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The two talked and talked.

At length he of the revolver turned to Ed again.

"Boy, you bully good swim," he said. "Me see you go down one, two, tlee time. Yair."

"I can swim all right," growled Ed.

"Yair. Dlat so. You swimee for me moller night?"

"I suppose I shall have to if you wish me."

"Yair. Me makee. Pow Chow him dlead. Me good flend you now allee light. You gettee box moller. Me givee you whole lot money – see?"

Ed made no answer, not knowing what to say.

Whether this angered the Chinaman or whether he intended to do it anyway, he suddenly pounced upon Ed and caught him by the throat.

Holding him so with one hand, with the other he produced a little vial, drew the cork with his teeth and forced Ed to swallow a portion of the contents of the bottle.

Probably it was knockout drops.

At all events, in a few minutes Ed keeled over and knew no more.

CHAPTER VII
THE FATE OF AN INFORMER

And after all these efforts the Bradys seemed to have accomplished nothing more than to find themselves with a dead Chinaman on their hands, besides the recovery of the cash.

"What are we to do?" demanded Harry when at last they had finished their examination and talk.

"I suppose we may as well go for the girl," said Old King Brady. "That's our job, I believe."

"And to recover the money and the papers."

"The money we have already got; the papers, I think, will come; perhaps they may prove useless now. The boy has evidently been diving for the treasure. Very likely he has recovered it. Hard to say."

"And this dead Chink?"

"All we can do is to report his presence here to the police, but I shall not be in a hurry. I don't propose to let this lump of dead flesh interfere with the progress of our case."

Thus saying, Old King Brady started up the pier.

He was disgusted to think that he had been just too late.

Still it was something to have recovered the money.

As for Ed, the old detective was not so anxious now.

It looked to him somewhat as if the boy might have gone in with Pow Chow on the deal.

Still he was determined to find Ed, for he felt sure that he had been carried off by the two Chinamen against his will.

They all advanced to the cottage now.

The house was dark save for a light in the kitchen window burning behind a drawn shade.

Old King Brady rapped smartly on the door.

There was a stir inside immediately.

Ethel had been told by her husband how to say in Chinese, "Is that you, Pow?" and the answer was to be in Chinese before she opened the door.

She said it.

Alice caught on to the situation.

"Yes, it is Pow," she answered, imitating a man's voice, which she is perfectly able to do.

Ethel was fooled and she opened the door.

Evidently she had received a description of the old detective, for she drew back, breathing his name.

Then she tried to shut the door, but Harry prevented that with his foot.

"Hold on, Mrs. Pow Wow! We have something to tell you, ma'am!" Old King Brady exclaimed.

"My name is not Pow Wow! It is Pow Chow, and it is as good as any other name!" flashed Ethel. "You go on about your business, you horrid old man. I just won't go back to Albany! I'll marry as many Chinamen as I choose."

"You better not marry more than one at a time unless you want to get arrested for bigamy," replied the old detective dryly as he pushed his way inside.

Ethel ordered them back and began to scream.

"Wait!" said Old King Brady. "You want to stop that noise. We aren't going to murder you. What's more, you have something real to cry for if you really love that Chinese husband of yours."

Evidently she did.

Ethel went into wild hysterics when Old King Brady broke the news to her.

It was easy to see that her grief was real even if afterward it should not prove to have been so very deep.

It took time to quiet her down and get her to the talking point.

At first Ethel refused to talk.

"Look here," said Old King Brady, "it's one of two things. Either we turn you over to your mother, who is in town, or we turn you over to the police. It is up to you."

This settled it.

"I'll talk if I can see my husband – if I know that he is really dead," Ethel then said.

But she talked before that, told all she knew, and gave up the papers.

The briefest kind of an examination was all that was needed to confirm the Bradys' Chinese clew.

Old Fen Wix had told the truth.

Ethel also told about the two Chinamen whom she had seen lurking outside the cottage.

The case seemed plain.

Ed had got the tin case, presumably containing the defaulting pension agent's treasure, and these two Chinks had got Ed.

"This throws our case back into Chinatown," observed Old King Brady. "But we must clean up here first."

