Jack was thoughtful.

“But Jack,” Biff said, “we’re not just going to sit here, are we? Can’t we do something? Can’t we go into China and find Uncle Charlie?”

“Go into China? Impossible. You get any such idea out of your head.”

That idea, though, was very much in Biff’s head. The idea had been growing from the moment he first heard of his uncle’s disappearance.

“I mean that,” Jack said. “You have no idea of the difficulty in crossing the border. It’s patroled night and day. And the border guards shoot to kill.”

Man and boy sat in silence, both deep in thought. The silence was suddenly broken. A native boy about Biff’s age, but smaller, came running into the room.

“Sahib Jack! Come on run! Come on run! Quick! Quick!” He ran out of the room.

Biff and Jack were at his heels.

CHAPTER VII A “Spirited” Box

CHAPTER VII

The native boy raced across the open compound toward the group of low buildings where the servants slept. Jack and Biff ran side by side, ten feet behind the boy.

“What is it, Chuba? What is it?” Jack called. But the boy didn’t answer until he reached the door of one of the small white cabins. There he stopped, gasping for breath, and turned to Jack and Biff. His face was contorted with fear; his eyes were opened wide and filled with terror.

“Now get hold of yourself, Chuba. Steady. We’re right here. What’s inside your cabin that’s so frightening?”

Chuba’s voice trembled as he spoke. “The evil ones. They come. They come to punish Chuba and the father of Chuba.”

“The evil ones? What are you talking about?” Jack’s voice was firm, but his tone was kind. He had to quiet this boy’s fears.

“It has been spoken,” Chuba said, his voice trembling. “Many, many years ago, the gods spoke to the ancestors of my father. They said”—and here the boy’s voice almost broke—“they said that evil will befall any member of the House of Chin Fu who leaves his land to become a slave of the white man.”

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