“Perhaps. I don’t know what your name may be. The[Pg 40] main thing is that you are a member of the Yellow Tong, and that you are trying to steal these papers for your chief, the infamous Sang Tu.”
“He is not infamous!” shouted Ched Ramar indignantly. “He is the greatest man in the world to-day, and it will not be long before he will control every nation on earth.”
“Beginning with the United States, I suppose?” exclaimed Nick Carter ironically.
“Yes. We have this country of yours mapped out and given to different sections of our great organization already,” snarled Ched Ramar. “As for giving up, why—see here!”
He bent almost double, as he exerted every ounce of his immense strength to tear the scimitar away from the detective. The latter felt the handle slipping through his fingers. But he had strength, too, and in another instant he had gained a firmer hold than ever, as he pushed with all his might against the powerful bulk of his towering antagonist.
For a moment neither side gave way. It was like two mountains pressing against each other. No one could say what the end might be. They might stand thus for an indefinite period.
But they didn’t. Nick Carter felt his foe yield ever so little—not more than a fraction of an inch. But the fact remained that he had given way slightly, and Nick was quick to take advantage of anything that would help him in such a desperate fight as this.
He pushed harder, and back went Ched Ramar two or three inches this time.
“Keshub!” shouted Ched Ramar.
But Keshub had his own troubles just now. Chick had applied a backheel to him, and was slowly pushing him backward, until he must fall flat on his back, while Patsy hovered above them and grumbled because he couldn’t get into the fight.