"Soak um!" cried Hans.
The German was about to adopt his own suggestion by passing a blow out to the nearest Chinaman when the consul stepped before him. For an instant the threatening natives stepped back. The attacking of the American consul was a thing to be seriously considered.
"Once more!" warned the consul. "Give me the cablegram."
At a motion from the assistant manager the brown men closed threateningly about the American again. There was malice in their eyes as they pressed closer and closer.
"This looks like another Boxer uprising!" exclaimed the consul. "Mr.
Nestor," he added, "if you will assemble yourself at my back, and our
German friend will stand by, we'll give 'em a run for their white alley.
Hit hard and often."
There is no knowing what might have happened then had not an interruption fell. Ned saw the crowd at the door vanish, and the next instant the friendly popping of motorcycles rang a chorus in the air.
Then came the rattle of guns and sabers, and a line of bluecoats stood before the door. At their head stood Jimmie, wrinkling his freckled nose as if for dear life.
Ned sprang to the door and opened it.
"Quick!" he cried. "Don't let a man now in the room get away."
"Where is Captain Martin, the officer in charge?" asked one of the men.