Ruth Fielding on the St. Lawrence Part 27

"I don't know. He did not seem very clear about it."

"Just the same," Tom observed, sinking his paddle again in the water, "there may be trouble in the air."

"Trouble on the river, I guess you mean," giggled Helen.

But she giggled because she was excited and nervous. She was quite as alarmed as Tom was over the possibility that Chess and Ruth had got into some difficulty on the King of the Pipes' island.

CHAPTER XXIII

TROUBLE ENOUGH

Returning to Ruth Fielding in the cavern: Although her heart beat rapidly and she really was fearful, she showed little perturbation in her countenance and manner after she had talked with Charley Pond, if that was the real name of the King of the Pipes.

Just how mentally disturbed the old man was it was difficult for the girl to judge. But she feared that he had, after all his claims, absolutely no influence with the Chinamen.

She believed that the leader of the Orientals was the heavy-set Chinaman who had struck Chessleigh Copley down with the club. The others--some smoking the little bra.s.s pipes, and others not smoking--were probably men who were endeavoring to get into the States without the knowledge of the emigration authorities. Indeed, they were already in New York. This island was south of the American line. But from the Kingdom of Pipes to any city where the Chinamen would be safe from apprehension was a pretty big jump.

As for the opium--the smoke of which Ruth smelled now for the first time--she had no idea how that commodity might be handled or disposed of.

She knew that it was valuable, even when imported for medicinal purposes.

There was a heavy tariff on it, as well as restrictions upon the trading in it.

If those boxes--each as heavy as a man could lift and which she and Chess had seen brought ash.o.r.e on this island--contained opium, there might be many thousand of dollars' worth of the drug, in its paste form, here now.

Perhaps it was hidden somewhere in this cave.

Ruth had seated herself upon the end of one of the low tables. She knew that all the furniture in the cavern, including the rugs, must be of Chinese manufacture. There could be no doubt that the place was fitted up for the convenience of the Orientals.

She looked about, trying to penetrate the obscurity of the place. Were there pa.s.sages besides the one by which she and Chess had been dragged in? Were there other apartments in the cavern, shut off by some of the hanging rugs which she saw?

Her princ.i.p.al thought, however, was of the possibility of escape. And she wished heartily that she and Copley could get out of the cave before the arrival of the "others" of whom the King of the Pipes had spoken. Whoever they might be--or whether Horatio Bilby was one of them--Ruth did not want to meet the smugglers and Chinese runners.

She feared very much for her safety, and for that of her companion. The law-breakers would know immediately that their safety was threatened.

They must know that if they allowed Ruth and Chess to depart from the cave, their presence here and what they were doing would be reported to the police. And men like Bilby, who would stoop to anything for money, were not likely to give over such a profitable business as the smuggling of opium without a fight.

Just how much did Bilby and his companions care for the law? It was a question that created no little anxiety in Ruth's mind. And she wondered, too, what Chess thought about it.

The young fellow lay upon the floor of the cavern, silent and immovable.

She was quite sure, by the exceedingly knowing wink that he had given her, that he was neither panic-stricken nor seriously hurt. He was merely waiting to see what would turn up.

And what would happen when the new chance did turn up? Already Chess was in opposition to at least seven Chinamen, if he attempted anything. And if those the old man had spoken of, likewise appeared, what could Copley do against such numbers?

There was nothing Ruth, herself, could do. She sat quietly on the end of the low table and looked sadly about the dimly lighted place. This was certainly a situation from which her usually ingenious mind could invent no means of escape.

Suddenly the old man who called himself the monarch of this island came from the corner where he had been standing, watching Ruth, and made his way swiftly to the entrance to the cave. The big Chinaman got up and looked at him. The King of the Pipes waved his hand and pointed through the pa.s.sage.

It seemed to be sufficiently clear--that gesture--for the Chinaman began to gabble to his friends. They scrambled to their feet--all but two who had fallen into a sluggish state after their indulgence in the use of the drug. They looked toward the cavern entrance. The King of the Pipes disappeared through the pa.s.sage.

Ruth stole a stealthy glance at Chess. She saw that he had moved. He was lying with his right hand covered by his body. There seemed an alertness about him--in posture and in gleaming, half-closed eyes--that startled Ruth. What had the young fellow in his mind to do. For what was he waiting?

In a minute she heard the ring of quick steps upon the rock-floor of the tunnel.

Ruth shrank away from the table and stood at her companion's head. What would the newcomers--Bilby, perhaps--do to Copley and to her?

And it was Bilby! The little, red-faced, greenish-eyed man, projected himself into the cavern as though he had been shot out of a gun.

"What's the matter here? What's going on, I want to know? That crazy-head is trying to tell me something--Ye G.o.ds! A girl?"

He saw Ruth vaguely. Then he glanced down at the prostrate Copley.

"Who knocked him out?" demanded Bilby.

The burly Chinaman was the one he addressed, who answered in a form of English:

"Allee same me. I get um, Mist' Blibly."

"For mercy's sake!" whined Bilby, wringing his fat hands. "These people aren't police. They are some of the summer visitors. Now we _are_ in a mess!"

"Allee same look-see," growled the Chinaman. He kicked Chessleigh, and not gently. "Number one sneakee--him! She----"

He nodded violently toward Ruth, thus drawing Bilby's attention to the girl. Bilby strained his fat neck forward to see the girl more closely.

There were other sounds coming from the pa.s.sage.

"What's doing, Mr Bilby?" asked a gruff voice.

The fat little man was panting. He pointed waveringly at Ruth.

"Here's a pretty mess," he gasped. "What between these c.h.i.n.ks and that crazy old duffer, they have got me in a nice mess. I know this girl. She belongs to that moving picture outfit. Now what are we going to do?"

"Knock her in the head," was the advice of the growling voice.

The advice probably was not intended to be followed. It was said perhaps to scare Ruth. But it excited somebody else besides the girl of the Red Mill.

Before Bilby could reply or anybody else could speak, Copley came to his feet with all the suddenness of a jumping-jack. Bilby squealed and started back, falling against the gruff man who had followed him into the cave and who was evidently the boatman.

"What's this?" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed this man.

But that was all he said. The Chinamen squealed in unison, and that was all from them. Bilby himself faintly groaned.

"Put your hands up--all of you!" commanded Copley, and one of the most amazing things about the whole wild extravaganza was that the young fellow's voice was perfectly unshaken.

Lads that have been in the army are apt to consider circ.u.mstances like these as meat and drink to them. Chessleigh had not served Uncle Sam in vain. He was as cool as the proverbial cuc.u.mber!

"Put your hands up--all of you! There are ten shots in this magazine and every one of them will get its man. Quick! Up with 'em!"

In all probability only one of the Chinamen understood this strictly American form of expression. But when the burly Chinaman elevated his yellow hands, his fellow countrymen did the same.