ing mist the rain which had poured upon her with
such violence the night before. It would be a hot day, notwithstanding
the lateness of the season, and the eyes of the boys soon turned to a
shaded grove not far from the highway.

"Me for breakfast!" Jimmie declared, and the marines looked as if the
lad had echoed their own thoughts.

"We may as well halt a little while," Captain Martin said to Ned, "as my
boys are beginning to look empty. They have had a hard night of it, and
we can't afford to cultivate any grouches!"

Ned, although he was anxious to go forward, saw good judgment in this
and ordered a halt. In five minutes little fires were burning in the
grove and the odor of steaming coffee soon rose softly with the mists of
the morning.

CHAPTER XI

THE MYSTICISM OF THE EAST

"You remember what the consul said regarding trouble on the road to
Peking?" asked Ned of Captain Martin as the two took seats under a tree
not far from the cooking fires.

"Yes, and I wondered at his expressing such gloomy predictions. He gave
me quite a scare."

"I think I understand, now, why he did it," Ned said, with a smile. "He
was following instructions."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean that he had been communicated with by the Washington office,
during the day, and given instructions."

"To scare you?"

"No; to keep me up to the mark in caution."

"I don't think you needed that."

"Well," Ned went on, "this is a queer case. At first I could not make
up my mind why the Secret Service people insisted on my making this trip
to Peking on a motorcycle, guarded by soldiers like a passenger in time
of war. Now I think I know."

"Then you have the advantage of me," said the officer. "I've been
thinking that over quite a lot, and the answer is still to find."

"Unless I am mistaken," Ned replied, "I am expected to do my work on the
way to Peking."

"Come again!" smiled the Captain.

"In other words," replied Ned, "I'm set up on a motorcycle as a mark for
the diplomats of Europe to shoot at."

"Then I must be a mark, also," grumbled the Captain.

"Exactly. How do you like it?"

"Oh, it isn't so bad!" smiled the other, won into better humor by the
laughing face of the boy. "But why should the Secret Service department
put you in such peril?"

"It is my notion," Ned hastened to say, in defense of his superior
officers, "that they give me credit for sense enough to take care of
myself. The sam