CHAPTER XII.--A MEMBER OF THE OWL PATROL.

When Jimmie awoke the fire which had burned in the cavern had gone out, and those who remained in the chamber seemed to be fast asleep. He tumbled out of his alcove, still feeling weak and dizzy, and moved toward a hanging rug which closed the entrance to the place.

He drew one side of the rug back and saw the white light of day. The sun seemed to be high up in the sky, for the ledge at the front of the cavern showed a streak of gold. Two Chinamen sat at the entrance to the outer cave, and when he advanced toward them they waved him back. Instead of retreating he stood regarding them with a puzzled look on his face.

One was Chang Chee, the keeper of the disreputable Chinese dive on Doyers street, whom Jimmie had noticed the night before, and the other was a much younger man--a boy, in fact. When Chang ordered Jimmie back the youngster turned toward him a face showing both curiosity and interest.

"What's doin' here?" Jimmie demanded, in a moment.

He thought best not to show that he recognized Chang, for he knew that the identification of the Chinaman would only add to his peril, if that were possible. It was certain that Chang would never permit the information that he had been seen there to get out to the government officers.

Jimmie's idea at that time was that he had blundered on a gang of opium smugglers, although he could not understand why so many Chinamen were, apparently, engaged in the illegal traffic.

Chang finally turned his face away, with a frown, and Jimmie advanced a step toward the boy, who threw himself carelessly down on his back and extended his right arm straight up from the shoulder. Jimmie's eyes opened wider, and his breath almost stopped, when he saw the thumb and little finger thrown diagonally across the palm of the hand, the tip of the thumb covering the nail of the little finger, the three remaining fingers pointing upward.

In the excitement of the moment, in the amazement caused by his recognition of the Boy Scout challenge, Jimmie lost all caution.

"Say!" he began, but Chang turned a repulsive face and ordered him into the rear chamber.

The boy, thankful for the interruption, moved back a few paces, believing that the Chinese boy who had given him the sign would communicate with him as soon as opportunity offered.

This was the greatest puzzle the lad had ever been called upon to solve. Some of the questions he asked himself were:

"How did that Chinese boy become a Boy Scout?"

"Is there a Chinese patrol?"

"Was he permitted to become a member of an American patrol?"

"Why is he mixed up with that disreputable old Chink?"

"Will he help me out of this hole, or will he ignore me?"

Of course there was not one of the questions the boy could answer, so he went back to his alcove and sat down, half believing that he had imagined the challenge.

As the day wore on the men who had been asleep in the inner chamber arose, staggeringly, as if still under the stupefying influence of opium, and made their trembling way outside. When they had all disappeared Chang pushed the rug aside so as to bring more light and air into the place and came and stood looking down on the boy.

Jimmie did not look up. He saw the shrunken figure up as far as the knees only. He was resolved not to open any conversation with the Chink. If he wanted to talk, Jimmie thought, let him choose his own subject and introduce it in his own way.

The yellow face of the Chinaman seemed to take on a more mask-like expression--or want of expression, rather--as the silence continued. When he spoke it was with a snarl which boded no good to the boy.

"Hungly?" he demanded.

"Hungry?" repeated Jimmie. "You know it! If you've got any rat sandwiches or puppy potpies, just introduce me!"

"Flesh!" growled Chang.

"Flesh?" repeated Jimmie. "Oh, yes, you mean fresh? Well, you'd be just as fresh as I am if you were as hungry."

"Cheek!" cried Chang. "Kid allels have cheek--an' tummy!"

"Sure," said Jimmie. "Go on an' get me a porterhouse steak with French potatoes. I could eat a car of raw onions."

Chang turned away and walked out to the ledge, where the Chinese boy stood, looking out into the sunshine. It was a glorious morning, with the air clear and just a little sharp, owing to the altitude. Here and there little swirls of smoke showed that fires were burning in the forest, though none seemed to be close to the range.