They took Mrs. Pow to the pier.

Here there was another scene.

She wanted the Bradys to carry the remains to the cottage.

Old King Brady made her understand that this was impossible until the coroner had viewed them.

They went to the nearest station then and put it up to a police sergeant, explaining nothing further than that a dead Chinaman had been found on the pier; that they had seen two other Chinamen pulling away in a boat, and that Mrs. Pow had identified the dead man.

Then for lack of a better plan the Bradys took Mrs. Pow to their own home, where Alice remained with her until morning, when her mother was telegraphed to come and get her.

Harry and Alice remained behind to wait for the woman, while Old King Brady went to the office.

He was glad he did so, for upon arriving who should he find waiting for him but Mr. Clemmens, the New York Secret Service Commissioner.

"Look here, Brady, you are working up a case for an employee in the Albany pension office, are you not?" Mr. Clemmens asked.

"I am," was the reply.

"A man named Butler?"

"Yes."

"He died last night."

"Indeed?"

"Yes."

"Of what?"

"He has been an invalid for a long time, it seems; heart trouble. When the doctors told him he couldn't live, he sent for the Secret Service Commissioner at Albany and told him a weird story about finding hidden papers relating to the Bradford defalcation in the Albany pension office ten years ago. Said that he meant to give up the money if he succeeded in getting it, but this is doubtful they think up there. At all events, he gave the whole thing away when he found he was dying."

"Did he then!" cried Old King Brady. "Did he say anything about his wife?"

"Yes, that she had run away from him and was after the treasure on her own account. His stepdaughter ran away with a Chinaman and stole the papers."

"That's my case all right," said Old King Brady. "We may as well compare notes."

They did so and the result was some excitement on Mr. Clemmens' part.

He had not altogether believed the story, it seemed.

He immediately called up the Secret Service Bureau at Washington and made a full report of the matter.

They had already heard of it from Albany it appeared.

The result was Old King Brady received orders to go ahead and wind up the case as speedily as possible.

The old detective now did some talking on his own account, wanting to know what he should do with Mrs. Butler and Ethel.

His advice was asked, and it was to drop them as he could not see that it would pay to do otherwise, and this he was told to do.

Thus it became a necessity to finish up the case.

Mr. Clemmens left, and shortly afterward Harry and Alice came in.

Mrs. Butler had called, it appeared.

There had been a pretty hot scene between the pair, after which they went away together.

"Let them bury their dead and go about their business," said Old King Brady. "Meanwhile we will go after the boy and the cash."

"If the boy still lives," observed Harry.

"Even so," was the reply; "the chances are those Chinks knocked him over the head and threw him into the Sound. I am free to confess that I have very little hope of finding him alive."

And such was the latest turn in this singular case.

The question now was what should be the first move.

"What we want is another Chinese clew," said Old King Brady. "You two look up Fen Wix and see what he can do to help us out. You may promise him an extra hundred if necessary. I shall be busy with other matters this morning. I'll look in at the room at three o'clock precisely."

They left.

At three o'clock, when Old King Brady turned up at the room, he found Alice there alone looking very grave.

"Well, what's the matter now?" he demanded.

"I am sorry to tell you that the Chinamen have got Harry," was the reply.

"Got him!"

"Yes."

"How?"

"We went to that address Fen Wix gave and found another old Chink there. He said that Fen Wix had gone to Newark and wouldn't be back till two o'clock."

"And you went again to fall into trouble?"

"That's it."

"Same old Chinatown. How in the world did it happen?"

"Why, when we got there – "

"Where is there, Alice?"

"On Mott street."

"I had forgotten. Well?"

"We knocked several times. Receiving no answer, Harry tried the door and found it unfastened. To our surprise the room had been entirely cleaned out between our visits. There wasn't a stick of furniture in the place."

"Fen Wix must have got himself into trouble through his informing."

"It looks so. Of course, Harry began rubbering around."

"And you, too?"

"Naturally. While we were at it I heard a knock on the door. I had made up half Chinese, as I was before, and thinking that my services as an interpreter would be required, I went to the door. No one was outside. I stepped along the hall and looked over the banisters, but could not see any one."

