ilence than for any other
purpose, "why don't you say something?"

Then, through the clamor of the storm, came the sharp ring of steel. It
sounded to the listening boys like the purring of two swords directed
against each other by strong hands.

Instantly the light was extinguished, and the shuffling of feet told the
captives that the watchful six were getting into upright positions.

"Hello, the house!"

The challenging call came from the street outside.

"That's good, honest United States!" Jimmie whispered. "Shall I risk an
answer?"

"You'll probably get a knife in your side if you do," Frank answered.
"The Chinks are still in the room."

"Show a light!"

The voice was nearer than before, and the three boys lifted to their
feet and moved toward the window, which was just above where they had
been sitting. Frank was about to throw himself out into the storm when
a muscular hand seized him by the arm.

"Nothing doing!" a voice said in his ear.

"If you move again, or try to answer the call, that will be the last of
one Black Bear. Remain silent while I talk with your friends."

"Our friends?" repeated Frank.

"Certainly," was the reply--given with a chuckle. "Your very good
friends from the American ship in the harbor."

There was torture in the words, in the fierce grip on the arm. The
promised assistance had arrived and the boys were powerless to make
their perilous situation known!

But a hopeful thought came to the brain of the boy as he was dragged
away from the open window. It was barely possible that Ned had escaped,
that he knew of the peril his friends were in, and would arrive before
the Americans were, by some treacherous falsehood, sent away.

"Nestor!" cried the voice outside. "Are you there? Show a light."

There was a rustle in the room, then black silence.

CHAPTER VI

WITH THE FLYING SQUADRON

"Go around to the front and come in," a voice said--a voice from the
room where the boys were. "I've just got here, and am trying to find a
light."

There was a rattle of arms outside, then the heavy tread of men still
making some pretense, even in the darkness and the rain, of moving in
marching order. The men who had come to the assistance of the Boy
Scouts were preparing to enter the house.

How would they be received? This was the question uppermost in the
minds of all the boys as they waited.

Would they be greeted with treacherous words, or with a murderous