Reaching the boy's side Chang addressed a few words to him in Chinese and left the cave, turning back, after a few paces, to observe the boy, now standing with a long, keen-bladed clasp-knife in his hand. As Chang looked the boy ran his finger over the edge of the blade, as if to make sure that it was suitable for some purpose he had in view.

With an exclamation of rage Chang charged back at him and snatched the knife from his hand.

"You fool!" he cried.

"You let me alone!" shouted the other. "I tell you, I'm going to kill him!"

Jimmie heard the words and rose unsteadily to his feet. He recognized the voice as that of the boy who had given him the Boy Scout challenge. At least it was not that of Chang, and there were only two figures outlined against the sky when he looked out beyond the rug, still pushed aside.

"Fool! Fool! Fool!"

Chang gritted out the words as he took the Chinese boy by the back of the neck and hustled him into the cave. Then he spoke for a minute in Chinese and turned away again. Jimmie stepped back into his alcove and felt around for a stone, or anything in the shape of a weapon, as the boy advanced toward him.

"What does the badge say?"

Jimmie opened his eyes wider than ever, if possible, and stood facing the boy, half hiding the stone he had found.

"Be prepared," he replied.

"Then drop that rock!"

Jimmie dropped it and stepped forward.

"Liu, Owl patrol, San Francisco," the Chinese boy said.

"McGraw, Wolf patrol, New York," replied Jimmie.

"You don't look very comfortable in here," Liu said.

"Nixy," replied Jimmie, wondering if the boy really was preparing to carry out the threat he had made to Chang.

"You heard what I just said to Chang?" Liu asked.

Jimmie nodded his bandaged head.

"Bluff!" said Liu. "He's watching now to see that I don't make an attempt on your life. Had to do it!"

"I see," Jimmie replied, wondering if it wasn't pretty near time to wake up.

"Why don't he want me killed?" Jimmie asked in a moment.

"He thinks you have information he needs," was the answer. "Are you hungry?"

"That's what Chang asked," Jimmie said, "but he didn't bring me any grub."

"He told me to," grinned Liu, "and I told him that I'd kill you if I got near enough to do so. He'll hang around until he sees me bring you something to eat."

"You ain't so very slow yourself," grinned Jimmie. "Where did you learn to speak United States so well?"

"Born in Frisco," was the reply. "The Boy Scouts take me out on their hunting trips to do the cooking. That's why I'm here now. I know the mountains, and Chang hired me to go along with him."

"An' they took you into the patrol, did they?" asked Jimmie.

"Sure they did," was the reply. "Why not? I'm an American citizen, or will be in four years."

"Have they captured any of the others?" asked Jimmie.

The Chinese boy shook his head.

"Have they heard from the men they sent out to capture them?" was the next question.

Another shake of the head, then Liu drew closer and whispered.

"Do you see Chang poking his head around that rock in the opening? He's watching to see that I don't knife you!"

Jimmie saw the parchment-like face of the old reprobate peering around the rock and wanted to heave a stone at it, but knew that this would not be good policy. Instead he threw it at Liu, and missed, of course.

"You seem to be wide awake yourself," Liu said.

"Why don't you go and get me some grub?" demanded Jimmie. "I'm near starved to death."

"All right!" said Liu, and turned away.

Jimmie was now in a deeper puzzle than before. He had no means of knowing whether Liu was telling him the truth. He might be trying to get into his confidence in order to gain the information sought, whatever it was.

However, in a short time Liu returned with a generous supply of food, fried fish, fresh biscuit--the boy wondered how Liu had managed to bake them there--coffee, and plenty of tinned goods.

"What's this bunch doin' here?" the boy asked, as he made heavy inroads on the fresh fish, coffee and biscuits.

"I don't know," was the hesitating reply.

"I know," Jimmie went on. "They're smuggling opium an' setting fire to the woods. They'll all get pinched!"

"I hope so," was the reply.

