The Forest of Mystery. Foster James H.

in any great danger, anyway. Do you wear any of the jewelry?”

      “I keepee good luck ring on finger all tlime,” Pong Lee returned. “Only once I had bleeg excitement.”

      “How was that?” asked Joe.

      “I was knocked down by a man that he want ring. I get run flom him. He thlow hatchet at me. It miss my head by many few parts of inches.”

      “A close shave, all right,” said Bob grimly. “Here’s hoping Joe and I don’t have such an experience tonight.”

      The youths remained in the building for nearly an hour talking with the amiable Chinaman. Then, as they realized that it was past ten, they departed, after having again thanked the man for the rings.

      While still in that vicinity they remained quiet, slinking along like wolves. They feared all too much that the sinister Moy Ling, of whom Pong Lee spoke, might cause them trouble. But as time passed they lost their apprehension and became their natural selves again. Thus far no Oriental had stopped them.

      “I had a hunch that Chink wanted to give us something,” remarked Bob, breaking the silence. “But of course I had no idea what it would be.”

      “Wouldn’t doubt that these rings are really worth a lot,” Joe said.

      “You don’t mean they’ll actually bring us good luck?” asked Bob, very much amused.

      “Not that,” was the answer. “I mean worth something in money. Pong Lee said they were. Do you suppose they’re gold?”

      “More than I know. I’m not going to sell mine, though. I’d rather keep it to remember this experience with Pong Lee.”

      “I’ll bet you really think it will bring good luck,” teased Joe.

      “Quit your kidding. I’m not unusually smart, but I’ve got more sense than to believe that.”

      There was a general laugh.

      “Do you know,” began Joe, a little later, “I’m beginning to wonder something.”

      Bob glanced up expectantly.

      “Pong Lee said there is a big secret connected with those rings,” Joe resumed.

      “That’s right. He did.”

      “Then – there’s a chance that they are worth more than their actual gold value. Get my point?”

      Bob’s face lightened.

      “Golly, Joe. You may be right. But what could the secret be?”

      “That’s the mystery of it all. Maybe,” Joe continued, struck with a sudden thought, “there’s a piece of paper or something concealed in the rings. I’m going to find out. It’s light here under this street lamp.”

      “Don’t, you sap!” cried Bob, whirling his friend around. “Why, there might be a dozen Chinks spying on us. It would about be our finish if you’d go to examining that ring here at this late hour.”

      Joe laughed sheepishly.

      “I must be crazy,” he smiled. “Funny, but I never thought of that. We’ll wait till we get back to the hotel.”

      Although it was late, the friends walked idly along Grant Avenue, desiring to see everything that had previously escaped their eyes. They wanted to “go off the beaten path,” as Joe expressed it, to see a part of Chinatown that was not spoiled by the Occidental. But as it was late they knew this could not be done.

      The chums finally came to Market Street and turned toward the hotel, walking along silently.

      The naturalists looked up quickly as the boys entered. They regarded the latter quizzically.

      “We’re anxious to know just what that Chinaman wanted of you,” said Mr. Lewis with a smile. “Sit down and tell us.”

      Bob removed the good luck ring from his finger. He passed it to Mr. Lewis.

      “He just wanted to reward us for getting him out of that wrecked automobile,” Bob explained. “Gave us rings. And, say, there’s some secret connected with them. He wouldn’t tell us, and we haven’t been able to find out.”

      “Hmm.” Joe’s father examined the ring eagerly while Mr. Holton looked over Joe’s.

      “No secret openings in them, are there?” inquired Bob.

      “Apparently not,” his father returned. “Each has a lot of Chinese letters and figures on it, though. Perhaps if you knew what they mean you could solve the mystery.”

      Joe yawned and stretched.

      “Whatever it is, I’m not going to stay up any longer to find out, even if I could,” he said.

      Without further discussion all retired, eager to get all the sleep the night would afford them.

      Late the next morning, Bob and Joe were awakened by their fathers.

      “Whazzamatter?” demanded Bob drowsily.

      “We have some news for you,” Mr. Holton said, his eyes twinkling. “Thought maybe you’d like to hear it.”

      All the sleep knocked out of them, the chums sat up quickly, wondering what was meant.

      CHAPTER IV

      Seeing the Sights

      “DO you remember what we said yesterday about making an expedition to Africa?” asked Mr. Lewis as the youths sat up in bed expectantly.

      “Why – you said you might go,” Bob answered.

      “Well, there isn’t going to be any ‘might’ in it,” Mr. Lewis said. “We’re going.”

      The youths bounded out of bed in wild excitement.

      “You mean we’re actually going to Africa?” cried Joe, falling over himself in enthusiasm.

      The naturalists laughed significantly.

      “We’re not certain how that ‘we’ will work out,” chuckled Mr. Holton. “But we’re almost sure of one thing: Ben [Mr. Lewis] and I are going. How many more will make up the expedition we haven’t decided as yet. In fact, it was only this morning that we came to a conclusion.”

      “Oh, you’ve got to take Joe and me,” Bob begged. “We always have wanted to explore in the Dark Continent. We’re plenty old enough to take care of ourselves. You see how we made short work of dangerous wild animals in the Andes and in Brazil. Well, we could do the same with lions and elephants.”

      “Don’t be too sure of that,” said his father gravely but with twinkling eyes. “There’s scarcely anything worse than a charging elephant.”

      “Just the same, we’d take care of the situation,” said Bob boastfully. “They wouldn’t stand much chance before the Lewis-Holton expedition. Why we’d mow ’em down right and left. But seriously, Dad, Mr. Lewis, why can’t Joe and I go with you?”

      “We’d like to have you,” his father assured him. “But of course you’ll have to reckon with your mothers. Suppose,” he went on, “we don’t say anything more about this matter until we get back to Washington. You see, there’s a chance that the museum heads will have something else for us to do. In that case, we won’t go.”

      “I’m betting you will,” smiled Joe, who felt there was a big chance of an expedition.

      “Perhaps,” smiled Mr. Holton. “Right now, though, let’s think of something else. We want to leave for Washington tomorrow morning. We’d go today if Ben and I didn’t have some more business to look after.”

      “Had breakfast yet?” inquired Joe.

      “Breakfast? You mean lunch?” Mr. Lewis laughed. “Boys, in case you don’t know it, it’s nearly ten o’clock.”

      “Wow!” cried Bob. “If Joe and I get to see any more of old San Francisco we’ll have to do some hustling.”

      “Be