The Pirates of Shan Part 8

The three walked faster, but only as tourists might do who had left an interesting area and wanted to go elsewhere. They pa.s.sed the end of the warehouse and rounded the corner. There was an open shed-type door there, and seated in front of it on a nail keg was an elderly Chinese, smoking his water pipe and getting the afternoon sun. He didn't look up at the three Americans.

"Step in the doorway," Scotty said swiftly. "The old man must be dreaming about something. He won't bother us."

It was cool and dim in the warehouse. Rick saw flour barrels and case after case of canned food, many with American brand names.

Scotty took a position just inside the door where he could watch through the opening. In a moment he tensed, ready to spring. Rick saw the Moro's shadow just as Scotty leaped.

Rick ran out, Zircon right behind him, in time to see Scotty confront the Moro. The man's eyes widened. His hand flashed to his sash with the speed of a striking snake and emerged with a short dagger, a vicious thing with a wavy blade like a kris.

Scotty didn't hesitate. He let go with a punch that had his powerful shoulder behind it. But fast as Scotty was, the Moro dodged, then lunged forward with the knife.

Rick sprang forward to help, but Scotty was ready. The boy stepped to one side and in the same motion grabbed the wrist that held the knife.

He doubled the Moro's arm back, twisting at the same time. Rick ran to pick up the knife as it fell.

The Moro hadn't given up. He kicked out, his foot catching Scotty under the armpit, breaking his hold. The Moro broke free and started to run.

"Get him!" Zircon bellowed.

Scotty dove, both hands outstretched, with Rick right behind him. One of Scotty's hands caught the Moro by shirt and jacket, stopping him long enough for the other hand to get a grip, too. The Moro plunged wildly and the clothing ripped loose. By then Rick was in position. He delivered a judo chop to the side of the Moro's neck. The man slumped to the ground, the red fez dropping into the dust.

For the first time Rick got a look at the Moro's back, where Scotty's frantic grab had bared it. The man was tattooed with a strange design. A Moro kris was crossed with a barong, and both weapons dripped blood.

Above the knives, in bright blue ink, was a symbol composed of a short horizontal line from which three vertical lines rose. The middle vertical line was slightly taller than the other two.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _The man's back was tattooed with a strange design_]

Sound smote Rick's ears. He turned swiftly and saw that the old Chinese had come to frightened life. The old man's eyes were open wide, staring at the tattooed design. His mouth was open, and he was wailing at such high pitch that Rick flinched.

Then the old man babbled something and ran like one possessed into the shelter of the warehouse.

Scotty stared after him in amazement. "What got into him? He ran as though he'd got a sudden look at the devil!"

Zircon hauled the groggy Moro to his feet. "Possibly he did," the physicist stated. He pointed to the symbol. "This looks like a Chinese character. Perhaps the old man recognized it."

Swift excitement ran through Rick. "If he did, maybe we've just hit a jackpot!"

CHAPTER VII

News at Zamboanga

A crowd of Filipinos, including several Moros, was attracted by the brief fight. A few departed in a hurry after one look at the captive's bared back. The rest remained at a distance, talking in the local dialect. Rick and Scotty kept alert, ready to act if anyone tried to free the captive. Scotty had tied him up with his own sash. He was seated against the warehouse wall, sullen and silent.

Zircon emerged from the warehouse. "I got the captain on the phone. He's on his way."

Apparently the captain wasted no time. In less than two minutes his sedan skidded to a stop and he jumped out. "What is going on?"

"He was trailing us," Zircon said, indicating the Moro. "He also trailed us in Manila. We thought it best to try to find out why. Incidentally, an old Chinese is hiding in the warehouse. He ran when he saw the symbol on the Moro's back. It may be a Chinese character of some sort."

Captain Lim inspected the design and nodded. "It is. I know Chinese.

Those lines form the word for 'shan,' which in English is mountain. But I have no idea why it should frighten the old man. I will ask."

The three Spindrifters looked at each other, excitement on all of their faces. "Now we know the word the headman at the Bagobo village used,"

Zircon commented. "Shan, or mountain."

They waited, keeping close watch on the crowd until Captain Lim emerged.

The officer shook his head. "I could get little from him. He fears the 'Pirates of Shan,' of which he says this Moro is a member. He would not elaborate."

"Who are the Pirates of Shan?" Rick demanded.

"I don't know. The phrase is new to me."

"Silly," Scotty muttered. "Piracy has been dead for a century."

"Not so," Lim corrected. "Excuse me, but piracy is not uncommon, especially along the China coast and in the islands south of Borneo.

Only a short time ago Chinese pirates captured an ocean-going cargo ship."

"He's right," Zircon confirmed. "I've read of piracy quite recently. And don't forget, the Moros of Sulu were a pirate nation until Spanish gunboats and troops cut down the activity, and the Americans finally stopped it. Piracy is not new to this part of the world."

Scotty helped Captain Lim put the Moro in the sedan. "I will be surprised if we get much from this man," Lim said, "but we can try at the Fort. I will see you at dinner tonight."

The crowd dispersed and the three walked back to the hotel. Zircon left them in the lobby. "Be back shortly. I'm going to wire Okola about pirates."

In their room the boys took off their outer clothes and sprawled on their beds in shorts. "This is shaping up to something big," Rick said thoughtfully.

"I know what you mean. Robbery at Cotabato, kidnaping at Davao, and now this. It must tie together. Apparently some people have heard of the Pirates of Shan, but most haven't."

"Strange the constabulary doesn't know about them. But I suppose it's natural enough in an area like this, with only a few troops and millions of square miles. But why would pirates take our friends?"

Scotty didn't even try to guess. "Isn't Chahda due pretty soon?" he asked.

"Not until eight." Rick had given Chahda details of the findings at the Bagobo village and the Hindu boy had decided to spend another day in Davao. He would join them at Bayot's.

"At least we're collecting some pieces that add up," Rick said with more satisfaction than he had felt in a long time. He closed his eyes and began to review the information they had obtained. Presently he drifted off to sleep.

Scotty woke Rick some time later. "Wake up! Chahda's here."

Rick sat up, blinking. "What time is it?"

"After nine. We're due at dinner shortly."

"Where's Chahda?"

"Getting cleaned up. He'll be back."

"Where's Zircon?"