CHINESE BANDITS
TALKING rapidly in his own language, the officer with the sword said
something to the man who had acted as interpreter before Tom could say
anything further.
“What’s he talking about?” Ned wanted to know.
“He say if you be ready he take you to jail now. Judge hear you talk
to-morrow,” was the interpreter’s answer.
“Oh, he’ll hold us for a hearing to-morrow, will he?” snapped out Tom
Swift. “That doesn’t suit me. Look here,” he went on, to Yal, which the
interpreter had said was his name, “ask him how it is he doesn’t arrest
that other fellow who landed not far from me. The red airship! Why
didn’t he arrest that pilot? Kilborn his name is.”
“I ask,” offered Yal, and there was more talk before he turned to Tom
and Ned, saying:
“Red machine man he have permit to land. He send money on for it week
ago.”
“That’s a point we missed,” remarked Tom to Ned. “And I’m pretty sure
Kilborn put up this game on us. As soon as he landed and saw we were
here, he bribed these fellows to arrest us. I don’t believe there’s any
permit needed at all.”
“Well, what can you do about it?” asked Ned. “They’ve got the upper hand
of us.”
Truly it seemed so, for now a squad of native soldiers, ugly and unkempt
enough but armed with swords and guns, came swarming around the
post-office. One of the two officers who had arrested Tom and Ned took
charge of the squad.
“I’m going to buy a permit here and now,” Tom said, with a smile.
“There’s no use trying to fight these fellows except with money. Look
here,” he went on to Yal. “Tell that officer I’m sorry I didn’t know
about a permit, but I’m willing to pay for one now and also pay him for
his trouble in getting it, and I’ll pay you for translating this to
him.”
At this the eyes of the interpreter sparkled, as did those of the two
officers when Tom took out some United States gold pieces. Gold speaks a
universal language, and when Tom had clinked the pieces in his hands a
few times there was a quick exchange of spitfire language between Yal
and the tallest of the two officers. Then Yal said:
“Mebby so he get you a permit for money.”
“Have him try,” said Tom, with a significant smile, as he passed over
some of the gold pieces.
The tall officer hurried away while his companion arranged the ragged,
dirty soldiers rather in the form of a bodyguard about the two aviators
than as a squad sent to arrest them.
“I think everything is going to come out all right,” said Tom to his
chum.
It did; for a few minutes later the tall officer, now all smiles, came
hurrying back, bearing a paper covered with big red and gold seals. This
he handed to Tom while Yal said:
“Him got permit for you. Now you can go—for a little more gold!” and
his eyes gleamed greedily.
“I guess it’s worth the money,” commented Tom, as he handed over the
remaining five dollar gold pieces, “if it’s only to get the best of that
skunk Kilborn.”
Some orders were shouted to the soldiers, they in turn yelled at the
rabble, and Tom and Ned were allowed to walk out as they pleased. They
lost no time in hastening back to their craft, where they found that the
work of taking on the oil, gas, and other supplies had been completed.
Peltok was pacing about, looking anxiously up and down. At the sight of
the two young men, who were followed by a crowd of boys, he said:
“I was afraid something had happened. That Kilborn was sneaking around
here, looking as tickled as a cat with cream on her whiskers.”
“Something did happen,” explained Tom. “And that Kilborn won’t be so
pleased the next time he calls.”
“Here he is now,” said Ned in a low voice as the pilot of the _Red
Arrow_ was observed pushing his way through the crowd. His craft could
be seen off in the distance down in a little hollow. He, too, it
appeared, had landed for supplies.
At the sight of Tom and Ned about to enter the cabin of the _Air
Monarch_, the face of the rascal underwent a change. He started back as
Tom mockingly remarked:
“Well, you’re following us pretty close, Mr. Kilborn. How much did you
have to pay for your landing permit?”
“I didn’t pay—I don’t know anything about it!” snapped the man, his
face almost as red as his machine. “I can’t help it if my route
parallels yours. The air is free.”
