Old King Brady rushed after the flying Chinaman who was carrying the princess. He crossed a gangplank, and entered the house on the piles. Then part of the runway flew up, closing the doorway. Harry and Alice looked on.

No 658 SEPT 1ST 1911 5 Cents.

Secret Service.

The Bradys after a Chinese Princess

OR

The Yellow Fiends Of 'Frisco

By A New York Detective.

FRANK TOUSEY
PUBLISHER
·24
UNION SQUARE.
NEW-YORK.

SECRET SERVICE

OLD AND YOUNG KING BRADY, DETECTIVES

Issued Weekly—By Subscription $2.50 per year. Entered as Second Class Matter at the New York, N. Y., Post Office, March 1, 1899. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1911, in the office of the Librarian of Congress, Washington, D. C, by Frank Tousey, Publisher, 24 Union Square, New York.

CONTENTS

[CHAPTER I. THE MYSTERY THAT CAME OUT OF THE MIST.]
[CHAPTER II. ALICE AND THE CHINESE PRINCESS.]
[CHAPTER III. LUNG & LUNG.]
[CHAPTER IV. ALICE PASSES THROUGH THE DOOR OF DEATH.]
[CHAPTER V. OLD KING BRADY GETS DOWN TO BUSINESS.]
[CHAPTER VI. HEARD IN THE HOUSE OF THE SEVEN DELIGHTS.]
[CHAPTER VII. IN A TORTURE CHAMBER.]
[CHAPTER VIII. OLD KING BRADY BLUNDERS AHEAD AS BEST HE CAN.]
[CHAPTER IX. THE BRADYS GET TOGETHER ONCE AGAIN. BUT THE PRINCESS SLIPS THROUGH THEIR FINGERS.]
[CHAPTER X. TREASURE HUNTING.]
[CHAPTER XI. TOO LATE.]
[CHAPTER XII. CONCLUSION.]

THE BRADYS AFTER A CHINESE PRINCESS
OR,
THE YELLOW FIENDS OF 'FRISCO

CHAPTER I.

THE MYSTERY THAT CAME OUT OF THE MIST.

One foggy night a few years since at something after two o'clock, a good-sized motor boat containing five men might have been seen cruising close in to the water-front line of lower San Francisco.

Three of the occupants were big, husky fellows, who sat idly in the boat looking like men waiting to be called upon to act and prepared for any emergency.

A good-looking young fellow in his twenties was attending to engineer's duty, while astern sat an elderly man of striking appearance and peculiar dress.

He wore a long, blue coat with brass buttons, an old-fashioned stock and stand-up collar, and a big white hat with an unusually broad brim.

Clearly he was the leader of this outfit, whatever their business might be out there on the silent bay in the early morning hours.

He was a man accustomed to command, being none other than the world-famous detective, Old King Brady, chief of the Brady Detective Bureau of Union Square, New York.

And having made this statement, we need scarcely add that the young man in charge of the boat was his partner, Young King Brady, second in skill as a detective only to his great chief.

The detective had been ordered to San Francisco on special duty by the United States Secret Service Bureau.

Information had been received of the intention of certain Chinamen to run in opium on a large scale, dodging the duty due to Uncle Sam.

The information, while definite and reliable, was still vague.

Details were lacking, yet it was known that there was surely going to be something doing in the line during this particular week, and that whatever was done would take place in the neighborhood of the India Basin.

This made the fourth night the Bradys had been on the watch with three local Secret Service men as their aides.

It was discouraging work.

Nothing had happened.

The weak point of the undertaking was the lack of knowledge as to the particular ship or steamer on which the opium was expected to arrive.

Two steamers had arrived from China this week, one regular liner and one tramp.

Three sailing vessels had also come in, all from Chinese ports.

Yet it was by no means certain that the opium would enter the harbor of San Francisco in that way.

It is quite the custom with captains of English tramp steamers, and also with those of sailing vessels, to drop opium overboard in sealed rubber bags while off the Farraleone Islands.

Such bags are picked up by fishing schooners on hand for the purpose, and by them landed as best they can.

A close watch for such operations in this particular instance was being kept by a special revenue cutter outside the Golden Gate.

The Bradys' orders had to do only with the landing.

It was supposed that the people connected with some storage warehouse in this vicinity were and had been for some time standing in with the smugglers.

It was particularly desired by the Government to learn who these people were; to catch them red-handed and make an example of them.

That Chinese capital was back of this crooked enterprise was certain, but there was reason to believe that they were being substantially aided by others who were not of their race.

"If the fog would only lift we might be able to do something," remarked one of the Secret Service men, "but as it is I see little use in remaining here."

"Patience," replied Old King Brady. "We have to do the best we can, my friend. I admit that the fog is a nuisance, but I am not giving up yet by any means. Harry, work in a little nearer. We must be close upon the India Basin by this time."

The order was obeyed by Young King Brady.

After a few moments the wharf line became visible, the fog lifting a bit.

Then suddenly came a break.

"The basin," said the Secret Service man.

"I think not," replied Old King Brady. "I think it is only the Islais Creek Channel. Stop the boat, Harry. We will lie off here for a few minutes. Perhaps we are banking too much on these hop smugglers running into the basin. It may be one of the warehouses on the channel here after all."

Harry stopped the launch accordingly.

The ebb tide took them back and the fog closed in on the Islais Channel.

The boat ran against a wharf and the movement was stopped.

"Shall I pull up, governor?" inquired Young King Brady.

"No. We will rest as we are," said the old detective. "Quiet, now. Let us listen. I shall not remain long idle here."

"It isn't the least use," growled the Secret Service man. "There won't be nothing doing to-night."

Old King Brady made no reply.

This man was a chronic kicker. He had been at it right along.

But for the fact that he was also known to be a good fighter, Old King Brady would have dropped him.

Silence and fog!

Such was the situation now.

For fully twenty minutes they remained thus, and the old detective was just about to order a move on to the India Basin when voices were heard at no great distance, speaking in some foreign tongue.

"At last!" breathed Old King Brady. "I told you there would be something doing to-night, boss. Is that Chinese they are talking, Harry?"

"Sounds so."

"Sure it is," added the kicker.

"I'll wake up Alice, then," said the old detective. "This is her job."

We have not mentioned a woman who, wrapped in a heavy shawl, sat half reclining at Old King Brady's feet with her head resting on a corner of the stern seat.

This was the noted female detective, Alice Montgomery, who is a full partner in the Brady Bureau.

The daughter of a missionary, born and brought up in China, Alice, besides several other foreign languages, such as German, French and Italian, both speaks and reads Chinese.

Of course, such an accomplishment was likely to prove invaluable in a situation like this.

Old King Brady now aroused his female partner and explained.

But by this time the voices had ceased.

"Must be that they are in a sailboat," observed the kicker, half aloud.

"Will you kindly keep quiet," breathed the old detective. "This mist is as good as a telephone. I want to do business to-night if I can."

After a moment the voices in the mist were heard again.

Alice listened attentively.

"Chinese?" whispered Harry.

"Yes; hush."

The voices ceased.

Chinese never hold continuous conversation like other people.

They say what they have to say and let it go at that.

This time the voices seemed to come from a greater distance.

"What are they talking about?" the old detective asked.

"They are trying to find the Islais Channel," whispered Alice. "They think they have missed their bearings."

"Therein they are quite mistaken. The Islais Channel is right here. Didn't catch the name of any street or warehouse?"

"No."

"Or person?"

"The name Volckman was mentioned."

"Good! It may prove a valuable clew. Let us wait and listen. To attempt to overhaul them in the open bay would be useless, but once they enter the channel, we have them bottled up."

"I wonder what sort of a craft they are in?" queried Harry.

"It can't be either a rowboat or a launch," replied the old detective, "and it is hard to see how they can get around with a sailboat on a night like this, yet that must be what it is."

"There is a breeze springing up now," observed the kicker.

He had scarcely spoken when the voices were heard close to them.

Evidently the ebb tide was taking the smugglers, if such they were, their way.

They were now speaking loud and rapidly.

"Draw your revolvers, boys, and be ready," breathed Old King Brady. "We are liable to be discovered at any moment."

Alice sat listening.

"They are the smugglers, all right," she presently whispered.

"Sure?" asked Old King Brady.

"Yes. They say——"

"Never mind, Alice, unless it is something important."

Still the voices continued.

The smugglers appeared to be passing the launch in the direction of the channel.

"Listen!" whispered Alice, as they presently ceased. "This is important. One said: 'We must hurry if we expect to save the princess. She can't stand it much longer.'"

"What can that mean?"

"The name of their boat, perhaps."

"Do you think so?"

"Frankly, I don't. It seemed to me as if they were speaking of a person."

"Then they must have a woman with them. Perhaps some Chinese woman they are smuggling in."

Suddenly a loud voice exclaimed in English: "Here's your channel now, you Chinks!"

"Allee light! Allee light! Hully up now," came the reply.

The breeze had increased. The fog was lifting a little. Certain sounds were heard that indicated a sailboat going about.

"Shall I start up?" asked Harry.

"Not yet," was the reply. "Let them get well into the channel, then we will close in on them."

The voices died away; the time to move had come.

"Now," said Old King Brady. Immediately the "chug-chug" of the motor made itself heard.

"Bear right down upon them," ordered the old detective; "a little brisk action will put us on the right side of this outfit, I hope. Alice, you get down in the boat."

Alice, brave girl that she is, protested that she was willing to take her chances with the rest, but Old King Brady sternly repeating the order, it was obeyed.

A few moments of anxious suspense and a large sailboat loomed up out of the mist right ahead of them.

Instantly Old King Brady turned a powerful electric flashlight upon it.

In the boat were several boxes and bales. One box seemed particularly large.

If this was filled with opium, Old King Brady knew that it must be very valuable.

There were three Chinamen in the boat and one white man.

"Lower your sail and surrender!" thundered Old King Brady.

The white man appeared about to obey, but one of the Chinamen interfered.

The other two immediately discharged their revolvers at the launch.

The shots flew harmlessly past them, but it made the old detective vexed to think that he had not been the first to open fire, which he and the others by his command now instantly did.

