“Come on!” Phil exclaimed eagerly. Then he cast an uncertain look at the captive whom Sydney had bound hand and foot, securing a gag in his mouth and muffling his ears so that he could hear only the loudest tones.
“We must leave him behind,” Langdon insisted immediately, interpreting the glance. “He must take his chances.”
“I don’t dare leave him there,” Phil exclaimed. “He might be killed by the Chinese. No, the consequences would be too serious.”
“Then what are we to do?” the pilot asked impatiently. “He would as soon stick a knife in you if you were in his power.”
“I know,” Phil declared stoutly, “but I am going to get him on board his own ship.”
“But how on earth can you?” Langdon exclaimed in disgust at Phil’s leniency. If the pilot could have had his way he would have wrung his neck then and there, which punishment the foreigner doubtless deserved.
Phil did not reply immediately. A bold plan had flashed through his mind, and he was rapidly revolving it in his thoughts to discover if it was feasible.
“Tell the Chinese to carry the prisoner,” he said finally, his mind fully made up to attempt the one scheme which seemed to give the foreign commander a chance for his life. If he left him in the foreign concession his life would not be worth a copper cash when the robbers from the city came back to complete their ghoulish work.
Langdon trusted Phil’s judgment too thoroughly to demur, so he quietly gave Nam-Sing his orders, and then the three Americans started, cautiously leading the way down the alley and out upon the street running toward the river.
Reaching the “Bund,” Nam-Sing pointed out the direction of the launch, which appeared to be their last chance for safety. Passing the waiting launch of Commander Ignacio, Phil glanced uneasily at the sailors; but they appeared to give them but passing notice.