Charles Keene shrugged his shoulders.
“Perhaps you would like to discuss it with your nephew. And I’m sure the Ancient One could advise you well.” Ping Lu clapped his hands. The door through which Charles Keene had entered opened again. Across the room came a tall, white-robed man. Biff glanced at the man, then stared hard at him. It was Palung, the Chinese who had attempted to kidnap him at the Rangoon airport.
Palung didn’t even look at Biff. Biff’s escape from him and his two knife-wielding thugs, had undoubtedly caused Palung to lose face. Certainly Palung must have been disgraced in the eyes of his superior, Ping Lu.
“Show our guests to the large court. They have much to talk about. And be sure this time the young one doesn’t get away.” The expression on Ping Lu’s face, the bark in his voice plainly said, “That’s an order.”
The two guards who had escorted Charles Keene into the room took their positions behind the three. A short, crisp sentence came from Ping Lu’s lips. The Ancient One arose from his chair and joined them. Palung led them from the room. The guards stayed close behind.
The room they were taken to was large, but sparsely furnished. There were two wooden chairs, plain but sturdy. Low benches, used for sleeping, lined the walls.
The door closed behind the four, and they could hear a key turning in the door’s lock. No one spoke for several moments. Then Biff went to the door to peer through its barred window. His stare was returned by a guard’s expressionless face.
Biff turned back to rejoin the group.
“All right, young man,” Charles Keene said. “Now suppose you just tell me how you happen to be here.”
“I will, Uncle Charlie. But first, don’t you think we’d better check to see if this room is bugged?”