"And when you went back into the room Harry had vanished, I suppose?"

"You anticipate the ending of my story, Mr. Brady; that was precisely it."

"Same old Chinatown," repeated Old King Brady. "If I had my way I should never touch another case down here. But let us go around there, Alice, and see what we can find. Not that I hope to make much out of it, but something has to be done."

Alice was greatly disturbed and not a little chagrined.

The fact is Harry is her devoted lover, and some day they expect to be married.

More than that, she knows the danger of Chinatown only too well.

The house was one of the old tenements on Mott street which had been provided with extensions and raised up several stories.

The rooms were numbered, and the number of the room given by old Fen Wix was on the third floor.

The door proved to be still unfastened as Alice had left it, and with Old King Brady she entered the vacant room.

Here there was considerable rubbish strewn about, which bore evidence of the hasty move.

"And now for the secret panel," said Old King Brady. "It does beat the cars how the Chinks make those things. Probably there is an entrance here into the secret dens of Pell street."

The search began.

The work was such as Old King Brady is most expert at, and it was not long before he had unearthed a secret panel, but it certainly did not look as if it could be the right one.

For it opened upon what seemed to be just a dumbwaiter shaft.

A rope running over a pulley hung down into it; there was no ladder or stairs.

Old King Brady pulled on the rope.

"There seems to be nothing attached to this," he declared.

And so it proved.

When he got the end of the rope up he found that it had been severed with a sharp knife, and the cut looked to be quite fresh.

"Another Chinese mystery," observed Alice.

"No mystery about this business," was the reply. "Our coming has been anticipated, that's all. This means has been taken to head us off. It is plain enough."

"Perhaps there is another panel, Mr. Brady."

"It would be no surprise to me if we found a dozen of them, but, incidentally, Alice, I have been rather stupid."

"How do you mean?"

"Why, this rope works two ways, and I have only pulled one way. Now I propose to proceed to pull the other. Ha! the rope is weighted at the other end!"

Not only that, but the weight was good and heavy.

It was more than Old King Brady wanted to do to pull it up alone.

Alice took hold to help.

Whatever the weight was they could hear it striking the sides of the narrow shaft with a peculiar dull thud.

It both felt and sounded like a human body, and it made Alice fairly sick, for, of course, she could not help thinking of Harry.

"Here! You let go! You'll faint next," muttered Old King Brady.

He was able to read her thoughts.

Indeed, Alice was as white as a sheet.

"Oh, Mr. Brady, do you think it can be poor Harry?" she gasped, continuing to pull.

"Nonsense! Nonsense!" retorted the old detective.

But although he would not admit it, he did think it was Harry just the same.

They kept on pulling, and in a moment the strain was over.

The thing which came up at the end of the rope was, indeed, a human body.

But it was not Young King Brady.

The old detective and Alice found themselves gazing upon the ugly face of Fen Wix.

The rope was tight around his neck – the old man was dead.

"Thank heaven! Not Harry!" gasped Alice.

"I told you so," replied Old King Brady. "Well, well! These Chinese make quick work. And such is the fate of our informer!"

CHAPTER VIII
A PRISONER IN THE SECRET DENS OF PELL STREET

If Harry was not hung there in that shaft, where then was he?

This must now be explained.

There were two secret panels in that room, as Alice had suggested.

Harry got into the other one.

They caught him suddenly from behind.

The Chinamen, we mean.

He did not see them; he did not hear them. The first he knew a hand was clapped over his mouth and some fearful thing clutched his throat.

It was nothing less than a big pair of nippers which seemed to have been constructed for that very purpose, so well did they suit it.

Harry thought he was a goner.

He could not cry out at first on account of the hand.

The next instant the nippers had him – he could not even turn.

He was dragged backward and knew that he was going through a secret panel near the chimney breast.

Two Chinamen had him captured.

Behind the panel was a shallow space, but it was wide enough for them to stand three abreast.

This trap had been most cleverly constructed.

One of the Chinks pulled a handle and the floor began to descend.

