and began to dance up and
down, shaking his blistered hand as he did so.

"I got it!" he said. "There was only one hot cup in the lot, an' I got
it! Say, Ned, what do you know about them callers you're goin' to have?
Look like busted washee-washee geeks from Pell street. Look at 'em!"

By this time the marines were watching the advancing priests with
curious eyes. Breakfast was nearly over, and some of the men were
preparing for a brief rest in the shady spot they had found.

The priests, if such they were, entered the grove, passed through the
group of men without a glance to the right or left, and approached the
spot where Ned and the Captain sat. Here they drew up in a line, much
as the fakirs of the East Indies perform, with their crude drams, gongs
and fifes in full view.

"Hello, Sports!" Jimmie cried.

Ned motioned to the boy to remain silent.

The Captain addressed the priests in a couple of Chinese sentences, but
received no immediate answer. One of the fellows, the one with a great
star painted, or worked, on the breast of his gown, soon advanced and
stood directly in front of Ned.

"We have had warning of your approach," he said. "We have been waiting
for you for many days."

Ned started, for the words were spoken in English. The Captain muttered
under his breath:

"I haven't a doubt of it."

"What do you want?" asked Ned.

The four bowed to the ground.

"Attention. The mysticism of the East is open to you if you are brave
and strong."

"Bunk!" whispered Jimmie.

"Where do you live?" asked the Captain.

The leader pointed to a pile of broken stones at the edge of the grove.
A closer inspection of the heap told the officer that it was what time
had left of a temple.

"Tell him to get busy," whispered Jimmie. "Can he make a tree three
hundred years old in a minute?"

"Where is this mysticism of the East located?" asked the Captain, unable
to get the original notion that they were not what they seemed out of
his mind.

Again the leader pointed to the ruined temple.

"Come!" he said.

"Now is your chance!" whispered the Captain.

"You are convinced that these are the people who were sent out to defeat
the purpose of our mission?" asked Ned.

"Sure," was the reply. "These fellows are not priests. I don't believe
the chap who speaks is even a Chinaman."

Ned did not hesitate long. If he was correct in his interpretation of
the orders of the Secret Service department, it