Suddenly she began to call for help. Twice her cries rung out, and then one of the j.a.panese leaped into the tonneau and placed his hand over her mouth, smothering her voice.

The sight of this action was too much for Orme. He began a furious effort to break away from his captors. One sudden motion freed his right arm from Arima's clutch, and he reached for Maku's throat. But after a moment of scuffling, he was again held securely.

"Girl!" he shouted, "don't try to call out. Keep quiet."

The j.a.panese in the tonneau appeared to understand the words, for he took his hand away from the girl's mouth, though he remained beside her, ready to put an end to any fresh outbreak.

"Now," said Orme, turning his eyes on Arima, "what does this mean?"

"You give us papers," replied the j.a.panese softly.

"I have no papers that mean anything to you."

"We see. Give them to me."

"What papers do you want?" demanded Orme.

"You know." Arima's voice sounded less patient.

"But I have nothing that you care anything about," repeated Orme.

At that Arima began rapidly to search Orme's pockets. There was sufficient light from the lamps of the two cars to illuminate the scene.

Arima's left hand still held Orme's right forearm, and his right hand was free to hunt for the papers. Maku, on the other side, had meantime strengthened his grip on Orme's left arm, at the same time raising one knee so that Orme could feel it pressing against the small of his back.

"What this!" asked Arima, taking a long envelope from the inner pocket of Orme's coat and holding it up for inspection.

"A blank contract," said Orme. "Do you want it?"

Arima took the paper from the envelope and examined it. Then with an exclamation of disgust he replaced it in Orme's pocket and continued his search.

"You see," said Orme calmly, "there is nothing here."

The j.a.panese, muttering in his own tongue, ran his hands over Orme's body and even looked into his hat. Nothing was found.

"You might as well believe me first as last," exclaimed Orme. "The papers you want are not here."

Arima was clearly puzzled. "You had them," he began.

"Possibly. But I haven't them now. How would you feel if I should tell you that the young lady and I have made this journey simply to throw you off the scent, and that the papers were being delivered by another person?"

"I not believe," declared Arima shortly.

Suddenly Maku began to jabber at Arima, who, after an instant of consideration, gave a quick order to the fourth j.a.panese, who stood by.

This man went to the tonneau and got the prospectuses which Orme had placed under the seat cushion.

Arima s.n.a.t.c.hed the papers with his free hand, then, resigning Orme entirely to Maku's care, and clucking strangely, opened them.

A glance sufficed. With a cry of disappointment, he tore the papers in two and threw them to the ground.

He thrust his face close to Orme's. "Where the papers?" he said.

Orme did not reply.

The j.a.panese who had brought the prospectuses from the tonneau now stepped to Maku's a.s.sistance, for Orme had made a motion of the body which showed that he was rapidly losing his patience.

"Queek!"

Still no answer.

"Ha!" The exclamation had a ring of triumph. "Mees have um!" He nodded toward the car where the girl still sat.

"No," exclaimed Orme vehemently. "She has not."

"Mees have um," repeated Arima. "We hunt. We see."

"I tell you she has not," said Orme.

"No believe you." Arima chuckled. "Come, mees."

As Orme twisted himself around, he was enraged to see the j.a.panese in the car seize the girl by the arm and drag her to the ground. Once on her feet, she did not resist, but permitted herself to be led toward the little group.

Arima advanced a step to meet her. "Give me papers," he said.

"I have no papers," she protested despairingly.

"We search you," said Arima, taking another step toward her and extending his hands.

It may be that Arima did not intend actually to lay hands on her. His thought may have been that the threat would induce Orme to tell where the papers really were. But the effect on Orme was to set him ablaze with anger.

His swift, indignant purpose seemed to multiply his strength until the little men who held him were like children in his hands.

A sudden jerk, and he had pulled both his arms free. Maku and the man at his other side were taken completely by surprise, and before they had time to recover themselves, Orme had thrown his arms around them and crushed their heads together with such force that they dropped limp and unconscious to the ground. They were out of the fight.

At the first sounds of struggle, Arima turned. Now, as Orme charged toward him, he bent slightly forward, every muscle tense, ready to strike or trip or twist.

His framework was overlaid by muscles that were like supple steel. Light and quick, he had a strength that could hardly have been inferred from his build. And though Orme's outbreak had been sudden, the j.a.panese was apparently not in the least disconcerted.

He knew how to turn the rush of the American into a disastrous fall. He knew how to prod with his bony knuckle the angry man's solar plexus--how to step swiftly aside and bring the h.o.r.n.y edge of his hand against sensitive vertebrae. He could seize Orme by the arm and, dropping backward to the ground, land Orme where he wished him. Yes, Arima had every reason to feel confident. Many a time had he got the better of American fist-fighters.

But a system of offense and defense which is based upon the turning of an opponent's strength against himself absolutely depends for its success upon an accurate estimate of the opponent's intentions. A sudden shift of physical purpose may put your jiu-jitsu adept at a loss.

Arima, from his knowledge of American fighting methods, had reason to think that Orme would continue his charge and strike out with his fists when he came near enough. That, however, is something that Orme did not do. For, in his two previous encounters with the j.a.panese, he had learned much. He had learned, among other things, the value of the unexpected.

And though his anger was almost blinding, he cooled, during those few short strides, to his usual caution.

Within two paces of Arima, he stopped short.

For one tense moment Orme opened his senses to all impressions. He could hear, with almost painful distinctness, the moans of the two men he had stunned and the rustling sounds made by their writhings.