Half strangled, Harry almost lost consciousness, and his head fell forward.

Evidently his tormentors did not intend to go but just so far for immediately the pressure was relaxed.

For a moment things seemed dim and misty.

When Young King Brady recovered himself he was standing in an underground passage leaning against the wall.

Three Chinamen were with him now.

In the third, who held a revolver, Harry recognized a man whom he knew.

It was one Joe Ding, a notorious highbinder.

Only a few months before the Bradys had captured him in connection with a tong shooting affray.

As there did not seem to be much evidence to connect the man with the affair, he had been set free, and that at Harry's suggestion.

Joe Ding knew this, and he had expressed the greatest gratitude at the time.

It was something of a relief to recognize him now, nevertheless it is never safe to trust a highbinder, for murder and robbery is their trade.

"So it's you, Brady," said Joe Ding, who, although now in Chinese dress, did not usually appear so, and what is more he spoke as good English as one could wish.

"Joe Ding!" gasped Harry.

"Yes, as you see. What are you doing here?"

"Why do you ask me that question – you who captured me?"

"I didn't capture you, Brady. It was my friends here."

"But why?"

"Oh, they want to ask you a few questions, and as they don't speak English, I must do the asking."

"Hurry up, then. Can't those infernal nippers be taken off my neck?"

Joe Ding seemed to think so, for he now removed them.

"You are trying to find money sunk in the sand, you and Old King Brady, aren't you?" he demanded.

"Who told you that?" asked Harry.

"Do you deny it?"

"I have said what I have to say."

"You answer my question by asking another. It won't help you any, Brady. Believe me, you better do what I tell you if you expect to get out of this scrap alive."

"Would you kill me after what I have done for you, Joe Ding?"

"I might; it is hard to say," replied the Chinaman with a grin. "However, if it is going to help matters along, I'll answer your question. Follow me."

He clutched Harry's arm and led him forward a few feet.

They had now come underneath an open shaft.

Here there was a rope attached to a ring.

Joe Ding tried to untie it, but did not seem to succeed.

Losing his patience, he pulled out his knife and cut the rope in spite of the protest of one of the other Chinks.

Immediately the rope ran up over a pulley above, apparently, and that with great rapidity.

Evidently something heavy was attached to the other end.

Needless to say it was the corpse of Fen Wix, the informer.

It came down into a sort of niche and stood there leaning against the wall.

Harry shuddered as he looked at it.

"So you have hung the old man?" he gasped.

"As you see," replied Joe Ding. "Is he the man who blabbed to Old King Brady about Pow Chow and this treasure business?"

"Now that he is dead I suppose I may as well admit it. Yes, he is the man."

"I thought so! Then we have made no mistake. Hold on a minute, Brady, till I tell my brothers here."

It looked to Harry as if he should probably have to hold on a good many minutes before he got clear of this outfit if he ever did.

He shuddered as he stood there listening to the gabble of the Chinamen, and wondering what his own fate might be.

"I don't know that I have any further questions to ask you now, Brady," said the Chinaman at length. "You may have a few to ask on your own account, however. If so, now is your chance, for I am in the mood to answer any reasonable question as it happens."

"Why have you captured me?" demanded Harry. "That is the main question."

"And it shall be answered. I have captured you on general principles. I know what you Bradys are. Once you put your hand to a case you never let up. I want to give Old King Brady something else to think of, so as to turn his attention away from this treasure business. Naturally he will now turn his attention to finding you, but take my word for it he won't succeed."

"Joe," said Harry, "you take my word for it, you will do well to let me go."

"Wait, Brady, I'll tell you something you don't know by and by," whispered the Chinaman. "I'm doing you a big favor if you only knew it."

He winked and looked wise.

Harry stopped talking then.

He came to the conclusion that one at least of the other Chinks understood English.

It seemed best to fall in with the situation for the present at least.

The usual programme in such cases was now carried out.

Young King Brady was blindfolded and led through passages, up steps and down, in and out until he finally landed in an underground room decently furnished in Chinese style.

There was nothing notable about the room except a handsome gilt scroll hanging against the wall which represented the Chinese dragon. It was really a handsome piece of work.