Whether any one was hit or not it was impossible to tell, but all four men at once sprang overboard and, abandoning their boat, struck out for the south bulkhead of the channel, which was no great distance away.

"We win!" cried the old detective. "No more firing, boys. I had just as soon they would escape."

They pushed on to the abandoned boat.

The mist closed in on them and the swimmers were lost to view.

Making fast to the boat, the kicker sprang aboard and lowered the sail.

"A good haul, Mr. Brady," he exclaimed. "There are thousands of pounds of hop here, but what do you suppose is in this big box?"

"That remains for us to discover," replied Old King Brady. "Is it heavy?"

"Very," replied the kicker, weighting the box.

"Never mind now. Make fast and we will pull around to the Indian Basin. I shall touch nothing until we are at the Government stores."

The kicker obeyed, and was just about to step back into the launch, when Old King Brady, ordering him to remain where he was, he sat down on the big tin box.

Instantly he jumped up again, exclaiming:

"Good heavens! There is some one alive in this box!"

"Ah! The princess!" cried Alice.

"What did you hear?" demanded Old King Brady.

"Some one spoke. There it goes again! It's a Chinaman."

"Or a woman! Alice, do you think you can get aboard the sailboat without tumbling into the bay?"

"Why, certainly," replied Alice, and she stepped aboard the sailboat with the kicker's aid.

"Is any one in the box?" she called.

"Yes. Help! Save me! I am dying in here!" came the answer in Chinese.

Alice instantly repeated the words.

"We must make a landing right here on the bulkhead in front of these warehouses," declared Old King Brady, and he gave Harry orders accordingly.

Loaded down as the sailboat was, it would have been both difficult and dangerous to attempt to open the bulky box on board.

Indeed, in order to get at it properly, a good portion of the contents of the boat would have to be removed in any case.

"Ask her who she is and how she came to be there, Alice," the old detective called; adding:

"I am assuming that it is a woman."

"Yes, it's a woman," replied Alice, and she put the question.

"She says she is the Princess Skeep Hup," Alice called.

"Ask her how she came to be in the box."

But when Alice put the question there came no reply.

"I'm afraid she has fainted!" said Alice, "or, indeed, she may be dead."

"A mystery!" cried Harry. "The mystery that came out of the mist."

CHAPTER II.

ALICE AND THE CHINESE PRINCESS.

To make a quick opening of the box containing the Chinese Princess was quite impossible.

Besides the difficulties already explained, there were others.

The box was not nailed.

Examination showed that it was put together with screws, and that the boards were of some hard wood.

Air-holes bored in the sides at regular intervals showed that the imprisoned princess certainly ought to have no difficulty in breathing, and made it seem that her present unconsciousness was probably nothing more than a faint.

The landing at the bulkhead had now been made.

There appeared to be no watchman here—at least no one challenged the Secret Service party.

Behind the bulkhead extended a row of storage warehouses.

The boat had been tied up opposite a break in this row formed by a street extending back towards Amador street, the first of which parallels the Islais Creek Channel on the south.

The Bradys had plenty of rope, and the work of unloading now began.

Harry got into the sailboat along with the kicker and remained there.

Old King Brady, Alice and the other two Secret Service men ascended to the bulkhead.

Such boxes and opium bales as were piled on the larger box were transferred to the launch, and a rope made fast around the box, which was then hauled up, but not without considerable difficulty, and carried in front of the first warehouse of the row, where it was placed on the board platform.

Alice now called again to the imprisoned princess, but received no answer.

"I'll be blest if I see how we are ever going to get this thing open without a screw-driver," grumbled one of the Secret Service men.

"I can supply that want," replied the old detective, who usually has a few tools concealed in some of the many pockets of that wonderful blue coat.

He hastily produced it and went to work.

The screw-driver was not only a small affair, but the blade folded into a slot in the handle.

The joint being loose, it made the tool wobbly.

Old King Brady soon discovered that he had attempted the impossible. He could not start a single screw.

"This is a bad job," he exclaimed. "We shall have to lower the box again. I greatly fear that we are up against a murder case. If the woman was alive, she would surely have revived before this."

"She said she was dying," replied Alice. "It begins to look as if she spoke the truth."

"Get back to the boat," called Harry. "We may as well run around to the India Basin warehouse. We shall be able to open the box there."

"I see no other way," replied Old King Brady, and once again he started to make fast the rope, when suddenly Harry called that he could hear the sound of oars.

"Which way?" demanded the old detective.

"Up the channel. Don't seem to be far off, either."

"Come, boys," said Old King Brady, "we'll sneak along the bulkhead and see who it is. Crouch low, now. If it is the Chinamen prowling about, we may be able to bag them. Alice, you better go aboard the launch."

"I'll stay here and watch the box," replied Alice.

The old detective and the two Secret Service men now crept along the line of the bulkhead with their revolvers drawn.

Alice quickly lost sight of them in the fog, which was now thicker than ever.

"Alice, are you all right up there?" called Harry.

"Of course," she replied. "Why not?"

"I wish you would come down."

"And abandon my imprisoned princess? I won't."

Harry and Alice are lovers, and practically engaged.

Long ago they would have been married if Alice would only consent to give up her work.

But Alice is perfectly fascinated with the life of a detective, so the marriage day is forever being postponed, for Harry insists that Alice shall give up the business before becoming his wife.

But even under their present relations he sometimes tries to force her to yield to his ideas more than she cares for, although he has long ago learned that she is a difficult person to drive.

Harry knew by her tone now that Alice had made up her mind to stay just where she was, so he let the matter drop and was sitting in the launch in silence when suddenly a shot rang out.

It was followed by another, and others still.

Then Old King Brady shouted something in the distance, but Harry could not make out what he said.

"Alice!" he called, "can you hear what the governor is saying?"

There was no answer.

"She don't seem to hear you," observed the kicker.

"Alice!" shouted Harry again.

Still no answer.

"Can she have gone forward to see what that shooting is about?" he exclaimed. "It would be just like her. I'm going up to see."

"I hear somebody running," cried the kicker.

Just then Old King Brady was heard calling out:

"Lay for them, Harry! Chinks in a boat! Coming your way!"

Young King Brady listened, catching the sound of oars.

But it was only for a minute.

"They have either stopped or muffled their oars!" he said when he heard Old King Brady right above him exclaim:

"Good heavens! What's this?"

"Anything the matter with Alice?" cried Harry, and he went up the standing ladder flying.

Old King Brady was peering about in the fog.

The two Secret Service men were just coming up.

"What is it?" cried Harry. "Where's Alice? I have called her several times, but she don't answer."

"Why, I left her right here, and that box with her; both seem to have vanished," Old King Brady answered in a tone which fully betrayed his anxiety.

But it was easy to mistake the exact position in the fog.

A moment's search revealed the puzzling fact that nowhere on the bulkhead Alice and the heavy box containing the imprisoned princess was to be found.

The Bradys and the Secret Service men pushed about everywhere.

One of the first things they did was to turn the corner of the end warehouse and look there along the street.

"She has been captured and carried off. She must have gone this way," Harry exclaimed.

"Or into one of the warehouses," said Old King Brady.

"I'll get up the street. You get along by the warehouses," cried Harry, and he started away on the run.

It was ten minutes before he returned.

"Learned anything?" demanded Old King Brady, anxiously.

"Nothing. I went two blocks. Didn't see a soul; no need to ask you if you had better luck, I suppose?"

"I had none at all. I have tried the different doors, but I can't find any that is open now, whatever the case may have been a few minutes ago."

And such are the circumstances of the most mysterious disappearance Alice has ever made, and she has made many, for, of course, troubles form a part of the life of a detective.

Poor Harry was in despair. Old King Brady exceedingly anxious and also vexed with himself to think that he had not insisted upon Alice going aboard the boat.

"And you heard no noise of any kind?" he asked for the third time.

"Not a sound," replied Harry. "I was sitting quiet in the boat, too."

"When was the last you heard her speak?"

"Just before the firing began. Was it you who fired?"

"We fired back at three Chinamen who fired on us from a boat."

"Sailboat—rowboat?"

"Rowboat. Didn't you hear the sound of oars?"

"Yes, yes! I am so rattled that I hardly know what I'm saying. What on earth shall we do?"

"We have to look after our captured opium, too. You remain here, Harry, and Leggett can stop with you. I'll run the stuff around into the India Basin and make sure of it. Don't you go doing the disappearance act now."

"Same to you, governor. Oh, these Chinks! I wish we might never have another mix-up with them."

Old King Brady made no reply, but hastily descended to the launch, which towed the captured sailboat to a bonded warehouse on the India Basin, where Secret Service men were waiting to receive them.

It was daybreak before he got back to the Islais Creek Channel again.

The fog had vanished with the night, and a hot August wind was blowing the sand about after the usual San Francisco style.

Harry and the Secret Service man were standing on the bulkhead.

"Have you learned anything?" demanded Old King Brady as the launch drew near.

"Not a thing, worse luck," replied Harry. "If ever there was a mystery it is this."

"It is certainly a bad job," replied the old detective, "but such as it is we must make the best of it. Let us wait for the opening up of these warehouses. Information of some sort may come from a quarter we least suspect."

Seven o'clock came, bringing with it the men connected with the warehouses.

Among them was the dock foreman, who demanded the Bradys' business.

He seemed slightly startled when he saw the Secret Service shield.

"Who is Volckman?" demanded the old detective, abruptly.

"I am Volckman," was the reply.

"What's your position here?"

"I am dock foreman."

"Which means that you have charge of the laborers?"

"Yes."

"Who is superintendent of these stores?"

"Mr. Renshaw."

"When is he due here?"

"Eight o'clock."

"Will he remain here right along after that?"

"Yes; all day."

"I want to see Mr. Renshaw. Tell him Old King Brady was speaking to you, and that he will return in about an hour."

The Bradys went away in their launch then, going to breakfast at the Palace Hotel, where they were staying.

The first thing Old King Brady did upon their arrival at the hotel was to call up Secret Service Commissioner Narraway and tell him of their partial success.

