SAVING THE MISSION HOUSE
“The rascals!” burst from the colonel’s lips. “It is lucky you caught
that spy.”
Gilbert read the translation of the message with as much interest as
any one. “It makes a close shave for those at the Mission House,” was
his comment. “I think--” He stopped short.
“What do you think, Lieutenant Pennington? Don’t be afraid to talk in a
crisis like this.”
“You’ll excuse me then, colonel; but of course you’ll inform those at
the mission--”
“At once,” finished the commander of the regiment. “But I was thinking
of what it says about Chow Fun’s house. I wonder if that place is known
to the consul?”
“More than likely, for it cannot be very far from the consulate and the
Mission House.”
“The consulate is full of people. Captain McCalla is there, and several
other officers, and one or two missionaries and their families.”
“Shall I carry the message?”
The colonel thought for a moment. “You may as well, for there is no
staff officer at hand. Tell them they must catch this Chow Fun if they
can, and any accomplices he may have.”
“I will,” replied Gilbert.
“You may ride the distance, in order to save time. There are plenty of
horses, so your companions can ride, too.”
Five minutes later the party of three were off in the midnight
darkness. Dan Casey had been to the consulate twice on errands for his
superiors, so he knew the road fairly well; and on they flew at the top
of their horses’ speed.
“They may not wait for the rocket signal,” said Gilbert. “If they
suspect anything is wrong, they may fire that powder at any moment.”
“An’ thin the Mission House would be blown sky-high,” returned Casey.
“Say, but thim Chinks is vipers now, ain’t they?”
“We just want to catch that Chow Fun,” put in Hunter. “I’ll wager he’s
a bad one,--and a daring one, too,--or he wouldn’t hang so close around
the enemy.”
“It’s a bad plan to trust all of the so-styled Christian Chinese,” said
Gilbert. “They are no more religious than their heathen brothers, and
they will all stab us in the back if they can. I don’t believe one in
ten is, at heart, a real out-and-out Christian.”
There was little chance to say more, for the plunging of the horses
rendered conversation difficult. The road was better than close to the
river, but still full of holes; and once Casey was thrown, and Gilbert
was afraid the Irishman had broken his neck.
“Are you hurt, Dan?” he cried.
“The--the wind is out av--av me!” gasped Dan. “But there’s nothin’
busted but me--me timper. Bad cess to ye, you villain!” And, rising to
his feet, he belabored his steed so earnestly that the horse pranced in
all directions.
“Don’t do that, Dan,” went on Gilbert. “It will do no good. The horse
didn’t go into the hole for fun. It’s a wonder he didn’t break a leg.”
“He’s got no sinse, lieutenant,” growled the Irishman. “Sure, an’ why
didn’t he look where he’s afther goin’?” He leaped again into the
saddle, and held a close rein, and the remainder of the journey was
passed without any further trouble.
At the consulate all was dark save for a light on the porch of the
rather pretty building. A guard was out, who informed them that the
consul and his guests were all asleep.
“You must have the consul aroused at once,” said Gilbert. “Tell him I
have a message for him of great importance.” And then he added in a
lower tone, “Has he any Chinese around?”
“Not just now.”
“All right. If any Chinamen do turn up, arrest them on the spot.”
A second guard was summoned, and presently the consul appeared, in his
dressing-gown. He read the message with keen interest.
“The Cross Mission to be blown up!” he ejaculated. “This is awful! I
must get the folks out of the building at once.”
“Let us investigate first,” said Gilbert. “Is there a cellar under the
building?”
“Yes, a small one.”
The consul led the way to the mission, which was close by, followed by
Gilbert and several others. A well-covered lantern was taken along, and
a minute inspection began of the cellar. In one corner was found a
large, square box of powder; and running into this was a fuse enclosed
in a small copper tubing. Without hesitation, Gilbert pulled the fuse
from the box; and all danger of having the mission blown up was over.
“Phew! but that was an escape!” said one of the party, wiping the cold
sweat from his forehead. “If that had gone off, all of us would have
been blown to Kingdom Come.”
The box of powder was removed to a safe place; and then the party went
upstairs, told the mission folks of what was going on, and returned to
the consulate.
“And now, if you let me know something about this Chow Fun, we’ll try
to bag him,” said the young lieutenant, who believed in the old saying,
“Make hay while the sun shines.”
“The house is on the next block,--the small white place behind the
stone wall,” replied the consul. “There are two brothers, Chow Fun and
Chow Ching. Up to now I had thought them very friendly.”
Taking two of Captain McCalla’s marines and his own men with him,
Gilbert set off for the house of Chow Fun, followed by several private
people who had been lodging at the mission. Everybody was armed, and
all made the visit on foot.
At the Chinaman’s home all was dark, and the iron gate was found barred
and locked.
