“Sin Tiel, apparently thinking he’d shaken off pursuit, wasn’t careful enough aboard the brig, and T’i somehow learned he had the Buddha. T’i was one of the three ruffians who owned the brig. The others were Dutch Sammy and da Costa.
“They knew that if he suspected their knowledge he’d fling the Buddha overboard, so they plotted to get him ashore on some lonely island and murder him. They agreed on Ituri, and headed for it on the pretense of needing water.
“But Sin Tiel suspected them, and swam ashore at night, and when they murdered him next day he’d got rid of the Buddha.
“Jim thought T’i and the others had the Buddha, and stayed on the brig. But after awhile he concluded they hadn’t it, and decided to leave as soon as he got in touch with me at Singapore.
“Meanwhile, I was in Singapore, and heard rumors of a castaway who’d been picked up on Ituri. I’d talked with Jim in Sydney, and learned of Sin Tiel landing on Ituri, so now I thought this man might know something about the Buddha.
“I made inquiries, and found he was one J. D. Stewart. I went to the hotel he was staying at, and watched him; but he didn’t seem suspicious.
“Then the Gay Girl came along, and I talked it over with Jim, and while he decided to stay on the brig because T’i and the others were also interested in J. D. Stewart, I was to search Mr. Stewart’s room in the hotel and see if I could find anything. Besides that, I was to warn T’i to keep off the trail.
“I was searching Mr. Stewart’s room when he came in, and he gave me the Buddha when I asked him for it. I told Jim the message, and made for Mandalay. But T’i and the others had shadowed me, and they made for Mandalay as well.
“Jim went ashore after them to warn me, but got mixed up in a street fight and was in jail for the night. Mr. Stewart appeared again in time to rescue me from the brig, but not before T’i had learned the second message.
“Jim was with T’i and Dutch Sammy and da Costa on their rush to Pei-Chut, when they tried to ambush Mr. Stewart. After that, he stayed with them because they were going on to Canton, and he thought that the best way of watching them.
“At Canton, they captured me again, and he rescued me, and because he was angry set the brig afire, thinking that would put an end to their activities.
“But it didn’t, and we followed T’i and Dutch Sammy to Shanghai, where we separated. Jim was still thinking out his plan when Mr. Stewart and I got the Buddha, so I sent him the message, knowing he’d follow on. And that’s how we found you, Li Hung Chang.”
“And you?” Li Hung Chang said to Jim. “Which treasure have you come to seek?”
“The one I have on my knee. No other. I’ll bring it home with me and show it the western world.”
Li Hung Chang sighed. “And you, Mr. Stewart?”
J. D. looked at Joan, who looked at the floor.
“If you would see the other treasure, then—”
He rose, crossed to one wall, pressed on a panel that seemed no different from the others. A section of the wood swung back, leaving a narrow door through which the bright sunshine streamed to a floor of solid stone.
They followed eagerly in single file, from the sunshine into gathering shadows, until J. D. used his torch. Li Hung Chang came to a second door, opening it in the same manner. From a shelf beside it he took a silver lamp, and touched a match to the wick. With this in hand, he went on into the room that held the treasure of the Soapstone Buddhas.
It stood about them in the red light of the lamp, like a scene from the “Thousand and One Nights.” There were statues of gold and ivory and silver, and chests of scented wood containing precious stones, and robes stiff with jewels.
They caught the cold flare of diamonds, the sheen of pearls, the hot blaze of rubies. They saw swords that had never been meant to know blood, and couches of silver on golden dragons.
Everything had been chosen for its value, and the equal of few of the treasures there could be found through all the world. The Summer Palace had been ransacked to fill this single room, and the result, seen thus for the first time, was bewildering.
“For this,” Li Hung Chang said sadly, “my friends have died; for this, the enemies of China have killed. For this is for China, and the man who tries to steal it is an enemy of China.”
A soft laugh answered him. They turned quickly, and saw T’i in the shadows of the doorway, a revolver in one hand.
“The first to move without my word dies. Keep your hands still, white man.” The revolver swung an inch so as to cover J. D. “Take out your weapon slowly, and drop it. Slowly, slowly! Now, you.” He menaced Joan. “And you.” Jim’s gun clattered to the floor. “So!”
“Rash man,” Li Hung Chang cried warningly, “would you betray your country and your gods? Did you not read the curse that rests on him who steals these riches? Beware!”
“Curses?” T’i said. “What are curses to me?”
“Then meet your fate,” Li Hung Chang said, and dropped the lamp.
T’i fired twice, the red stabs of flame lighting for an instant the shadows. Then came a crash as if the roof had fallen, yet strangely softened and subdued. The room shook, and little treasures tumbled to the floor. And then came silence, until J. D. spoke:
“I think he’s gone.”
“He is,” said the voice of Li Hung Chang. “I felt his spirit pass.”
The white beam of J. D.’s torch cut through the darkness, flooding the spot where T’i had stood. But T’i stood there no longer. In his place a statue of Buddha, taller than a man, sheathed in gold, lay on its side, fallen from the base on which it had rested sixteen long years.
Beneath it was shadow, and from the shadow came only something brown and sluggish that crept across the floor, and formed in little pools that caught the light dimly.
A short time before J. D. and Joan were married, a parcel came to them. It was short and square and heavy, and they wondered what it contained.
“More salt-cellars,” J. D. said. “People who give wedding presents display a lamentable lack of originality.”
“Half a dozen volumes of poetry,” said Jim.
“A set of glass doorknobs,” said Joan.
“A decanter,” said Elaine.
They opened the box, and found it packed with silk, in the middle of which was something hard. Carefully, Joan removed the silk, fold by fold. A golden Buddha a few inches high beamed up at them.
“From Li Hung Chang,” J. D. said, “Like it, Joan?”
“Love it,” Joan said softly.
“There’s writing on it,” said Elaine.
Joan held it to the light, read aloud the tiny Chinese characters.
“ ‘The end of the trail.’ ”
The Flying Courier
by John Ames
After breakfast at Königsberg, ancient stronghold of the Prussian kings, the great twelve-passenger plane hopped off for Russia.
I
“Mr. Reading, the Department of State has borrowed you from the Air Mail Service for a mission of international importance. Can you be prepared to sail on the Leviathan tomorrow?”
“Yes, Mr. Secretary.”
If Reading felt surprise or any other emotion over the suddenness of the assignment, the wind-carved features of the flying detective gave no indication of it.
The Secretary of State smiled approvingly. “Your chief has informed me that you are accustomed to swift changes in the scenes of your operations as an investigator.”