CHAPTER XIII

"You are in time!" He gripped Peter by the shoulder.

"Have you stopped them?" gasped Peter.

Kahn Meng indulged in a bitter laugh. "Only the wind could overtake

them." He shrugged. "They came--they broke through our lines--and

again they broke through! If they had stopped for battle," he added

grimly, "there would have been a different tale to tell."

"And they have taken her to Len Yang?" Peter suddenly recalled that

Kahn Meng probably knew nothing of Eileen.

"The doctor? Yes," assented Kahn Meng sadly. "One of my men was in

Ching-Fu when the troop drove through. He was looking out for you. He

arrived only a few moments ago. By Buddha, how you have traveled!"

"I intend to go on."

Kahn Meng sighed. "It means only death."

"I am willing."

"But you cannot catch them with any horse. You would be killed. We

can arrive in Len Yang sooner," Kahn Meng pleaded. "Everything is

ready."

"I'll follow," Peter stated grimly, "on the condition that you answer

two questions. What is your relation to the man at Len Yang----"

"On my word of honor," Kahn Meng interrupted him with emotion, "I am a

friend. Won't that suffice until the morning? If I were an enemy, if

I were on his side----"

"I realize that," Peter stopped him. "Very well. I'll wait. My other

question is this: Why does that beast search the world for beautiful

women--and consign them to the mines?"

Kahn Meng was silent. Reluctantly Peter was allowing himself to be led

through the darkness over broken ground. A pale dot of light emerged

from the night.

"I do not know," said Kahn Meng finally. "It is hideous. I have seen

them. That will be stopped!" he added tensely.

Under the lantern they paused, and Peter found his strange companion to

be examining his features intently.

"I can add nothing to what has been said," Kahn Meng went on. "I have

much to attend to now. We are starting immediately. At present will

you trust me as I trust you?" He extended his right hand, and Peter

clasped it silently.

The ripe old moon of Tibet was creeping from its bed, tipping the

pointed tents with a soft glow.

On such another night as this Peter had first dared to enter the City

of Stolen Lives, and the faint, mysterious sounds of a caravan at rest

stirred up old memories.

The probable treatment of Eileen at the hands of Len Yang's king was

too terrible for him to contemplate. And he was as helpless at this

instant as though he were on the other side of the Pacific Ocean.

A hot flood of anger welled up in his breast. His palms began to

sweat. Each minute was drawing her closer to the moldy walls.

He could picture her struggling in the arms of the giant Mongolian. He

could see the great drawbridge swinging down to the white road in the

moonlight or the blistering heat of noonday. And on the hill, like a

greedy, white vulture, he could see that solemn palace with minarets

stretching like claws to the sky, crouching upon the red slime vomited

forth by the mines.

A cool voice startled him. Kahn Meng came out of the darkness.

"Two hundred men will accompany us. The others will remain here in

case an attack is made on our rear. There may be trouble. Of course,

I could go, unharmed, into Len Yang by the mountain road; but as soon

as I entered I would be helpless--a prisoner forever. He knows I am

returning. He is expecting me. But he does not know that half his

garrison are loyal to me. The yellow-whiskered one will not be glad to

see me," he added with a malicious grin.

The night seemed to be filled with silent, wakeful coolies, armed with

rifles. The grim and watchful silence of the procession, the black

mystery of the night with the sinking, cold moon aloft, and the

uncertainty of the whole affair, set Peter's nerves to tingling; and

his heart was beginning to react to the high excitement of it.

He was elated, yet anxious. To-night's business was no quest of the

golden fleece. The size of his undertaking, now that he stood, with

only a few miles between, at the threshold of achievement, was

overwhelming. He had pledged himself.

How he would proceed if the present venture succeeded was another

matter. Fate or opportunity would have to shape his next steps.

Perhaps in Kahn Meng, the mysterious, might rest the solution. Peter

was an adventurer by choice, and an engineer by profession. Under

given conditions he knew what to expect of men and machines. Before he

had taken to the seas as a wireless operator he had had some experience

as a railroad builder. He had laid rails in California, and Mexico. A

successful career in that profession had been foregone when the warm

hand of Romance laid hold of him.

He wondered how he could adjust himself to the routine of his old

profession again, if that was the opportunity awaiting him in Len Yang.

Governmental problems, he knew, would have to be given to more

specialized men, such perhaps as Kahn Meng.

He looked behind him, at the long line of men stretched down the narrow

ravine like the tail of a colossal serpent. Occasionally a stone,

dislodged, clattered down into the crevices. Above them the rock

stretched and lost itself in the cold purple of the night. The moon

carved out vast shadows, black and threatening.

They emerged at length into a broader valley, jagged with spires

flashing with gleams of the moon on frequent mirror-like surfaces. Ten

thousand men could have been concealed in this desolate cavern. Yet it

rang with emptiness as, far arear, a steel prod struck powdery fire

from the flinty path.

Hours seemed to pass as they advanced, descending constantly. At times

the granite walls nearly met above them, and then a shaft of moonlight

would cast freakish shapes across their vision.

Once they paused for rest near a torrential stream. Some lingered to

drink. The blackness in the sky was yielding itself to the spectral

glow of the new day when Kahn Meng gave the order to halt.

He took Peter aside and explained his procedure. His plan was to send

fifty men through the tunnel to the main shaft to subdue the guards;

the remainder of the armed coolies, numbering about one hundred and

fifty, would follow, forming a protective chain to the black door, an

underground entrance.

"There should be no trouble, no confusion--a bloodless revolution," he

added with a nervous, elated laugh. "I will occupy the place--you will

follow. Wait ten minutes."

Peter nodded.

"A tunnel, fairly straight, leads from here directly to the black door.

Have your revolver in readiness. My men may not make a clean job. The

mine guards carry clubs. Each of my coolies has a rifle." Kahn Meng's

eyes in the light of a torch were glittering excitedly. He grasped

Peter's nearest hand in his enthusiasm.

"We are so near! Only a step!" He laughed wildly, lifted his voice

ecstatically to a sing-song and chanted from Ouan-Oui: "Then----

"'Let us rejoice together.

and fill our porcelain goblets

with cool wine!'"