"It sounds odd to hear a Chinese boy talk straight United States," Jimmie said, after a short silence.

Liu made no reply for a moment. He was watching the ledge outside the entrance to the cave. The occasional rattle of pebbles told him that some one was standing there, probably just out of sight.

"What is Chang doin' here?" Jimmie asked, presently.

"He's in some scheme with the foresters," was the reply.

"They ain't no foresters!" Jimmie said. "They're timber thieves an' smugglers, an' firebugs, an' murderers!"

Liu shuddered but remained silent. After listening a second he went to the entrance and looked out. There was no one in sight at first, then a roughly dressed fellow came around the angle of the cliff to the north and approached him. The fellow was rather short for a man of his width of shoulder, and his step was remarkably light and quick for one of his apparent weight.

His face was sun and wind-tanned, with plenty of mountain soil on top of that. A cartridge-belt encircled the loose jacket he wore and a revolver handle protruded from the pistol pocket of his trousers.

"What's the word?" he asked, gruffly, as he came up to Liu.

"Go on in," replied Liu.

Jimmie saw evidences of treachery in the hostile attitude of the newcomer and retreated farther into the cavern.

Then he saw Liu doubling up with laughter and stopped. It didn't look very amusing to him, especially as the stranger was advancing toward him with swift strides. Then something remotely familiar in the set of the shoulders, the carriage of the head, attracted his closer attention to the figure and he moved forward a step.

"You're a nice little boy to get into a trap like this!"

There was no mistaking that voice. Just how Ned Nestor had secured that disguise and found his way to that spot Jimmie did not stop to think. He knew that it was his chum, and that was enough. While the two boys clasped hands Liu stood regarding them smilingly, at the same time watching the entrance.

"How did you ever find this hole?" Jimmie asked, his wonder at the thing which had happened mastering all else.

"I saw this cave when my machine dropped into a hole in the air in the canyon," was the reply. "The shelf where we landed is just above this cavern. There was a fire in the outer room, and numerous Chinamen were moving about."

"They're opium smugglers," Jimmie said.

"Man smugglers!" laughed Ned.

"Do you mean that they bring Chinks over the border here, an' so run them down into civilization whenever they get a chance?" demanded Jimmie.

"That is just it," Ned answered. "We seem to have come upon a lot of the articles to be smuggled," he added.

"How did you come across Liu?" Jimmie asked.

"Oh, I met him while I was prowling about not far from the cave, at daylight," was the reply. "He helped me get this disguise."

Liu was still watching at the mouth of the cavern, so the boys talked freely, with little fear of being disturbed. Ned told of his return to the camp, and of the all-night hunt for the missing boy. It took Ned and Frank a long time to find the opening the former had seen in his swift drop down the canyon, but about daylight it was located.

They had, however, found many Chinamen loitering about, and Frank had gone back to camp to reassure the others, while Ned remained on the eastern side on the chance of getting into communication with Jimmie. While loitering about Liu had come up the slope.

It was quite a long story, that of his getting a perfect understanding with Liu, and Ned cut it as short as possible, merely saying that Liu had recognized his name, having heard his associates mention it frequently. Then the Chinese boy had procured the disguise and Ned had stuffed out the shoulders of the coat to give it a better fit.

"I was observed by a half a dozen men, some Americans, some Chinamen, while getting in here," Ned said, then, "but the disguise misled them. Now, the question is this: How are we going to get out?"

"We'll have to fight our way out?" asked Jimmie.

"It won't answer," Ned replied. "They are too many for us."

Liu now came into the second cave and held up his hand for silence.

"You'll have to hide in the back chamber," he said. "Chang is coming in."

"I thought this was the back chamber," Jimmie said.

"I suspect," Liu said, "that there's a chain of caves running through the divide. Come on!"

Liu passed back to the west, removed a great box which stood against the rear wall, and disclosed an opening through which the patrol leader crawled. When the box was replaced Ned stopped and listened. What he heard was the click of a typewriter.