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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.
The plan he at last decided upon was to throw his left arm around Arima's neck and draw him straight back, trusting that he might be able to get over the seat and set the brakes without losing his grip.
The two Japanese had hitherto shown much patience with him. Their desire seemed to have been to avoid hurting him any more than was necessary. But there is a limit to Japanese patience. The scathing words of the Japanese minister must still be burning in Arima's brain.
"Let go the line, you idiot, let go!" hissed Escombe through his clenched teeth, as he braced his feet against a stanchion and flung himself back, clinging with both hands to Arima's belt, while that individual vainly strove to hold the now frantically struggling reptile "let go, man, if you don't want to be dragged overboard and eaten alive! Haul down the foresail, there, for'ard!"
"Unless Walsh, the burglar, had played a trick on Poritol and held the true papers back. I went straight from Arima's to the jail and had another talk with Walsh. He convinced me that he knew nothing at all about the papers. He seemed to think that they were letters which Poritol wanted for his own purposes." "Then, you did not doubt me." Glad relief was in his voice.
Now, Arima's devotion to Harry, originating at the time when the two had made their memorable journey together to Mama Cachama's cave, and very greatly strengthened during the adventurous hunt for the missing Butler, had steadily developed until it had become almost if not quite as strong as that of a parent for an idolised child.
Suddenly she began to call for help. Twice her cries rung out, and then one of the Japanese 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.
In the flash of thought that preceded his own action he realized that the recovering of the papers was Arima's one means of righting himself. As Arima grasped the steering-wheel of the car and threw on the clutch, Orme ran behind the tonneau. His action was swiftly calculated to give the impression that he was dodging around the car in the hope of escaping on foot.
Orme now remembered that Arima's car, when approaching, had sounded its horn at regular intervals, in series of threes evidently a signal. "Don't worry, Girl, dear," whispered Orme. "I " he broke off his sentence as the newcomers clustered about the tonneau, but the confident glance of her eyes reassured him. He knew not what they were to face.
Orme quickly slipped into the darkness, the panel closed, and he heard the swish of the hanging as it dropped back against the board. It was not too soon. Two soft thuds told him that the Japanese had dropped over the sill into the room. He heard the woman give a well-feigned scream of surprise. "'Scuse us, miss," it was Arima's voice "we looking for sneak thief. He come in here."
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