Li Shoon's Nine Lives/Chapter 3

I has learned to keep under cover well," grumbled the Hound, nearly a month later.

"It is time he did," agreed Fleming placidly. "He appears to have nine lives, but even nine may be lost in time. Besides, there are no more treasure ships sailing. The steamship companies have secretly instructed their masters not to accept specie shipments."

"They will resume presently," declared Carrick, rather moodily. "There will be a ship start up the coast with a whopping treasure as soon as I have found the slightest clew to Li and his scheme of operations. It would be murder and robbery to have treasure brought up the coast with a practical certainty that crew, money, and ship would be lost. But don't think I have been idle, Fleming."

"I know full well that you haven't been idle," was the chemist's grave answer. "We've put in breathless days in San Francisco, and have raked Chinatown with a fine-tooth comb. We have been in Spokane and Seattle; we've been m Los Angeles, fairly taking up the carpet of that town, prying underneath, and now we've been ten days in San Diego, and they've all been busy ones."

The two friends sat just inside the balcony of a parlor in the Del Coronado Hotel at San Diego. Of the suite, two of the rooms were chambers. There was also a dining room and bath. The balcony overlooked the salt water. Near the door to the balcony stood a mounted telescope of unusual power. Two pairs of strong field glasses rested on a table.

"Li Shoon cannot operate unless on the sea," Carrick went on reflectively. "Naturally he would not ship on a treasure craft itself. Hence he must have some vessel of his own. That vessel would have to possess speed, for, on account of the disturbances in Mexico, several United States war craft are sailing up and down the coast. Li or his lieutenants, if overhauling a treasure ship, would need speed. If, while the operation of boarding and robbing was going on, a United States war vessel were to appear, Li would have to have a good deal of speed in order to get away from some of our long-range guns. A craft of from twenty-eight to thirty knots would be needed, or safety could not be secured. That would mean a yacht, for none of the coasting vessels possess such speed. I have had all the yacht registers examined, and cannot find the slightest reason to believe that Li has chartered any craft along this coast. Where, then, did he get his vessel?"

"A submarine, perhaps?" hinted Fleming.

"There are no private ones," returned Carrick, with a shrug of his shoulders. "True, one could be built, but one could not be hidden. It would have to put in somewhere for supplies, and then its existence, even though it had been built secretly, would almost surely be known."

"There are little ports or bays along the western coast of Mexico where it could be hidden," Fleming suggested. "Mexican rebel officials could be bribed to keep the secret, and could sell supplies at outrageous prices."

"A Mexican rebel official might be bribed for most things," Carrick returned, "but it would be difficult indeed in the case of a submarine. The Mexicans of all factions are daily looking for a possible war with this country. They have no submarines, but would sell their souls to own one, for in the event of our making war upon them, their coasts would be blockaded. They would prize a submarine that they could send out on a mission of sinking blockading craft. No, there is hardly a shade of a chance that Mexican rebels would protect Li Shoon in running into one of their smaller bays or harbors, or even in appearing along the open coast. Besides, a submarine does not possess speed enough to make sure of her overtaking a liner. The chance would be too much of a hit or miss to please Li Shoon's longing for sure things. Fleming, we must find Li's craft in some above-water craft, and she must be an unusually swift one—therefore a yacht." The chemist did not argue further. He knew that his friend was generally right in his deductions. Instead, the chemist, rising, sauntered close to the balcony, while Carrick, lounging back in his chair, blew smoke lazily toward the ceiling.

"I wonder if a yacht like that one could be fast enough?" said Doctor Fleming, a few minutes later.

Instantly the Master Hound was upon his feet, snatching up a glass and gazing intently.

"If that boat's engines match her lines," cried Carrick eagerly, "she should be good for thirty knots an hour. See! She's making for the harbor: going to put in here. I'll know in a jiffy what craft she is, and my new friend at the customhouse will hold his tongue about my inquiry, too."

Carrick seated himself at the telephone table and called for one of the officials at the customhouse. A short conversation ensued, to which Fleming did not pay much heed, for he was busy with the field glasses that he had snatched up.

"Carson will find out as speedily as possible all about that yacht," Carrick announced at last. "I shall remain here until he calls me."

"Do you wish me to motor over to the harbor?" Fleming inquired.

"No, for if that yacht be really commanded by Li Shoon or one of his lieutenants, what more could you do than show yourself and perhaps put the Chinese on their guard?"

So Fleming continued to watch. Presently he reported that the yacht had run into the harbor and had moved as though going to a pier, but obstacles prevented his seeing either the craft or her possible berth.

"She went in under good speed. I noticed that much," the chemist added.

Twenty minutes later, the phone bell rang. Carrick jotted down the information that the yacht was the Budzibu, of Dutch Sumatran register, with a Mr. Ronnvald aboard as owner, with a party of guests. A customs inspector had reported that he saw no Chinese in the crew or among the guests. The yacht had put in for oil fuel and supplies, and would put to sea again as soon as these had been obtained. The owner was cruising for pleasure, and had not decided upon his course or next port of call.

"That's unusual," Carrick added, after he had told Fleming the news he had received. "I'm going to note that craft a little closer."

Calling the office, Carrick ordered a car with closed body to be at the hotel entrance immediately.

"Come along, Fleming," requested the Hound, after examining his automatic revolver and glancing at a set of papers that he drew from an inner pocket.

The car swiftly bore them to a point from which they could examine the wharf at which the Budzibu lay. It was plain that great activity was being displayed in the loading of the yacht.

"They're filling the yacht's fuel-oil tanks with two great hose pipes," Carrick explained. "It is altogether suspicious speed. One would expect the owner and his friends to want a little time ashore after having been for days at sea. We'll take a chance or two, Fleming. Perhaps the yacht won't sail as early as planned. I'm going to headquarters, get some policemen, and go on board. I have with me a duplicate copy of the New York warrant for the arrest of Li Shoon, Weng-yu, and Ming. We can take two officers with us in this car, and a whole motor patrol wagonload of policemen can reach the water front not far behind."

"And there will have to be some lively apologizing done if it proves that none of our fugitives are on board.".

"I'm a very convincing apologizer," said the Hound, smiling. Then he leaned forward to give the chauffeur his orders. There was but brief delay with the police. Two policemen stepped into the car, and more were ordered into a patrol motor. Swift time was made to the water front. Just as the car turned into the short street leading to the wharf, Carrick uttered an exclamation of rage.

"There is the Budzibu putting out already!" he announced, pointing. The yacht was, indeed, making for open water at a speed of not less than twenty knots.

Stopping the chauffeur, Carrick jumped out to confer with the police lieutenant in the patrol motor. That lieutenant was a gem in the way of knowledge of San Diego's water front. The patrol motor returned, as useless, but one of the two policemen in the car took a seat with the chauffeur, while the lieutenant seated himself beside Carrick.

Within five minutes, the ocean-going tug Terence was steaming out of the harbor at her best speed, fourteen knots, turning south after the now vanishing Budzibu. That police lieutenant on shore with his two remaining men had most complete instructions for telegraphing. Donald Carrick, in a craft of half the speed, had begun his chase—around the world, if need be—of the Budzibu.

Yet aboard the Terence, unsuspected by one even as astute as the Master Hound, Chinese ears listened attentively to the words that passed between Donald Carrick and Doctor John Fleming, as they sat in the tiny cabin that had been turned over to them.