CHAPTER VI

The Golden Mouse

Hobart Zircon listened to Rick's report on the boys' findings, then made
an abrupt change of plans. Instead of eating in Hong Kong, they took the
ferry back to the hotel and took from their suitcases the old clothes
each had brought to wear on the trail, and to give them the look of
experienced hunters. As Steve had pointed out, only amateurs go in for
fancy togs as a rule. The experienced prefer tough, ordinary clothes
like dungarees and denim shirts.

As they unpacked, Scotty asked, "Is it safe to leave our rifles, and
Rick's camera and that scientific stuff you brought?"

He referred to some delicate equipment packed in a special case that
Zircon had brought from the Spindrift lab for investigating the heavy
water they hoped to find.

"Perfectly safe," Zircon assured him. "In reputable hotels of this sort,
the Chinese help is scrupulously honest. You could leave money lying
about and it would never be touched."

He had already reported on his conversation with the consul general.
There had been no word from Bradley, although Steve's instructions to
co-operate with the Spindrift party had arrived. The American official
had promised to get in touch with them if Bradley turned up. He had
never heard of the Golden Mouse.

"I think we had better try to get in touch with Chahda right away," the
scientist said. "So let's have a bite to eat here, then go have a look
at this Golden Mouse, or Canton Charlie's. From the description, I'd say
it is typical of a certain kind of place where toughs hang out. Each
city in the Orient has several. If we wear these old clothes, we'll be
less conspicuous."

In a short time they were in Hong Kong again. Zircon hailed three
rickshaws and they got in. "Canton Charlie's," the scientist commanded.
"Chop chop."

The rickshaw boys started off at a trot. The way led along the bay
shore, past wharves and piers, until they were out of the central part
of the city and moving into a section that was more as Rick had imagined
an oriental city to be. The streets were wide, but lined with
board-front buildings. The signs were all in Chinese, and usually
painted in gaudy colors. There were no Englishmen in sight now, nor did
they see any policemen.

It was a long way. They had left their hotel in full daylight, but dusk
had settled before the coolies finally turned off the main road. They
went into a narrow street, then turned down another and still another.