of Kwang could be located, he felt now would be the time to use the green ring. Keeping his voice low, he spoke to Chuba.
“Don’t ask any more questions about Uncle Charlie. But find out, if you can, if there are any members of the Kwang family around here.”
“I catch, Biff. If any Kwangs around, Chuba will locate them.”
The boys wandered through the sprawling city. They made for the market place, always the center of the most activity. Going from stall to stall, Chuba made his inquiries. He told the persons he questioned that once he and his father had served the House of Kwang. Now, he said, in a sad, tearful voice, he was only a beggar boy. If he could only find one of the young lords perhaps the lord would remember his father, and give Chuba a helping hand.
At mid-morning, Chuba hit pay dirt. He engaged in a long conversation with a young, slender Chinese. This Chinese was different from the broad-faced farmers, the stall-keepers, the uniformed soldiers who thronged the market place. His facial features were fine, his clothing cleaner and richer than that of those surrounding him.
Biff watched Chuba anxiously. He saw his friend bob his head up and down in agreement, then the two parted.
Chuba rejoined Biff, motioned to him to follow, and Chuba led the way back to the gates of the city. Once outside, Chuba told Biff of his conversation.
“This man I talk to. His name Chan Li. Once he young lord of house like House of Kwang. Not so big. Not so rich. But House of Li and House of Kwang good friends. House of Li taken over just like House of Kwang. He hate government bosses.”
Biff felt himself becoming excited. This could be the lead they had been searching for.