that the motor boat had entered the narrow opening and that Colonel Soong would be inspecting the banks of the pool. They lay down side by side, peering through the rushes.
A sudden protective impulse made him put his arm around Yueh Hua’s shoulders. She was trembling.
At last they heard Colonel Soong’s grating voice. “Nobody here. Back out.”
The motor craft went coughing out astern.
As the sound of the engine died away, Tony stood up, helping Yueh Hua to her feet. It was dark under the willows and he could hardly see her face.
“Thank you, Yueh Hua,” he said softly. Then he ducked forward under the matting roof, turned his back, and lighted a cigarette.
His first ideas about Yueh Hua required an overhaul. Even Chinese duplicity couldn’t account for what had happened. She was as scared of Colonel Soong as he was himself—and desperately afraid of Dr. Fu-Manchu. Her explanation that she might be suspected of stealing his boat didn’t add up, either. Agreed that she was running away—but from
whom
was she running? Someone far more formidable than her stepfather.
He returned to the stern of the boat. Yueh Hua had washed and tidied up considerably. She was smiling shyly.
“Do I look any better?”
He thought she looked very well indeed. There were few Mongolian characteristics. Prominent cheekbones and very slightly slanting eyes, yes. But many Celts had these. Now that her face was clean, he saw that she had a fresh, healthy complexion. In fact, he decided that Yueh Hua was quite pretty in a quaint way.
He planned to remain hidden where they were until the searchers returned and passed on the way up to Chia-Ting. Yueh Hua shook her head.
“When they don’t find the sampan anywhere we could have gotten to in this time, they will search again on the way back. Someone may tell them of this place. It was once used as a duck decoy.”
Tony thought of his .38 and wondered how many of the crew, beginning with Colonel Soong, he could knock off as they came into the decoy. But he dismissed the idea quickly.
“We shall have to cross the river before they come back, and hide in a creek I know there,” she continued.
“Is it used much?”
“No. It is too shallow.”
This idea was a desperate venture. Should the motor cruiser turn about sooner than anticipated, they could be trapped on the way over. He pointed out that Soong might search the creek.
“It is upstream. They will have searched it coming down.”
Tony grasped the long sweep and began to pole along the bank, edging the boat toward the opening through the rushes.
“Nearer the middle,” Yueh Hua directed. “Look—where the dragonfly is.”
He gave a powerful thrust. The bow of the sampan was driven in about three feet, then progress was checked.
“Another push from this side, hard.”
He swung the oar over, found a firm spot, and thrust with all his weight. The boat glided along an unseen channel, and they were out again in the main part of the pool.
“Let me go ashore first and see if the river is clear,” Yueh Hua said.
Tony rowed in to the spot against which he had first tied up, and she leaped ashore lightly and ran off through the cactus lining the bank. He waited, listening. And as he listened, he heard voices singing some monotonous song, and discerned the faint sound of a reed pipe.
Yueh Hua came running back.
“A big raft coming down! They may have been told to look out for us. We must wait until they pass.”
He nodded. But every minute’s delay might mean capture.
The sounds drew nearer. The song was a bawdy thing once popular on the Hong Kong Flower Boats. Tony glanced at Yueh Hua, but read only anxiety in her face. They stayed quite silent until the raft had gone by.
Then he swung the sampan through the opening. The stream was deserted. Piloted by Yueh Hua, they crossed. Tony found the narrow creek and rowed the boat into it until Yueh Hua called, “Stop here.”
There was a rough hut under the trees. He
Laurice Elehwany Molinari