He did not mention Alice's disappearance nor the matter of the Chinese princess, leaving these things to be communicated by word of mouth later on when, it was to be hoped, he would understand them better himself.

Breakfast over, the Bradys lost no time in keeping their appointment with Mr. Renshaw, who proved to be a civil, intelligent gentleman.

Old King Brady at once explained the whole situation.

"This certainly seems to be a serious piece of business," said Mr. Renshaw after hearing the old detective through. "I can't understand what brought these Chinamen here or how they came to use Mr. Volckman's name. Is there no possibility of Miss Montgomery being mistaken?"

"I don't think so. Her knowledge of Chinese is excellent."

"And her disappearance a serious matter for you, I realize. I can't imagine that she and this singular box can have been taken into any of our warehouses."

"You have perfect confidence in Volckman?"

"Always have had. Would you like to question him? I will send for him if you wish."

"No; I think not. I certainly do suspect the man of being mixed up in this business, but it will do no good to make him aware of it; still I should like to be given the opportunity to search these warehouses in every part."

"And so you shall. I will go with you myself. If there is any crooked work going on here I want to know it."

The search was made accordingly, but nothing came of it.

"Listen, Mr. Renshaw," said the old detective as they were about to part. "To-day a laboring man will apply for work at this office. He wants to be hired and given a job, which will enable him to watch Volckman."

"I understand," was the reply, "and so it shall be."

And so it was. Secret Service man Leggett, an excellent detective in his way, was the person selected, but three days passed, and at the end of that time he had nothing to report.

Nor had a word been heard of Alice.

This time her disappearance seemed to be a serious matter.

The Bradys exhausted every effort to find her, but in vain.

CHAPTER III.

LUNG & LUNG.

It is needless to dwell upon the anxiety of the Bradys over the strange vanishing of their accomplished partner.

They were otherwise very seriously inconvenienced.

The Secret Service people, satisfied with the very valuable haul the detectives had made in the line of smuggled opium, now called them off.

The Bradys are not regular Secret Service men.

They have, however, an arrangement with the Government under which their services can be claimed at any time.

The day after Alice's disappearance Old King Brady was notified by Mr. Narraway that the regular force would finish up the matter, inasmuch as he felt satisfied that the heavy loss they had sustained must have bankrupted the smugglers.

Thus under ordinary circumstances the detectives would have made haste to cross the continent and get back to their own business in New York.

As it was, they had no idea of leaving San Francisco yet awhile, of course.

Each day was devoted to the search for Alice.

Even the police took a hand in the game, much as Old King Brady dislikes to have them mix up in his affairs, but as we have said before, it was all in vain.

On the morning of the fourth day before the Bradys had yet left the hotel, a page announced that a Chinaman wished to speak to the old detective, and at the same time he handed in a business card printed in English on one side, and in Chinese on the other.

The English side read thus:

LUNG & LUNG,
General Importers,
1015 Dupont Street,
San Francisco, Cal.

Ah Lung
Gee Lung
Wun Lung.

"The whole Lung family," remarked the old detective, looking at the card. "Show the man up."

It proved to be Ah Lung who came.

He was a very much Americanized proposition, California born and college educated.

In short, both in dress, intelligence and manner he was as perfect a specimen of a Chinese gentleman as the Bradys had ever seen.

Before proceeding further we must pause to explain that while the Bradys through their influence had been able to keep the matter of Alice's disappearance and the boxed-up princess off the police blotter, and so out of the papers, it was an open secret among the force.

Consequently it was no surprise to the detectives to have this Chinaman at once allude to it.

"Mr. Brady," he began, "I want you if you will to take up an important matter for our firm, which you will find upon investigation, if you are not already aware of it, stands high in San Francisco commercial circles."

Old King Brady had heard of the firm of Lung & Lung, and said so. He doubted, however, if he cared to take up a case for them.

"It is work you are already engaged in," replied Ah Lung quickly. "It concerns the Chinese princess, Skeep Hup, who disappeared along with your Miss Montgomery the other day."

"What do you know about that?" demanded Old King Brady, "and who told you?"

"My information comes through my cousin, who is interpreter at police headquarters," replied Ah Lung. "I am prepared to tell you what I know of the Chinese princess. I suppose the information will interest you in any case."

"It certainly will," said the old detective. "Fire away, Mr. Lung. This puts altogether a different face on the matter."

"It is this way," continued Ah Lung. "I have had frequent occasion in the course of business to visit China, and, being a merchant, am allowed to come and go as I please. When in Pekin, some three years ago, I was introduced to this Chinese princess, as you have called her. She is not actually a member of the Imperial family, but the daughter of a very wealthy Mandarin. I fell in love with her, and it was finally arranged that we should marry. It was my intention to go to China after her, but the illness of my brother Wun prevented it, so she started to come to me. I supposed her to be a passenger on the Manchuria, the last steamer in from China. I was so informed by letters I received, but when I went to meet her at the wharf, I was surprised to learn that her name was not on the passenger list. Both the purser and the steward informed me that she had not been seen on the steamer.

"I immediately cabled to China, but it was only to be told that she had started for Shanghai with the intention of taking passage on the Manchuria, and that it was supposed by the family that she had done so. She traveled from Pekin in company of a man named Wang Foo, a cousin of hers. This person was to return to Pekin after seeing the princess off. He had failed to put in an appearance at the time the answer to my cablegram was sent, nor had anything been heard from him.

"You can imagine my anxiety, gentlemen. I was quite at a loss to know what to do when my cousin told me the story of your adventures with that bunch of opium smugglers. That was late last night, and not wishing to disturb you, I put off my call until this morning. If you can find my intended, you will probably also solve the mystery of the disappearance of your partner. It is up to you."

"Oh we will take up your case, of course, Mr. Lung," said Old King Brady. "Have you any idea what the motive for all this can be? Any starting clew to give us?"

"None whatever. I am just as much in the dark over the matter as you are."

"Suppose this Wang Foo wanted to marry the princess?"

"Would he box her up and treat her as he has if he loved her?" put in Harry, speaking for the first time.

"Listen," said Ah Lung, "Chinamen are not all fiends, as you may think."

"I don't think so," retorted Harry. "There are white fiends as well as yellow fiends."

"You are more liberal-minded than most of your race," replied the Chinaman, "but we will leave the white fiends out of the question. Yellow ones there certainly are in this town, and I greatly fear that it is into their hands the princess has fallen."

"Is there money coming to the man who marries her?" demanded Old King Brady, abruptly.

"That's just it. There was $20,000 of what you call dowry to go with the princess. As you are probably aware, among my people women rarely carry with them dowry. On the other hand, men who want to marry have to pay for their wives—buy them, you call it, though I never could understand where the difference comes in between paying for husbands, as is done right along in America. However, that is not the point. In this case it is different. The Princess Skeep Hup had in her own right $10,000, given to her by her mother. As our women do not take care of their own money matters, that money was to come to me. It was sent to me by mail in the form of a draft on the Bank of California, and I have it now, so that can't be the reason for kidnaping the princess, you see."

"All of which makes the mystery additionally puzzling," said Old King Brady. "But now listen, you, Mr. Lung. There is but just one thing certain in this case outside of the fact that a voice from that box told Miss Montgomery that the Princess Skeep Hup was inside, which I, knowing her knowledge of Chinese, believe."

"So do I," declared Ah Lung, emphatically. "I know Miss Montgomery by reputation, and can well believe it. But this one thing you speak of!"

"Is the fact that the matter was managed by opium smugglers. If we can catch on to who these people were we may stand some chance of success in our chase after this Chinese princess."

Ah Lung sat silent for some time.

"What you say is true," he said at last. "I could help you in that if——"

"Well, if?"

"If I could feel sure that the Secret Service people would not interfere with me."

"In other words, Lung & Lung sometimes deal in smuggled hop."

"I make no statements. What I want is a guarantee."

"Assure me upon your honor that you are not mixed up with this gang and you shall have it."

"Oh, I do, Mr. Brady; indeed I do. The worst Lung & Lung have ever done is to buy cheap opium without asking questions."

"Very well, I accept that. Do what you will. I want to help you out and to help myself out at the same time. Now then, what do you propose?"

"Listen here," said Ah Lung, lowering his voice. "You Secret Service men captured a lot of that opium the other night, but you didn't get it all by any means. There was another boat load which ran in ahead of the one you captured."

"I can well believe it. The people in that boat fired at me in the fog."

"I am told that Young King Brady is very successful in masquerading as a Chinaman."

"Who told you that?" demanded Harry.

"My cousin at Police Headquarters."

"And what about it?"

"Can you meet me to-night at eight o'clock at our store on Dupont street so disguised?"

"I could, of course. But why?"

"I must not tell, but you can guess. I have an appointment. I want you with me."

"I'll go, but there is one thing you must understand, I can't speak Chinese. I always play the dummy when I disguise that way."

"That will be all right. I was born in San Francisco, and, as it happens, brought up in a part of the city where I associated only with English-speaking children. My own knowledge of the Chinese language is very poor. I never speak it unless I am obliged to. I won't speak it in this interview. You can and shall be a witness to all that is said. I know you play the dummy when in Chinese disguise. I want you to play it to-night."

"Settled then," said Harry, "I will be on hand."

There was some further talk, but as it developed nothing, it is not worth recording.

Soon after Ah Lung left.

"A lucky thing this matter came up, governor," observed Harry.

"It promises well," replied the old detective. "That's about all we can say for it, but we must work ahead just as though it had not come up."

It was a busy day the Bradys put in, but nothing came of it.

Towards five o'clock Harry turned up at the hotel, where he found a note from Old King Brady, reading:

"Dear Harry: I have just had a call over the 'phone from Leggett. He wants to see me at the Harper House, on Mission street, and that's where I am going now. Don't know what for, but I suppose it relates to Volckman. Don't wait for me. Be very careful of yourself to-night.

"O. K. B."

Was the caution needed?

It certainly was.

For a detective to mix up with Chinese opium smugglers in Chinatown, San Francisco, is always dangerous.

But Young King Brady felt confidence in Ah Lung.

Not only had he taken a liking to the man, personally, but having gone to the trouble to look him up in a business way, he found that the standing of the firm in white circles was very high.

