"They will not be found," said the Chinaman. "There is no reason why anything of the sort should happen. They have no means of communicating with anyone passing upon the river. And there is nothing extraordinary in the spectacle of a junk lying anchored clear of the mid-stream fairway. You yourself often must have seen upon the Chinese rivers thousands of such boats with not a soul visible on board. In all such cases the crew has either gone ashore to drink samshu or to smoke opium, or else they lie asleep below. I am anxious about nothing--except, perhaps, Yung How," he added, in an altered voice.
"And the money has not come?" asked Frank.
"It is coming," said Ling. "That is why I awakened you."
"It is coming now!" The boy sprang to his feet.
Ling pointed to the west, in the direction of the river. There, sure enough, about half-a-mile down-stream, was a small white launch, similar to those which may be seen by the score in Hong-Kong harbour, heading straight for the southern bank, for the Glade of Children's Tears.
Like a great vulture in the heavens that soars higher and higher in a series of concentric circles, Ling from the top of the tower looked down upon his prey. After the manner of a vulture, he did but bide his time.
The launch ran into a narrow creek, and for a moment was hidden from view by the trees of the little wood. Shortly after, it appeared again, and both Frank and Ling watched the Chinese sailors tie her up to a stunted tree that overhung the water. On board were three Europeans, dressed in white ducks and wearing sun-helmets. The launch was too far away for Frank to recognise these men.
And then they witnessed a sight that made the dark eyes of the great Honanese glitter with triumph and greed; his wide mouth expanded in a smile. A plank was thrown from the launch to the shore. Across this gangway bag after bag was carried, each one so heavy with silver that it required two men to lift it.
At last the task was ended. The Europeans, who had superintended the discharging of this precious cargo, returned to the launch, which presently turned slowly round and made off down-stream. In the red light of the setting sun, on the surface of the water, they could see the convergent lines of ripples spreading from the bows of the launch.
Ling laughed.