“We’ll scale that wall,” said Gilbert, and detailed one of the marines
to keep watch on the outside, along with the two citizens who happened
to be armed with guns.
At that moment a dog inside of the Chinese compound, as an enclosure
there is sometimes called, began to bark. Undaunted by this, however,
Gilbert scrambled over the wall; and with him went Dan Casey and the
others. The house lay just beyond, and it was found that the dog was
tied up beside the front door. The building was of stone, and presented
the appearance of a miniature fortress; for the Chinese rarely have
windows on the street side of a home.
“Go around to the back, Dan,” ordered Gilbert. And, subduing the dog,
he rapped loudly on the door with his sword.
For fully a minute there was no sound from within. Then came light
footsteps, first to the front door and then to the back. A low murmur
of voices followed.
“Open that door, I tell you,” went on Gilbert, rapping again. “If you
won’t, we’ll batter it down.”
“What you Amelicans wantee?” came a voice from the top of the door; and
Gilbert saw that a small wicket had been opened.
“We want to see Chow Fun.”
“Chow Fun no here. Chow Fun go to Taku.”
“Where is Chow Ching?”
“He all go way, too.”
“Then let us in, anyway,” went on Gilbert, impatiently. “Be quick about
it, too.”
“No can come in. We alle right. We no makee Amelicans no trouble, not
muchee,” went on the Celestial, and closed the little wooden shutter in
Gilbert’s face.
“You won’t open, eh?” muttered the young lieutenant. “Come, Hunter, let
us see what we can do.”
The dog now began to grow savage again, at which one of the citizens
who had come along clubbed him over the head with his gun, silencing
him forever. Then soldiers and citizens put their shoulders to the
door, and it went down with a crash.
A yell in Chinese followed. “No clome in here, no shootee!” A scurry of
footsteps came after in the inky darkness of the abode, and all was as
silent as the grave.
A match was struck, and a lamp lit; and, hardly had this been done,
when there came a shot from the rear of the dwelling, followed by a cry
from Dan Casey. “Take that, ye haythin!” exclaimed the Irish regular.
“Lieutenant, they are after tryin’ to git out av a hole in the cellar!”
Light in hand, Gilbert ran through the house. Another shot rang out;
and a bullet hit the lamp, knocking it from his hand and scattering the
oil in every direction. Gilbert’s arm caught fire, but the flame was
quickly extinguished. Most of the oil flew upon a large rush curtain
hanging between two rooms, and in a trice the curtain was blazing
lively and filling the residence with smoke.
“We’ll have to get out of here,” cried Hunter, who was just behind
Gilbert. “If we don’t, we’ll be burnt up like rats in a trap.”
“What became of that Chinaman we were talking to?”
“He ran to the back,” said the citizen who had followed the soldiers up.
They had barely time to regain the garden, when the flames shot through
the house from top to bottom; for it was flimsily built inside and as
dry as tinder.
Another shot now came from the rear; and, rushing in that direction,
Gilbert found Casey on the ground, in a desperate struggle with two
Chinamen, one of whom was trying to knife the soldier.
“Let up! Hilp!” yelled Dan. “That fer ye! an that!” And he rolled over,
and struck out heavily. In this manner one Chinaman was disposed of;
but the other, the fellow with the knife, let drive, and the blade
struck the Irishman in the calf of the leg.
Gilbert saw how desperate was the encounter; and, leaping to one side,
he fired at the Celestial with the knife, hitting him in the arm. As
the fellow sprang up to run, the citizen also fired; and then the
yellow man dropped like a lump of lead, with a bullet through his brain.
“Good fer you!” gasped Casey, and got up. The second Chinaman was too
dazed to move just yet, and he was quickly made a prisoner.
In the mean time Hunter was having his hands full on the outside of the
wall; for two other Chinamen had tried to escape from the building and
grounds by a side way, leading to a lane between several warehouses.
Hunter had hold of one Celestial, and the other was fighting the two
marines. Presently the two Celestials managed to get together, and they
ran down the lane for dear life. The crowd followed, and one Chinaman
was shot dead. The other, however, managed to escape.
By this time a crowd was collecting, and the house was burning so
fiercely that to save any of the contents was impossible. It was
allowed to burn to the ground, the fire department merely taking care
that the conflagration did not spread.
After the excitement was over, it was found that the two Chinamen who
had been killed were Chow Fun, the owner of the building, and Ching Wo,
the rascal who had plotted the destruction of the consulate and who had
sent off the spy captured by Gilbert, Stummer, and the corporal of the
guard. The man who had been captured was a relative of Ching Wo and an
officer in the Chinese army under Prince Tuan. The man who had escaped,
it was later on learned, was Chow Ching, the younger brother to Chow
Fun, and the fellow who had answered Gilbert’s summons at the door.
Gilbert never expected to see this rascal again, but in this surmise
the young lieutenant was mistaken.