"Half a million capital invested," one person stated.

"Good for anything they want to buy here," another firm declared.

"Squarest Chinese house in San Francisco," said another, and so on.

So Harry made his Chinese disguise, and at eight o'clock turned up at the handsome new store on Dupont street, near Sacramento, where the Lung Brothers held forth.

Inquiring for Ah Lung, he came up against his brother Wun, who was quite a different proposition, being in native dress and speaking broken English.

"Ah, him go joss house," he said. "Say, you comee longer me. Meetee him dlere."

Harry assented, and to the new Jackson street joss house, the most important Chinese temple of America, they went.

The big hall contained many Chinamen, most of them standing around with their hats on talking business, for this joss house has a good deal of the character of a Chinese commercial exchange.

But there were worshipers there before the idols, if they can be so called.

Really, it bears no resemblance to Christian worship.

When a Chinaman gets down on his knees before the idols and throws joss sticks out of a box just as a gambler would throw dice, he is consulting the spirits of his ancestors as to what course to take in business, love or pleasure. Just this and nothing more.

There were about twenty Chinamen thus engaged when Harry entered the Jackson street joss house, and among them he spied Ah Lung throwing the sticks for all he was worth.

"Dlere he be. We waitee," said Wun Lung. "Him findee out what go to happen to-night."

So Harry stood waiting while the joss stick throwing went merrily on.

CHAPTER IV.

ALICE PASSES THROUGH THE DOOR OF DEATH.

What then had happened to Alice?

What did happen never could have happened but for the fog, which it will be remembered blew in more thickly just about the time she disappeared.

Alice stood watching the box, never thinking of danger, when suddenly a cloth of some sort was thrown over her head from behind, and by a strong hand gathered in about her throat.

No doubt she had been closely watched previous to this by sharp eyes peering out of the mist.

The thing was done so suddenly that Alice was taken wholly unawares, and when a voice said in Chinese: "There are two revolvers covering you, Miss Montgomery; utter a sound and you will be instantly shot," all she could do was to submit, especially as the voice added: "And Young King Brady as well."

"No shooting," she said. "I yield."

Her voice was sadly muffled under the big piece of burlap which had been thrown over her head.

Her arm was now clutched and she was drawn forward, the hand still retaining its grip on her throat.

She was so startled and mixed up that she could not tell in which direction she was being led, but they did not take her far.

Suddenly the clutch at her throat was released.

"Step up," said the voice. "I am about to assist you into an auto. Be careful. There! All right now. Sit down and behave yourself and you will slip through this trial easy enough."

Was it a Chinaman who was speaking?

Certainly the voice was that of an Oriental of some sort, but to Alice it sounded more like the voice of an educated Japanese, although the language was that of the other race.

"May I have my head free now?" she asked. "I am stifling."

"Just a moment," was the reply. "They are bringing the box. When we start you shall be relieved."

She heard them come; the box was lifted into the car, which seemed to be a long, three-seated affair, as near as Alice could judge.

Then the start was made, and so noiselessly was it all managed that there had scarce been a sound.

Immediately the burlap was withdrawn from Alice's head.

The car proved to be a closed one. By the light of its lamps Alice was able to get an uncertain view of her companion.

She shuddered as she recognized him.

"So it is you, Dr. Garshaski!" she breathed.

"Yes, Miss Montgomery, it is I," replied the man, speaking now in English. "I trust you will pardon this step on my part. It all came about by accident. I saw you standing there and I could not resist the temptation to at once seize upon the opportunity, and the woman of all others whom I devotedly love."

Alice's heart sank.

There were three other men in the car.

The chauffeur was white, but the two seated on the box, which was crowded in front of the middle seat, were Chinese in American dress.

They sat on the seat with their feet on the box, silent and stolid looking.

Certainly there was nothing to be hoped for from an appeal to them.

Did Alice know this Dr. Garshaski?

She did, indeed.

Harry's anxiety would have been more intense even than it was could he have suspected the truth.

But there was no possible reason why he should suspect it. He believed this man to be in China or Japan.

The story is this:

About two years before it became necessary in a certain case to engage a detective who could speak both Chinese and Japanese.

Such a combination is much rarer than might be supposed.

Old King Brady applied to the Secret Service people, for it was on their work that the man was needed.

They had such a person in stock, it seemed, and Dr. Garshaski, born of a Japanese father and a Chinese mother in the city of Shanghai, was sent to New York to co-operate with the Brady Bureau.

They won out in the case all right, but they got more than they bargained for in this man, who really was a doctor and a graduate of a New England medical college.

From the very outset he began making love to Alice, and in the most extravagant fashion.

After the case was over he threw up his position as a Secret Service detective and remained in New York, pestering Alice beyond endurance.

Harry threw him out of the office at an early stage of the game.

He then wrote letters, threatening Harry's life.

Alice was deluged with silly love epistles; he dogged her in the streets and waylaid her when she came and went from her rooms on Waverly Place.

In short, he made himself such a nuisance that Old King Brady had him arrested and bound over to keep the peace.

His next and last move was to make a pretended attempt at suicide on Alice's door-step.

Again he was arrested and got the usual penalty.

Then he wrote a whining letter to Old King Brady, asking help to get out, and promising to go to Shanghai.

Alice interceded. He was released.

The Bradys thought they had good reason for believing that he had kept his word.

But if he went he must have come back again, for here he was, sitting beside Alice in the automobile.

No wonder her heart failed her, but to the doctor's latest declaration of love she calmly replied:

"Once you told me you were the son of a Japanese gentleman, doctor. Don't forget it now."

"Never, Alice! Never! I intend that you shall marry me. A man could not act otherwise than as a gentleman towards a woman whom he hopes to make his wife."

"Well spoken," said Alice, with a sigh. "Do these men understand English?" she added, trying to speak in her ordinary tone.

"Not a word."

"And the chauffeur?"

"Is a French-Canadian; but he can't hear. Did Old King Brady get that boat load of opium?"

"Yes. Are you interested in it?"

"I am."

"Did you go to China?"

"Certainly; I have made two trips to China since I last saw you."

"What is it about this unfortunate Chinese woman in the box?"

"That's a private matter. Were you my wife, as you soon will be, you should know. As it is, I can't tell you—at least not yet."

"I am afraid she is dead, doctor."

"Not the least danger, Alice."

She did not correct this familiar form of speech.

"Were you speaking to her in Chinese?" he asked.

"Yes."

"What did she tell you?"

"Nothing except that she was the Princess Skeep Hup."

"That is so."

"Why have you captured her?"

"It is not my business. It was done for another."

"And you are taking her to Chinatown?"

"Yes; that is where we are going."

"Speak to her, or let those men speak. I am sure she is in trouble. After the first she would not answer me."

"She is drugged. I suppose for the moment she came out from under the influence. I am surprised that she did."

"But, doctor, I heard some one say before we captured the boat that if they didn't hurry up the princess would die. What about that?"

"The man didn't know what he was talking about. I am an expert chemist. It is no morphine sleep the woman is in. I have used a Chinese drug of which chemists in this country know nothing. I should hate to have to use it on you."

"Don't you dare try it, doctor."

"Listen. We have to leave this auto soon. I warn you, Alice, not to attempt to make me trouble. Just so sure as you do, you will get your dose."

Alice was silent.

She preferred Dr. Garshaski's threats to his love-making. It was a relief to find that he was not disposed to try the latter now.

They were rapidly approaching Chinatown.

At last they hit Dupont street and ran on to Washington, where they turned up the hill, stopping in front of China alley.

The Chinamen jumped out and stood for a moment.

"All right, the coast is clear, doctor," one said in Chinese.

"Take the box out and be quick," replied the doctor.

This was done.

Staggering under their load, the two Chinamen disappeared down the alley.

"Now, Alice!" said the doctor, when presently they returned.

"Dr. Garshaski, be sensible and let me go about my business," said Alice, in her calmest fashion, for she realized that it would be more than useless to display excitement now.

"No," replied the doctor. "No, it cannot be. I have begun, and I am going to see the thing through. That's all there is about it."

He got out and extended his hand to Alice, who accepted it and alighted.

The two Chinks closed in behind her.

In a few seconds they had vanished down China alley, where there was no hope of rescue, for although the alley is not the dark, mysterious affair it used to be before the great fire, it still retains much of its old character, and is a mighty dangerous place at night.

They did not have far to go; the doctor retained his hold on Alice's arm.

She had heard the click of cocking revolvers behind her, so knew what to expect.

Suddenly the doctor turned in at a dark doorway and hurried Alice up an equally dark flight of stairs.

This brought them to a long hall, which appeared to run through to Dupont street.

Much of this property is now owned by American-born Chinese.

The new structures erected on it were built to suit themselves.

Just how true it it we cannot tell, but there are those who claim that the underground dens of Chinatown are not wiped out by any means; even that some of them have been reconstructed on more extensive lines.

The doctor halted before a door at what seemed about midway in the long hall and proceeded to unlock it with a key.

"In with you, Alice," he said, and he pushed her gently into what seemed to be a small elevator.

Following her, the Chinaman crowded in behind her.

The doctor clutched the wire rope, and the machine started to descend.

"You see I'm letting you into all our secrets, Alice," he said with a grin. "I haven't required you to blindfold."

If this was an attempt to start a flirtation it failed, for Alice made no reply.

This elevator descended three stories; they had ascended but one flight of stairs, consequently they must be under ground, Alice reasoned.

It stopped, and the doctor opened a door.

Here there was a long passage little resembling the ugly secret passages of old Chinatown.

This one was plastered, and from the walls hung Chinese mottoes.

There were lights at intervals, and many doors opening off from it.

Alice saw that it must extend through from China alley to Dupont street.

The doors all had Chinese characters on them.

These were not numbers.

Each carried with it the word "door"; each was modified in some way.

Thus there was the "door of hope," the "door of knowledge," the "door of wisdom," and so on.

Alice, who could read the characters, found herself quite at a loss to imagine why they should be thus applied.

At last they came to one bearing a character which signified the "door of death."

Here the doctor paused.

Determined not to give him the satisfaction of displaying any curiosity, Alice stood waiting for the doctor to speak.

He pointed to the character and said in English:

"I suppose you haven't forgotten how to read your Chinese?"

"No; I haven't forgotten."

"You see what that says?"

"Yes; I see."

"It may or may not apply to you, Alice."

"I suppose you are about to add, 'all depends upon yourself.'"

"Exactly."

"Dr. Garshaski, I tried to treat you well. While another would have left you in prison, I induced Old King Brady to get you out. I must say I don't think you are treating me well to-night."

"Better than you think for. Another situated as I was when I suddenly met you would surely have shot your lover, Young King Brady. I spared his life."

"I thank you for that."

"Waste no time in thanking me. Look at the character on the door directly behind us. What does it say?"

"The door of love."

"Well, Alice, which door shall it be? It is for you to decide."

"Nonsense, doctor. Don't be ridiculous. I am in your power. Get ahead and let us end all this."

"Will you marry me, Alice? I will make you a good husband. What is more, I am in a good paying business now. If my schemes succeed I am in a fair way to become rich."

"No, I won't. That's final."

"Once again I ask you, Alice."

"And once again I refuse!" cried Alice, stamping her foot, for she was beginning to lose patience at last.

The two Chinamen stood grinning at each other.

If they did not understand English they at least must have had a pretty good idea of what was going on.

They seemed to be highly amused.

"And now for the third time I ask you," continued the doctor, "will you marry me?"

"Never!" cried Alice. "Not if you were the last man on earth!"

"Then that settles it, Alice Montgomery!" he said, sternly. "The door you enter shall be the door of death!"

He unlocked it and threw it open.

Inside Alice could see nothing. It appeared to be just across the passage.

But before she had time to think twice about it the two Chinamen gave her a sudden push.

The doctor jumped aside and poor Alice went flying through the door of death.

CHAPTER V.

OLD KING BRADY GETS DOWN TO BUSINESS.

Harper's Hotel, on Mission street, both before and since the fire was always a great resort for Secret Service men.

In fact, the proprietor himself was formerly one.

As it happened, this was one of the few buildings in that part of the city which escaped the fire, so the public house at which Old King Brady turned up late that afternoon was the same old Harper's Hotel.

Detective Leggett, disguised as a dock laborer, sat in the cafe playing dominoes with another Secret Service man.

The minute he saw Old King Brady, without waiting to finish the game, he pushed the dominoes aside and made a sign for the old detective to follow, then leading him upstairs.

"I'm living here just now," he said. "I don't know as you know it."

"No; I didn't know," was the reply. "Have you caught on to anything?"

"I think so. Volckman's a sly one, but I have had a good chance to watch him. He quit an hour earlier than usual to-night. So did I, and I trailed him to China alley and saw him go into a crib there."

"Good for you! What kind of a crib?"

"Oh, there is supposed to be about everything that is crooked going on there. Mock Ting's restaurant is on the ground floor of the Dupont street side. There's a fan-tan joint on the third floor. I understand there are underground rooms. I don't actually know any of them to be opium joints, but I have no doubt that some of them are."

"It's enough that you have tracked Volckman there. What do you propose?"

"It's up to you, Mr. Brady. I have no pull in Chinatown. That is what we want."

"It surely is. I used to have a lot, but times have changed. I hardly know who to apply to now. I hate to ring in a wardman."

"I wouldn't," said Leggett, with a shrug of his shoulders. "I don't believe it would pay. I'm ready to bust ahead with you and take our chances."

"I have little faith in that, either. Volckman doesn't look like a man who used opium. He must have had special business to call him there. But let us get down there, anyway."

This conversation took place in Leggett's room upstairs.

"Better drop this rig, hadn't I?" he asked.

"I think so."

"If we only had some one who could speak Chinese."

"Get ready," said the old detective, impatiently. "We'll go ahead and do the best we can."

It was about six o'clock when they reached the House of the Seven Delights.

"We'll take supper in the restaurant as a starter," said Old King Brady. "It is not impossible that I may strike somebody I know."

They entered to find the place reasonably full.

The old detective picked out a central table, from which they could see in all directions.

Supper was ordered, and they had almost finished when Old King Brady suddenly said:

"There's a man I know. Just sitting at the third table on the left as you come in from the door."

Leggett looked.

"A Jap, isn't he?"

"Half Japanese and half Chinese. Don't you know him?"

"No."

"You will be surprised, then, when I tell you that he was once a Secret Service man."

"Is that so? He never operated in San Francisco in my time, then. What's his name?"

"Dr. Garshaski."

"Is he really a doctor?"

"Yes. I certainly ought to know him. He made me trouble enough. I don't like this. I thought the man was in China."

An inkling of the truth dawned upon Old King Brady.

The sight of Dr. Garshaski had stirred him more than he would have cared to own.

"If Alice fell into the clutches of that fellow, then heaven help her!" he thought.

He hardly knew whether he ought to show himself to the doctor or attempt to trail him.

But the matter promptly settled itself.

Dr. Garshaski saw him.

Old King Brady, who was watching him closely, did not fail to note the start he gave.

He immediately got up, and the old detective thought it was with the intention of leaving the restaurant, but instead of that he came forward to their table and, putting out both hands, exclaimed:

"Mr. Brady! I am rejoiced! My best friend! My savior, I may say! Well, well!"

Old King Brady shook hands and invited the doctor to sit down, introducing Leggett as a Secret Service man.

"Do you mind if I take my supper at this table?" asked the doctor.

"Not at all," was the reply.

Having come up with the man, it seemed to the old detective that he might as well listen to anything he had to say.

"I thought you were going to China, doctor?" he began.

"Did go," replied the doctor. "I have been across twice since I saw you. How is Young King Brady?"

"Well."

"In San Francisco?"

"I don't know where he is just now. He is working for a man on a private matter. It is some little time since I heard from him."

"And—I almost hesitate to ask for reasons such as you—you know, Mr. Brady. How is that loveliest of her sex, Miss Montgomery?"

Old King Brady's eyes were right upon him as he quietly answered:

"I cannot tell you, doctor."

"Cannot tell! Has the partnership been dissolved, then?"

"Temporarily, yes."

"You speak strangely, Mr. Brady. I hope and trust that nothing has gone wrong in that direction. You need not fear to trust me. I have quite recovered from my mad folly, I assure you."

"Something has gone very wrong, doctor. It is now several days since Miss Montgomery disappeared right here in San Francisco."

The doctor threw up his hands dramatically.

"Don't tell me that!" he cried. "Under what circumstances?"

"The circumstances belong to Secret Service business. I cannot state them. It may be, however, that she has fallen into the hands of your people."

"Now, don't call the Chinese my people. I am the son of a Japanese gentleman, as you well know. You touch me deeply. If there is anything I can do to help, command me."

"You are very kind. And your address?"

The doctor produced a card.

The address it bore was a number on Stockton street.

"I have a room in that house just at present," he said.

Leggett sat quiet through all this.

Still engaging the doctor in conversation, the old detective trod on his toe.

The signal was returned.

Old King Brady felt that he had been understood, when the Secret Service man suddenly arose and said:

"Will you excuse me, Mr. Brady? I have to keep that appointment with Holes."

"Go on," said Old King Brady. "You are a bit late for it now."

He left himself as soon as the doctor's supper was served.

Going around on to China alley, he found Leggett somewhat disguised watching the rear entrance to the house of the Seven Delights.

"That man must be shadowed," he said. "It is useless for me to undertake it other than in a general way. He has worked for me and knows my methods of disguising. He is as keen as a razor. Some time ago he fell madly in love with Miss Montgomery, and we had all kinds of trouble with him. I am afraid he is at the bottom of her disappearance."

"I'm on the job. Where shall I lay for him? Here or in front?"

"In front."

"Will I do as I am?"

"It's the best you can do at short notice. Listen. You saw him give me his card. I am going to his room on Stockton street. If I can get in I shall not hesitate to give it a good overhauling. I must be quick. Do the best you can for me, Leggett."

The Secret Service man gave his promise and Old King Brady hurried away.

The Stockton street house proved to be a four-story brick tenement filled with Japanese.

There was a bell-board with names on it, but that of Dr. Garshaski did not appear.

Old King Brady had just finished studying the names when a Jap came out through the open door.

The old detective showed the doctor's card.

"Know him?" he asked.

But the man appeared to be short on English.

"No know," he said. Then pointing inside he made the old detective understand that he was to inquire at the last door on the right, which he did.

This proved to be the janitor, whose English was quite understandable.

"Top floor," he said. "He only hire room of 'nother man. Las' door left."

Old King Brady traveled up the stairs.

He felt that he was running every risk of discovery by the doctor.

Encountering no one in the upper hall, he knocked lightly on the door.

There was no answer.

Producing his skeleton keys, he easily mastered the lock.

It was only a bedroom. There was but little furniture.

On the top of a chiffonier was Alice's picture in an elaborate gilt frame, which did not bear out the doctor's assurance that he had got over being love-sick.

Without losing an instant the old detective opened the drawers of this chiffonier and began disturbing things as little as possible.

It was not until the lower drawer was reached that he found anything to interest him.

The first was a bunch of three letters fastened by a rubber band.

There were other letters, some in Japanese and some in Chinese.

These, however, were in English, and when Old King Brady caught the signature, "R. Volckman," he knew that he had made a discovery.

This letter was brief enough. It read:

"Dear Sir: Yours receipted. I shall be ready for you at 2 thirty. All serene. R. Volckman."

"This settles it," muttered the old detective. "Volckman has been standing in with these opium smugglers all right, and the doctor is in the deal. I shall arrest the man on sight."

He ran over the other letters.

All related to the landing of the smuggled opium.

In one Volckman agreed to furnish boats to the Chinese smugglers, with men to take charge of them.

The other was a demand to know when and where he could meet Dr. Garshaski.

There was no mention of the Chinese princess nor of Alice.

Old King Brady pocketed the letters and proceeded to examine a trunk, which he opened with a skeleton key.

Here he found other letters and photographs of several Chinese and Japanese women.

All the letters appeared to be in these languages, as the old detective hastily ran over them.

There was one photograph of a very peculiar looking young woman who was not altogether unhandsome.

She was dressed in a fancy Mexican costume.

To the old detective she looked as if she might be of mixed stock, Mexican and Chinese, or Mexican and Japanese.

But as none of these things interested the old detective, he returned them to the trunk and closed it.

Scarce had he done so when there came a knock on the door, which had not been locked.

Of course, this could not be the doctor.

Thinking that it might lead to some further discovery, Old King Brady slipped into a closet and remained on the watch through the crack of the door.

Again came the knocking, a little more insistent, and then the door opened and a young woman very stylishly dressed walked into the room.

A glance was sufficient to identify her as the original of the photograph the old detective had just been looking at.

She stood peering about as if expecting Dr. Garshaski to jump out at her from the closet or under the bed.

Then suddenly she made a rush for the chiffonier, seized the gilt frame, pulled Alice's picture out of it, spit on it, tore it to pieces, and stamped it under her feet, her eyes blazing with jealous rage and hate.

It was easy now to see that the girl—she was little more—was a Mexican-Chinese half-breed.

"Ah ha, my lady!" thought Old King Brady, "I see how the case stands! It's to be hoped that you speak English. You may prove a very valuable ally. I'm glad now that I came here."

He stepped out into full view.

The young woman gave a scream and made a bolt for the door.

"Stay, daughter! A word with you," the old detective said.

CHAPTER VI.

HEARD IN THE HOUSE OF THE SEVEN DELIGHTS.

Harry did not have long to wait before Ah Lung got up and came to him.

His brother Wun, making a few remarks in Chinese, excused himself and left.

"You will pardon me, Mr. Brady, for making it necessary for you to follow me here," said the merchant. "I wanted to find out whether the gods were propitious to our undertaking, as you would say. I have been so busy to-day that I got no chance until now."

"And the result?" asked Harry.

"We shall win out in the end, but not without trouble."

"Yon believe in your joss sticks, I see, Mr. Lung?"

"Firmly; and why should I not? For untold ages my people have employed them to predict the future."

"Does it always come out true as they say?"

"By no means. Just about as often as what is told us by people in this world comes true."

"Of what use to consult them then?"

"Listen! If you have a friend upon whom you rely, who you have known for years, and who has never lied to you, then you unhesitatingly believe him, do you not?"

"Most assuredly."

"It is precisely the same with me. I believe that the movement of the joss sticks in my case is controlled by the spirit of my dead father. He never lied to me living. Why should he do so now that he has dropped the body and is living in the world of spirits?"

"It is too deep for me. It would seem, though, that you must be a spiritualist."

Ah Lung shrugged his shoulders.

"I know very little about your American spiritualists," he replied, "but we will not continue the subject. I am ready."

"Where do we go?"

"We will talk of that outside."

"Am I made up to suit you?"

"Yes, yes. As I look at you I fail to see how any one could see through your disguise."

They passed out of the joss house and walked down Jackson street hill.

"One thing," said Harry. "You must pretend to talk to me with your fingers deaf and dumb fashion when we come into the presence of others."

"Oh, I can actually do it," replied Wun Lung. "I have a sister who is deaf and dumb. We were able to put her through the deaf and dumb school. She knows only English. I am the only one who can talk to her. But I suppose you cannot do the deaf and dumb finger speech?"

"Indeed I can," replied Harry, with his fingers.

"Then let us begin now," responded Ah Lung in the same fashion, "for we are liable to be seen by some one whom we may meet in the House of the Seven Delights."

"And what may that be?"

"A sort of club. A secret society. But I must say no more. You promised not to press me, you know."

"All right. I am in your hands, but I just want to ask have you spoken of the princess to any of the members of this club?"

"Why yes, to one or two whom I can trust."

Harry shook his head.

"I am afraid you are the author of your own troubles, then, Mr. Lung," he said.

"I shouldn't wonder. It is a matter I should not have spoken about to any one. I see it now."

They turned up China alley at last, entering the long building into which Alice had been taken on the night of her capture.

Harry now traveled over the same ground.

They ascended one flight, entered that elevator, and Ah Lung let them down to the long corridor under ground.

Harry wondered at the many doors.

"What new organization am I up against?" he asked himself.

But of Ah Lung he asked no questions, feeling that he was in the man's hands for better or for worse.

"Now I don't know whether anything is going to come out of this or not," Lung said with his fingers. "I am expecting to meet a certain party on business. I shall bring the conversation around to the princess. The man is supposed to be my friend. If he has betrayed me I want to know it. At all events, it is my only chance of giving you a clew on which to start your search."

"Right," said Harry. "Lead on."

Lung stopped before a door, on which he knocked three times.

It was immediately opened by a young Chinaman in a white native dress.

The room was quite a large one, well fitted up with comfortable American furniture.

It looked what it actually was, a club-room. Several Chinamen, mostly in American dress, were sitting or standing in groups.

One came forward looking questioningly at Harry.

Lung said something, apparently vouching for him as a friend, and the man walked away.

Nobody else spoke to them.

Going up to a handsome buffet, Lung poured out tea for himself and Harry, helping him also to sweetmeats and Chinese cakes.

"Is this just a business club?" asked Young King Brady.

"Just that and nothing else," was the reply; "there are several clubs meeting down here. While the members are all part of one grand organization, these clubs are organized for different purposes, and a man may belong to one without belonging to another or knowing anything about the others. That's the way we work it."

"Is your man here?"

"Not yet. He is expected, however. I must hurry and get you placed."

They now left the club-room, Ah Lung, opening the next door beyond with a latch-key.

This ushered them into a narrow corridor lighted by colored red lanterns.

From it opened several small alcoves before which fancy-colored curtains hung.

Harry saw that they were intended for opium smokers, and that each would hold two persons. They were provided with soft couches instead of the usual Chinese wooden bunks.

An attendant in white came forward. Ah Lung spoke to him in Chinese and gave him money.

"I have engaged two of these rooms," he said. "You must take one now and pretend to smoke and go to sleep. Watch and listen for me, for I shall come into the next alcove with my man. I never smoke opium myself, but he does, and he always prefers to talk business over a pipe."

And this programme was carried out.

Ah Lung left Harry, who lost no time in pretending to go to sleep. The curtain was drawn before the alcove.

Harry waited an hour and grew so drowsy that at last he actually did drop off, to be suddenly awakened by hearing somebody give a loud cough. As he opened his eyes he saw a hand draw his curtain shut.

He was on the alert instantly, for he could hear two men entering the next alcove.

"And now for business," one said. Harry recognized the voice of Ah Lung.

"Wait till I get my pipe going," replied the second person.

The voice and accent were peculiar.

It seemed to Young King Brady that he recognized both.

"Surely I have heard that voice before," he said to himself. "But where?"

This was a question that as Harry lay listening he found himself unable to decide.

The pipe filling was so quickly completed and the smell which arose so different from ordinary opium that Harry concluded the man must be merely smoking some sort of opium saturated tobacco.

The talk then began.

It was precisely what Ah Lung had hinted at, a transaction in cheap opium.

The word smuggled was not used.

Ah Lung bought a thousand dollars worth, which was to be delivered next day at the store.

There was considerable haggling, the talk lasting all of twenty minutes, and all this time Young King Brady was puzzling his brains to know where he had heard that voice before, but memory refused to serve him.

As for the man's English, it was almost as good as Ah Lung's, which amounts to saying that it was nearly perfect.

Harry heard, although their voices were keyed low. It vexed him to think that Ah Lung could not have spoken the man's name, but he never did once.

Now suddenly the conversation took a different turn.

"Ah, my good friend," said Ah Lung with a sigh, "I am in deep trouble. I know you will sympathize with me when I tell you what it is."

"Of course," was the reply. "I always have sympathy for those in trouble. What is the matter now?"

"My princess."

"Ah, ha! She is ill?"

"Not that. She failed to arrive on the Manchuria."

"Is it so? Did she not sail then?"

Ah Lung told the story he had given the Bradys.

"It must be very hard for you, Lung," replied the other. "I wish I could help you. Perhaps I can."

"You? How can that be possible?"

"Listen! I heard it rumored—only rumored by men—you know who—that there was a Chinese woman of high rank who was a passenger on the Dover Castle. With her was a man who claimed to be her cousin. The man was smuggled in, Lung. I saw and talked with him. His name was Wang Foo!"

"You don't mean it!" cried Ah Lung, excitedly.

"Hush! We shall be heard."

"No, no! I tell you the man in the next bunk is deaf and dumb. Besides, he is a good friend of mine."

"But on the other side?"

"It is empty."

"Sure? Some one may have come in."

"I'll look and see."

Ah Lung did so and reported the alcove empty.

"Go on!" he said eagerly. "You are interesting me greatly. What became of this woman of high rank?"

"Ah! That I do not know, my friend, but I do know that she did not land openly. Then she must have been smuggled ashore. Probably she is concealed somewhere in Chinatown now."

"I must find out. I will employ detectives."

"Do nothing of the sort. If the woman is here, if she really is the Princess Skeep Hup, then I am the man who can get her for you. What will you pay, Ah Lung?"

"Pay! I thought you were my friend."

"I am out for the dollars, brother. Out for the dollars every time."

"What is it worth to you then to go to the trouble to make these inquiries?"

"Nothing to make inquiries, but if this Chinese woman should prove to be the Princess Skeep Hup, and I am the means of delivering her up to you, I shall expect half of that money you told me you were going to get with her, or, in other words, $5,000."

Harry heard Ah Lung give an angry exclamation, and he feared that he was going to say something which would spoil everything, but the Chinaman controlled himself.

"Why, this is almost as bad as blackmail," he said, sarcastically. "I don't mind paying a thousand dollars, but five thousand! It is nonsense!"

"It has to be or I won't work."

"Come, I'll be liberal with you. I'll make it two thousand. Go ahead and find out for me."

"Not a cent less than $5,000, Brother Lung."

"Dr. Garshaski, I believe you know something definite, that this is a deal to blackmail me."

Dr. Garshaski! Harry almost jumped off the couch.

Now he knew whose voice he had been listening to.

He wondered at himself.