Here the eye bandage was removed and Harry was left to his own reflections.

They were anything but pleasant, for once again he found himself a prisoner in the secret dens of Pell street.

"But why didn't they take Alice?" he asked himself. "Why was it only me?"

He was soon to learn, if Joe Ding was to be believed, for within an hour the Chinaman came to him alone, unlocking the heavy door behind a pair of portieres which had resisted all Harry's efforts.

He might, indeed, have managed to open it if he had been left his skeleton keys.

But as we should have mentioned, he was searched at the start, and these with his revolver, watch and what money he had about him, were taken away.

The Chinaman locked the door behind him and came forward with a look of mystery on his face.

"I suppose you are feeling very sore toward me, Brady," he said.

"Well, I must admit, Joe, that I am not especially happy," replied Harry. "But what is it you have to say? Let's have it, quick!"

"It's just this," replied the Chinaman, "I've saved your life."

"How do you figure that out?"

"Easy. You have bunked up against one of the most dangerous tongs in Chinatown, and all the more dangerous on account of its being so little known. I refer to the Brotherhood of the Red Door."

"I have known this long time that such a society existed in San Francisco, but I didn't know they had a lodge here in New York."

"Well, they have."

"Are you a member?"

"Now don't go to asking questions. It is enough for you to know that your death has been decreed by this tong. It is the same with Old King Brady. You want to tell him that."

"How can I tell him when I am a prisoner here in this secret den?"

"Wait! You may get out of this. Now let me tell you that I helped capture you for a purpose. I haven't forgotten what you did for me. I persuaded them to lock you up in this room till night. Then they mean to kill you, run your corpse out in a wagon, and dump it into the river, but I am here now to set you free."

Joe Ding seemed sincere.

Harry responded heartily.

Thanking the Chinaman, he promised that he should be well paid if he carried out his plan.

"I hope you will let up on that money business," Joe said. "I warn you, it is at the risk of your lives if you follow it up."

"Look here, Joe," replied Harry, "that's all right. I can only promise to tell Old King Brady what you say. He will do as he pleases, but there was a boy mixed up in that business. What about him? Is he alive or dead?"

"Ask me nothing," replied Joe Ding. "I can tell nothing, nor will I. I am here to help you, and that is just as far as I'm going – see?"

Harry gave up then, as there seemed to be no other way.

Joe Ding now unlocked the door, and telling Harry to wait, went out through the passage and was gone for some moments.

At last he returned and announced that the coast was clear.

"Come along," he added. "If I can only get you safe out on Pell street it is all I ask, but understand one thing, if we are spotted, I beat it. You will have to look out for yourself in that case. I have my own life to save."

"All right," said Harry. "Lead on."

They hurried along the passage and came to a flight of rickety wooden steps.

Joe Ding stopped to listen.

"It is all right," he said. "You don't hear anything, do you?"

"Not a sound."

"Good! Come!"

They started up the steps then.

Joe Ding, we should have mentioned, carried an ordinary lantern.

The Chinaman was ahead, and no sooner had he reached the top of the steps than he ran against trouble.

Instantly three Chinamen rose up from the floor and flung themselves upon him.

Such another snarling scrap for a moment there never was. It was like a cat fight.

Harry jumped in to help.

There was no chance.

The lantern went down and was extinguished.

At the same instant someone came tumbling down the steps.

Whoever it was bowled Harry off his feet and he went down, too.

The man sprang up and chased off along the passage, but poor Harry hit his head as he fell, and half stunned, was slow to rise.

Before he could get on his feet the enemy was upon him.

A flashlight was displayed.

Harry was seized and thrown down again.

There were five Chinks in it now.

Joe Ding was not among them.

Two bent over Young King Brady, one choking him until he was helpless.

Another producing a bottle, forced him to swallow some vile tasting stuff.

This settled it.

Young King Brady's brain quickly began to whirl.

In a very few moments he was unconscious.

Joe Ding's plan had failed.

True to his threat, he promptly "beat it" when trouble came, leaving poor Harry still in the power of the Chinese of the secret dens of Pell street.