They expressed hate, despair, desperate intents. As they stood there Frank reached forward and snatched a queue-wig from the head of the man nearest him.
"There he is!" Jimmie cried. "There's the old boy, Ned—the smooth gink we saw at Taku, at Tientsin, and at numerous places on the road. I wonder how he likes the scene?"
Ned motioned to the six to step into the room. Three of them objected, then swords flashed in the light of the corridor and they moved on.
They were followed by the three boys and half a dozen policemen, all with automatics in view. At a motion from the leader of the officers the six were searched and ironed. Jack nudged Frank in the ribs with his elbow as the handcuffs clicked on the wrists of the man who had so persistently followed them from the coast of the Yellow Sea.
"That's a good sport," he said. "I like to see a fellow play the game!"
The prisoner turned a pair of treacherous eyes on the boys and a cynical smile curled his thin lips.
"You have the cards now," he said, in English, "but look out for the new deal. I'll keep you busy yet."
"Go to it!" laughed Jack. "Go as far as you like, only I fail to see how you're going to get into the game again. Looks like you were all in, just now!"
"Wait!" said the other, scornfully.
There now came a knock at the door and Ned opened it to admit Captain Martin, who looked as if he had just left his bed after an unsatisfactory sleep. He cast his eyes about the room with amazement showing in every glance.