How could he ever have forgotten?

"That scoundrel!" he thought. "Alice in his hands? This is terrible, but it explains her disappearance, all right."

Meanwhile the talk was going right on.

"Have it your own way, Mr. Lung," said the doctor, "but you want to decide. Do I work or don't I work? Which?"

"I will give up no more than I said. I won't be swindled."

"Very well. Then I won't do anything about your Chinese princess. Your opium will be delivered. I am going now. Good-night."

"Go," replied Lung. "I shall not forget this, doctor."

"No, I don't think you will," replied the doctor, and Harry heard him leave the room.

Instantly Ah Lung drew aside the curtain.

But Harry did not wait for him to speak.

"After him!" he whispered. "I know that fellow! He is a scoundrel! No doubt he is at the bottom of this whole business, and of the disappearance of Miss Montgomery, too."

CHAPTER VII.

IN A TORTURE CHAMBER.

Alice felt that her situation was bad enough as she passed through the "door of death" without Dr. Garshaski adding to it by clap-trap.

This she was sure he had done, for while the Chinese characters on the other doors were painted directly on the woodwork, in this case it was a piece of red paper, upon which the character had been written with a Chinese pen.

That it had been put there for her special benefit Alice did not doubt.

It was just like Dr. Garshaski, who was forever doing something dramatic in the old days.

He hurried Alice along the empty corridor and down a short flight of stairs.

Coming to a door, he let go his hold and knocked.

It was instantly opened by a very Chinese-looking Chinaman wearing a rich native dress.

The room was rather small, but well fitted up as a bed chamber, partly in Chinese and partly in American style. In the middle of the floor stood the box which was supposed to contain the Chinese princess.

"So you have come at last!" exclaimed the Chinaman in his own language. "I thought you never would."

"Patience, Wang Foo," replied the doctor. "We can't get there all in a moment."

"But the princess may die. She may be dead now. I believe it. She ought to have been released long ago."

"Patience, I tell you. I know my business. She is in no danger of death whatever."

"And the woman you were to bring to look after her. She must have an attendant. She is not to be ill treated. She is of my own blood."

"The woman is here."

"What, a white woman?"

"Yes."

"Of what use can she be?"

"I know her of old. She is an excellent nurse. None better."

"But she cannot talk to the princess."

"There you are quite mistaken. Better be careful what you say to her. She speaks Chinese as well as you do."

Wang Foo stared at Alice and asked her name.

He managed to grasp the Alice part, but the rest was quite beyond him.

"Hurry! Hurry," he cried.

"Alice," said the doctor, "I am going to resurrect the princess now. Sit down in that easy-chair and make yourself at home."

Alice silently obeyed. Thus far there seemed nothing so terrible coming out of the passage through the door of death.

The doctor asked for a screw-driver, and Wang Foo produced one, with which he made short work of opening the box.

There, apparently, in a deep sleep, lay a little doll of a Chinese woman upon blankets carefully fitted into the box.

She was in plain native dress, and her feet were not bigger than those of a good-sized doll.

This alone proved that she belonged to a good family.

The ordinary Chinese women do not compress their feet.

The doctor bent over the box and listened at her heart.

"She's all right," he said. "I'll have her out of this in no time."

He produced a leather medicine case, and, taking a tumbler from the washstand, proceeded to mix small portions of the contents of two different vials.

The result was a reddish liquid, of which he administered a few drops to the princess.

"Now, Alice," he said, "we can talk freely before this man, who is just from China and can't speak a word of English. Our love affairs can hang over a few days. Just now I am going to explain about this woman. She is the daughter of a rich Pekin Mandarin, who has sold her to an equally rich merchant here in Chinatown. They are really in love with each other, and the woman came to California of her own accord, although not in just the way she set out to do. She is also the granddaughter of a rich old Chink on her mother's side, who died in San Francisco at the time of the great fire. He left a pile of ready cash behind him, but no one knows where he hid it. That he did hide it somewhere on the night of the fire is certain. Just before his death, as I have the best of reason for believing, old Gong Schow wrote out this secret of the buried money and sent it to a man in China with instructions for him to deliver the letter containing the secret to his granddaughter on her twentieth birthday. It was done. This funny little midget alone knows where Gong Schow's wealth is buried. She has kept her secret well. She promised her lover to reveal it to him on their marriage day. Wang Foo knows all this. He is my partner in certain business transactions. He is her cousin. He started to escort her to Shanghai from her home in Pekin. There she was to sail on the Manchuria for San Francisco. But Wang Foo deceived her and took her aboard an English tramp steamer, the Dover Castle. He has delivered her to me. She must be made to give up her secret, fair Alice. That was another reason why I kidnaped you. I want you to do the detective act. Get the secret out of the princess as best you can, only get it. Make her understand that if she don't give it up she will surely die. You have followed me in all this, I hope?"

"I certainly have," replied Alice, adding: "At your old tricks, doctor. Forever plotting and scheming. Am I to be kept alone with this Chinese princess then?"

"That's what you are, and it's up to you to work my schemes out to success, for it is I and not Wang Foo who must have this hidden treasure——But she is waking; my drug has done it's work."

It was so. Inside of a few minutes the Chinese princess had fully revived.

She was little, but she made it hot for those around her.

Such a temper Alice never saw displayed in any Chinawoman.

She began by screaming, demanding to know where she was and why she was there.

She turned on Wang Foo with all the fury of a tigress, accused him of drugging her, of kidnaping her, and then began yelling to be taken to Ah Lung.

As for Dr. Garshaski, she did not appear to know him. She seemed to feel an instinctive hatred for him, however. She clawed at his face and tried to hit him when he started to help her out of the box.

She got out herself, however, and promptly tumbled over on her little feet. Like many another Chinawoman of her class, she could scarcely walk.

Wang Foo did not attempt to reply.

At last he and Dr. Garshaski left the room, taking the box away with them.

After a while they returned with two trunks containing the belongings of the princess, whom they found crying in Alice's arms.

"That's right, Alice, that's right," said the doctor, delightedly. "I see you know your business as well as ever. Keep it up, my dear, and see here, I have determined to make you a promise. If you succeed in worming the secret out of that horrid little fright, you shan't marry me unless you really want to—so there!"

"That's certainly kind of you," said Alice with a half sneer. "All right, doctor, I'll see what I can do."

She did nothing of the sort, of course.

During the days of her unexplained absence, Alice remained shut in that room with Skeep Hup, the Chinese princess, an old Chinawoman serving them with their meals and otherwise attending to their wants.

Two Chinamen with drawn revolvers stood outside the door every time it was opened. There was no possibility of escape.

During this time Alice got very close to the princess.

Little Skeep Hup seemed to take a great liking to her from the first, which increased as the days dragged by.

She told Alice about everything she knew except the secret of the hiding-place of her grandfather's buried treasure, which she claimed she knew. She confirmed Dr. Garshaski's story in every particular, and upbraided herself bitterly for having been foolish enough to listen to the lies of Wang Foo.

But where was Wang Foo?

They saw no more of him.

Dr. Garshaski came every day towards night asking as to Alice's success.

She put him off as best she could.

"The princess will not reveal her secret," she said at last, "and who can blame her? The best thing you can do, doctor, is to go and blackmail Ah Lung out of a few thousand and set her free."

This was on the night the Bradys had the call from Ah Lung.

The doctor's face grew dark as Alice said it.

"Do you say so?" he exclaimed. "Well, we shall see!"

He turned on the princess and said:

"Now look here, little woman, to-night you have to tell your secret or take the consequences. Understand?"

Then Skeep Hup flew into one of her rages, and the doctor was getting it good and plenty when he abruptly left the room, saying in English to Alice as he went out:

"This is played out. She shall be made to tell, and you, who I believe have put her up to this, shall see the job done. You will find out that it is no joke to have passed through the door of death."

And this Alice translated for the benefit of Skeep Hup, asking her what she supposed it meant.

"It means torture, that's what it means," replied the princess, promptly. "No matter. They will never get the secret out of me. I will never reveal it to any one but Ah Lung."

And here is what followed:

No supper came that night.

Alice and the princess waited until they were tired, and were just preparing to go to bed when the door was suddenly thrown open and two men wearing hideous paste-board masks after the Chinese style entered the room.

Dr. Garshaski and another followed them, an old Chinaman with a long, drooping mustache. A person Alice had never seen.

"Young women," said the doctor, "you are to follow us to the torture room, unless you, Princess Skeep Hup, instantly reveal what I wish to know, or, rather, give me your promise to do so, for it must be revealed to me alone."

The princess set her lips together, and, throwing intense scorn into her speech, defied him.

They were then led along the passage, through a door at its end, up steps and through another passage, winding up in a room all draped in black, which was dimly lighted by a solitary candle placed within a human skull resting on an old-fashioned coffin, which looked as if it may have been made to fit the princess, judging from its size.

Beyond this was a low table provided with an arrangement of ropes attached at one end to a post at the other to a large wooden jackscrew.

It was a wicked-looking engine.

Alice shuddered.

"We have fallen into the hands of a bunch of yellow fiends," she thought. "I wonder if there is anything too wicked for Dr. Garshaski to do?"

The two masks now seized the princess and laid her down upon the table on her back.

They then proceeded to tie her hands to the ropes attached to the post, while her feet were made fast to those attached to the screw.

The brave little woman never let out a whimper—never said one word.

"You see, Alice," said the doctor, taking his place beside her. "Don't you think of interfering, or you shall get your dose."

"You yellow fiend!" breathed Alice, feeling that such cruelty was beyond endurance. "Wouldn't I like to have the turning of that screw with you on the table! How dare you resort to such barbarous methods as this?"

"Have a care!" hissed the doctor. "That's the rack—the old-fashioned rack, such as your white holy men used to resort to when they wanted to make a man holy in some other way than his own. It is still in use in China for extorting confessions from thieves. Nice contrivance, isn't it? But its use has been by no means confined to the Chinese."

"What you allude to happened two hundred years ago, and you know it," retorted Alice. "It takes yellow fiends like you and your friends here to torture a woman in these days!"

"Bah! They would rack people to death for religion's sake to-day if they dared," answered the doctor.

