“Halt! Stop! Outraged as his excellency feels, he is coming to listen for himself to your impertinence.”
“Halt!” ordered Dave, in a low tone. Again the machine gun was set up. But this time no delay was attempted. The same score of soldiers marched around the angle, halted and formed on either side of the corridor. Next came Ah Sin Foo, with tablet, ink and writing brush, while a servant carried a small table.
Behind them came five more officials, then one whom, from his elaborate Chinese costume, Darrin took to be the governor. After that personage came several other men.
Suddenly Dave Darrin started perceptibly. Among the governor’s followers, richly dressed, was none other than Mr. “Burnt-face,” lately of Manila!
“Now, what the mischief can ‘Burnt-face’ be doing here?” Darrin gasped inwardly. “And, by the same token, what was he really doing in Manila?”
“Step out and get two or three of the missionaries who understand Chinese,” Dave ordered in a low voice to the sailor nearest him.
Striking his hands together for silence, the Chinese governor sank down upon a richly carved chair which a yamen servant placed for him. Then he addressed Sin Foo in Chinese.
“His excellency demands to know the meaning of this extraordinary conduct,” translated the under secretary.
“Ask his excellency if he is aware that the city is now alive with rioters?” requested Dave.
There was some conversation in Chinese, after which Sin Foo replied: