“If you’re a man of sense,” said Murphy roughly, “ye’ll do as you’re told.”
All thought of that devious passage which was the only entrance to the room, of the barred doors across it, and of the villainous, armed Chinamen along the route. Murphy was right. Mr. Temple would have to obey.
“But, look here,” he said, taking up the pen and preparing to write. “What are you going to do with us?”
“The Big Boss is gonna take ye to sea with him while he recuperates,” said Murphy. “Ye give him a fractured skull that’ll take him a while to get over. But the minute he opens his eyes he plans what to do with ye an’ tells me. He says he’ll save ye up to deal with when he recovers. He’s savin’ ye up for himself. See?”
They saw. Only too plainly. “Black George” was a vengeful man who meant to exact full measure for his injuries. With a sinking heart, Mr. Temple wrote the note demanded. Note in hand, Murphy paused at the door for a last word ere departing.
“I wouldn’t like to be in your shoes,” he said.
[CHAPTER IX—THE POWER OF THE UNDERWORLD]
This was a blow. Decidedly, a blow.
As the door closed behind Murphy, Mr. Temple and the boys looked at each other with dismay written plainly on every countenance. They were to be taken to sea at once, and to an unnamed destination. Furthermore, Mr. Temple had been compelled to write to the Palace Hotel management a note which would prevent suspicion being aroused by their failure to return to their rooms. Mr. Temple’s business associates would inquire for him at the hotel next day, when he failed to keep appointments, and would be told of the explanation contained in the note. They might consider his departure abrupt and unusual, but certainly they would not be likely to consider it so strange as to demand investigation by the police.
What hope was there that their disappearance would cause a police investigation that might, possibly, lead to their relief? Or that at least would be heralded in the papers, and so come, perhaps, to