"But you have your warning, so heed it," he added, and advancing to the princess, he again asked her if she was ready to reveal the secret.

"Never!" she cried. "You can torture me all you will, but you will never learn from me that which will place in your hands what I choose shall belong to my husband, Ah Lung."

"Ah Lung is not your husband nor will he ever be unless you yield to my request," declared the doctor.

She gave him one look and turned her head away.

"Give the screw a twist!" cried the doctor, and the old Chinaman obeyed, the two masks standing on each side reciting something in old Chinese which Alice could make nothing of.

Skeep Hup bore the pain thus inflicted unflinchingly.

She shut her eyes, set her lips, and never uttered a sound.

"Will you tell?" demanded the doctor.

No answer.

"Give it another turn!" he thundered.

The screw was turned again.

The masks chanted louder than ever.

The Chinese princess groaned in her misery. Alice was forced to turn her head away.

They let her lie so for a few minutes before the doctor again put the question.

This time she answered, declaring that never would she tell.

"You fool!" cried the doctor. "Do you realize that I mean to continue to order that screw turned until your limbs are wrenched off?"

"I believe you," replied the princess, "but I shall never tell."

He let her lie there in agony for a few minutes, and then put the request again.

This time there was no answer.

The victim of this yellow fiend was almost past speech.

"Go it again!" thundered the doctor.

"You fiend!" cried Alice. "Release that woman or I'll do something desperate. In the name of humanity! In the name of your mother! Dr. Garshaski, forbear!"

"Interfere at your peril!" thundered the doctor, and as he spoke the screw was turned once again.

If Alice had been in possession of her revolver she surely would have shot the fiend, but that had long ago been taken from her.

Helplessly she turned her head away, stopping her ears that she might not hear the cries which the wretched Chinese woman could no longer keep back.

But the cries suddenly ceased.

"She has fainted," said the torturer.

"You have killed her, poor soul!" moaned Alice. "Oh, you yellow fiends!"

CHAPTER VIII.

OLD KING BRADY BLUNDERS AHEAD AS BEST HE CAN.

It was undoubtedly the mildness with which the old detective spoke which influenced the young woman to stand her ground.

"Who are you? What are you doing in this room?" she faltered.

"I might put the same question to you, young woman," Old King Brady replied. "I was a witness to your display of rage against a picture. You must be in love with Dr. Garshaski, then?"

"In love with him!" she cried with a hysterical laugh. "I hate him! I am his wife."

"So? In that case I may as well introduce myself. Did you ever happen to hear him speak of Old King Brady, the detective?"

"Yes; many a time. He also was a detective. He once worked for you in New York."

"Yes, for a short time. Were you his wife then, may I ask?"

"Sure I was. I married him five years ago. He deserted me. He has never provided for my support since. I have been living in Los Angeles. I only came to San Francisco day before yesterday. I happened to meet him in the street. I tell you I made it hot for him. He gave me the slip or I would have had him arrested. I learned that he was living here. I have been here again and again, but this is the first time I have been able to get into the room."

"Do you know whose picture that was which you destroyed?"

"Sure I do. A woman he married in New York two years ago. He is living with her here now, but I'll have him arrested. I am his lawful wife."

"You are quite mistaken. He never married her."

"He told me he did. He showed me her picture one time about a year ago."

"He lied. That lady is my partner. Dr. Garshaski so pestered her with his attentions that I had to have him arrested. Then I was told that he went to China."

"So he did. Twice since then. Mr. Brady, I begin to believe you are telling me the truth."

"I certainly am, but let us leave this house. I don't wish the doctor to know I have been here. I should like to talk with you further, Mrs. Garshaski."

"I'll go, but you needn't call me that. I go now by my mother's maiden name. I am known as Inez Reyes."

"Mrs. or miss?"

"Miss."

"Very well, Miss Reyes. Let us get out; that is if you have accomplished your purpose here."

"My purpose!" she replied, grimly. "My purpose is to catch my husband and make him give me money to live on. He is an opium smuggler. He is rolling in wealth. I don't care what he does so long as he gives me money to live on."

"Perhaps I may be able to help in that, but we won't talk any more about it till we get on the street."

They then hurriedly left the house.

As they walked along, Old King Brady explained about the disappearance of Alice.

"You say you heard that Dr. Garshaski had her in his power," he added. "Who told you this?"

"A Chinese woman I know. She is my aunt."

"You are Chinese on your father's side?"

"Yes, I am, and I'm not ashamed of it, either. My father was a good man."

"He is dead?"

"Yes, and so is my mother. She was a Mexican woman. I was born and brought up in Mexico. I wish I had never left it."

"Listen, Miss Reyes," said the old detective. "You say you need money. If through your means I can rescue Miss Montgomery from the clutches of Dr. Garshaski, I am going to give you $200."

"And you will arrest him and send him up?"

"I most certainly shall."

"Then I'll help. My aunt told me that the doctor had Miss Montgomery at the House of the Seven Delights, but she did not say he was holding her a prisoner. She lives there herself. She ought to know."

"Where is this House of the Seven Delights?"

"It runs through from Dupont street to China alley," was the reply, and the woman named the block.

"And what is it?" persisted Old King Brady.

"Oh, a sort of club-house. A lot of different Chinese clubs meet there. There is a big restaurant on the ground floor; there are opium joints and fan-tan joints in it."

"Same place," thought the old detective. "But where are the dungeons of this House of Delights, I wonder?"

"Can you find out in just what part of the house the doctor has Miss Montgomery concealed?" he asked.

"Listen here," replied the woman. "The only thing I can do is to see my aunt and tell her that you have promised to aid me. She hates my husband as much as I do. Still, you know how helpless Chinese women are, so just what she will do I cannot say.

"But we must not be seen together on Chinese alley, Mr. Brady. Where can I find you? Appoint a place."

"How long shall you probably be gone?" asked the old detective.

"Not over half an hour. I will keep on the block on the Dupont street side. Meet me there."

They parted at the alley, Old King Brady pushing on to Dupont street.

He had scarcely turned the corner when he ran into Detective Leggett.

"Well?" he demanded. "What about Volckman?"

"I haven't seen him since," was the reply. "Evidently he has given me the slip somehow."

"Let him go. I have secured evidence against him which will enable us to arrest him at any time," and the old detective went on to explain.

"I want your help in this new business," he said.

"Right," replied Leggett. "Can't we go it alone, thin?"

"I'm going to try it that way, anyhow. You follow me right after I make the start. If I want you to join me I'll let you know."

They separated then, and for more than half an hour Old King Brady paced the block; finally he was joined by Inez Reyes.

She did not stop to talk to him, but merely said as she walked slowly past the doorway in which the old detective was standing:

"We must not be seen together. You follow me."

Old King Brady fell in behind.

Looking back he caught sight of Leggett on the other side of the street, and made a sign for him to join the procession.

The woman rounded the corner and entered the alley, slipping in at the door of the House of the Seven Delights.

She did not ascend the stairs, but passed along the dimly lighted hall till she came to a door under the main stairway. There appeared to be nobody but themselves in the hall. Looking sharply up and down, the woman halted and waited for Old King Brady to come up in response to her signal.

"All I could get out of my aunt," she whispered, "is that this door is one way of getting into the private rooms in this building. It is not the way used by the club members; there are several other ways in and out. She says that Miss Montgomery was still there this evening; she is locked in one of the secret rooms. She won't tell me which one nor how to find it. There seems to be some mystery about it all which I can't fathom, and she is evidently afraid to reveal it. But she says that what you tell me is true, Mr. Brady. Miss Montgomery hates my husband.—It is such a relief to know it. I tried every way I knew to persuade my aunt to help up, but she is afraid to make a move. I don't know what more to do."

"There is nothing more you can do," replied the old detective. "Go and leave me to do the best I can. You will probably see a tall man standing just outside the door. Tell him I want him, please. I am staying at the Palace Hotel. Call there to-morrow and I will give you your money in case I succeed. I shall be glad to do what I can to help you in any case."

She thanked him and left; in a moment Leggett joined the old detective who in the meantime had unlocked the door with his skeleton keys.

Three Chinamen came shuffling through the hall from the Dupont street end, evidently diners from the restaurant going out that way.

Old King Brady with his back to the door talked aloud to Leggett on a different subject.

The men, paying no attention to them, passed on.

"All the young woman has been able to learn is that this stairway leads down to the private rooms," Old King Brady then explained. "I have managed to unlock the door. Let us push right ahead."

He opened it and a long, dark, narrow stairway was revealed.

"This is probably intended for a way of escape in case of fire," said the old detective. "Shut the door, Leggett, I'll get out my flash light and we will go on down."

"It's mighty dangerous business, Mr. Brady."

"Of course. Come on!"

He led the way and they descended the stairs, ending up at a door covered with sheet iron which had neither lock nor knob.

"Balked," breathed Leggett.

"Balked nothing," replied Old King Brady. "This door is controlled by a spring which works in the simplest sort of fashion."

He pressed it and the door flew open.

The long, lighted corridor already described lay beyond.

Old King Brady surveyed its many doors in silent dismay.

"Now we are balked," he whispered. "This is more than a Chinese puzzle. Which door to choose?"

"You may search me," replied Leggett. "What can be the object of all these doors?"

"Stand back!" breathed Old King Brady, and he allowed the iron door which was self-closing to swing almost to.

For out of one of the doors a man now came and that man was Dr. Garshaski.

Hastily closing the door behind him he walked on rapidly along the corridor, opened another door and disappeared.

Old King Brady carefully noted the door and was about to venture in, when the first door opened and two Chinamen emerged.

Both were in American dress. One pointed along the corridor in the direction taken by the Doctor. They halted at the door through which Garshaski vanished.

It was too far off to enable the watching detectives to see their faces plainly, the dim red lights making it additionally obscure.

The two men stood talking for a few seconds then one of them got out what seemed to be a bunch of keys and began fumbling with the lock. As their backs were now turned to the detectives it was impossible to make out just exactly what they were doing.

In a moment the door was opened and they disappeared inside.

Old King Brady was about to press forward, but now came other delays.