ftly, and ran down the stairs,
flight after flight. They did not wish to call attention to their
movements by ringing for the lift; besides, they were making for the
back of the place, where a smaller entrance opened on a quiet side
street. They gained this and were once more free to strike where they
wished, leaving the baffled spy to watch the main entrance in vain.
CHAPTER VI.
IN RANGOON.
"Now for a start in earnest," said Buck, as the two comrades hurried
swiftly through the quiet streets, moving westwards in order to put as
much ground as possible between themselves and the baffled spy. "I
propose, Jack, that we make for Harwich and cross over to the
Continent, avoiding the usual English routes and English steamers. We
want to get there as quietly as we can. It wouldn't be healthy to
arrive in Upper Burmah thumping a drum to let 'em know we were on
their track. They've got ways of their own of gettin' rid o' people
they want to see the last of."
Jack nodded. "Then we must head for Liverpool Street," he remarked.
"Yes," said Buck. "We're not far from Queen's Road Station. We'll hit
the Twopenny Tube and dodge back east, now."
They went into the station and were just in time to jump into an
east-bound train, as the conductor was about to shut the gates of the
carriage.
"Nobody followed us there anyway," remarked Buck. "We were the last to
board the train."
They went right away to the Bank, plunged into the City, and threaded
the narrow streets and busy crowds in every direction, gradually
working their way towards Liverpool Street. They timed their arrival
there five minutes before a fast express pulled out, and were soon on
their way. As they rushed through the Essex flats Buck detailed his
plans, and Jack listened and agreed.
"From Harwich we'll make for Hamburg," said Risley. "There we can buy
an outfit and take passage for Rangoon in a German boat which does not
call in England."
* * * * *
Our story now moves on to a point nearly five weeks later, when, as
evening fell, a big German steamer slowly moved up to a wide quay of
Rangoon, and took up her berth. Over her side leaned two figures we
know, one looking at the scene with eyes which noted the familiarity
of it all, the other drinking in every detail with eager interest and
curiosity.
Jack was too absorbed in the scene to utter a word; the minarets of
the mosques, the vast spire of Shway Dagon
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