“But landing in Yarkand doesn’t seem to be,” went on Tom. “Your little
trick cost me some money!”
“What trick? I haven’t done anything. I—I——”
“There’s no use in talking about it,” broke in the young inventor. “I
know what you did! But I held a trump card,” and with that Tom went to
the pilot house and gave the word to take off.
The machine was soon again soaring in the air and, looking back, Ned
reported that the _Red Arrow_ was also in progress.
“He’s following us, Tom,” the young inventor’s financial manager stated.
“Let him come!” said Tom grimly. “If he tries any more of his tricks
I’ll not let him off so easily next time.”
Wishing to put as much distance as possible between himself and his most
dangerous rival, Tom signaled for some of the super gas to be used, and
this so speeded up the motors that the _Red Arrow_, fast as she was
traveling, was soon left behind, lost in the mist of the upper regions.
All that day and through the night, Tom Swift’s powerful craft winged
her way onward, covering mile after mile. When the pilot thought he had
gained enough on Kilborn’s craft he changed back to the ordinary fuel,
saving the powerful gasoline for another emergency.
It was shortly after breakfast, when Tom and Ned were taking some very
much limited exercise by walking about the cabin, that Peltok, with a
worried look on his face, came in to report:
“I’m afraid we’ll have to make another landing, Mr. Swift.”
“Land again? What for?” asked Tom.
“One of the carburetors seems to be choked and the adjustment of it is
such a delicate matter that I don’t believe we can do it in the air. We
are constantly losing speed, and also getting off our course, as one
motor is more powerful than the other.”
“Well, if we must land, we must,” agreed Tom ruefully. “But we are
losing too much time. It can’t be helped, I suppose. Go down, then!”
“Where shall we land?” asked Ned.
“Somewhere in China,” was Tom’s answer, as he looked at the route map.
A little later they floated down on a vast plain in a lonely region
where there was not a habitation in sight and where there seemed to be
no life stirring.
“I don’t believe we’ll be disturbed here,” remarked Tom, as he got out
of the machine, followed by Ned. “It’s as lonesome as the middle of a
desert. Well, let’s have a look at that carburetor.”
He had no sooner got it disconnected from the feed line than he saw that
extensive repairs were needed.
“It will take all of a day, maybe more,” he said, with a sigh.
“Another day lost!” exclaimed Ned. “That’s bad!”
“Oh, we’ll make it up!” declared Tom, with a smile. “We’ve got some of
that super gas left. I’m saving that for a grand-stand finish.”
Since they were to be held in this lonely Chinese region for a day, the
young inventor and Ned Newton planned to roam about and take matters
easy while the three machinists made a new part for the defective one in
the carburetor.
That evening, as Tom and Ned sat in front of the machine, they heard,
off to the right, a roaring, pulsating sound which had a meaning for
them. They looked in the direction of the noise, but on account of the
mist could see nothing.
“An aeroplane, as sure as guns!” exclaimed Ned.
“And the _Red Arrow_, if I know anything about gasoline!” added Tom.
“That’s just how her motors sound. Well, I hope Kilborn doesn’t spot us
held up here.”
The sound of the throbbing engines died suddenly, and at this Tom sprang
to his feet.
“He’s shut off!” he exclaimed. “He’s going to land!”
“Seems so,” admitted Ned. “But he may not spot us,” and as they had no
sight of the rival plane, they concluded that the mist hid them as it
also hid the _Red Arrow_.
“We’ll stand guard to-night,” decided Tom, and so watch was kept. But
nothing happened during the hours of darkness.
The sun was scarcely up when Brinkley and Hartman rose, to resume work
on the carburetor. But it was Ned who, looking out of his cabin window,
uttered a cry of alarm.
“What is it?” asked Tom.
“Chinese bandits!” was the answer. “They’re going to surround us! We’re
in for it now, Tom!”
As the young inventor peered out, he saw a horde of fierce-looking
Chinese advancing toward the stalled airship.