sizes and kinds were moving slowly through the waves, and farther out
larger vessels lay at anchor, as if holding surveillance over the mouth
of the stream which led to Tientsin, that famous city of the great
Chinese nation.

"Look at it! Just look at it!"

Jimmie pointed out of the opening, his hand swinging about to include
the river and the gulf, the slowly moving boats and the picturesque
streets.

"'Tis a heathen land!" the boy went on. "They wear their shirts outside
of their trousers an' do their trucking on their shoulders. Say, Ned,"
he added, "why can't we cut it out? I'm sick of it!"

"Cut it out?" laughed Jack Bosworth, "why, kid, we've just got to the
land of promise!"

"Most all promise!" replied Jimmie. "We've got nothin' but promises
since we've been here. Where's that Secret Service feller that was
goin' to set the pace for us?"

"Perhaps he's lost in the jungle," laughed Frank Shaw. "He certainly
ought to have been here three days ago. What about it, Gulf of Pechili
and the Peiho river Ned?" he added, turning to a youth who lay at his
side, almost shivering in spite of his shaggy burlap covering.

Ned Nestor yawned and threw aside his alleged protection from the
growing chill of the October day. The boys, fresh from a submarine in
which they had searched an ocean floor for important documents as well