"Speak up, man," growled Gray. "And remember what I said about giving the alarm. I don't know if this costume is a masquerade or not, but—I can't afford to take chances this time."
Delabar did not meet his gaze. He lay back on the sand, fingers plucking at his thin lips.
"I can't speak," he responded hoarsely.
"You can. And you will. You'll tell me what I want to know—this time. You lied to me before. Now you'll deal a straight hand. This is not an idle threat. I must have information."
Delabar glanced at him fleetingly. Then looked around. No one was in sight, as they lay in a pocket in the sand.
"What do you want to know?"
"A whole lot. First—how did you get here? I thought all white men were barred."
"Wu Fang Chien," said Delabar moodily. "He caught me the day after I left you. He shot the coolie and had me brought here."
"What's the meaning of that?" Gray nodded contemptuously at the yellow robe.
"Wu Fang Chien punished me. He forced me to join the Buddhist priests who act as guards of Sungan. He did not want me to escape from China. Here, I was safe under his men."