Chapter XX: The Master Spy

Before Biff could recover from his astonishment, the Chonsi Lama nodded to one of the men beside him. A moment later, a door opened in the side of the room and Mr. Brewster entered, as brisk and smiling as when Biff had last seen him. A glad meeting followed. Then, with his arm around Biff’s shoulder, Mr. Brewster approached the throne, where the youthful Lama handed him the ruby, saying, “I know you would like to see this, after all you have done to bring it here.”

Biff suddenly felt very much at home with this boy who was so friendly toward his father.

“The ruby is sparkling now,” said Biff, “but it changes sometimes and turns dull. That worried Diwan Chand.”

“Due probably to the setting,” observed Mr. Brewster with a smile. “If moisture gets beneath the gem, it detracts from the sparkle, but only temporarily.”

“I am glad to hear that.” The Chonsi Lama smiled, as he took back the ruby. “I notice that its glow has lessened, and I do not care for bad omens.”

As he placed the ruby in his robe, the Chonsi Lama turned to Biff again.

“Your father told me much about you,” he said. “That was one reason why I wanted you to bring the ruby, as it was a good way to meet you. But we weren’t quite ready to tell the world that I am now the Chonsi Lama. At last we can declare it.”

He turned to one of the robed dignitaries.

“Usher in the others,” he ordered. Then, as an afterthought, he added, “Bring the boys in first.”

As Biff and his father stepped to one side, Mr. Brewster quietly explained that the former Chonsi Lama had died a few years after his visit to Leh, some twenty years before.

“He gave orders to keep his death a secret,” explained Biff’s father, “until times became less troubled. So a boy who was born at the time the old Lama died was chosen to succeed him. He grew up on the throne, and there he is now. I was as much surprised as you when I met him.”

More surprises were due. As Biff’s friends were ushered in, they looked as awed as Biff had been when he approached the throne. Awe turned to amazement when the boy Lama greeted them each by name and gave them the same winning smile that he had shown Biff.

“Bring in the others,” the Chonsi Lama ordered, referring to Charles Keene and Barma Shah. He turned to Mr. Brewster. “I shall now officially announce that your mission is complete,” he said. “The Light of the Lama has been returned. Since it was restored by the present government of India, I shall ally myself with that nation for our mutual advantage. As for the trouble you encountered at the gold mines, it still has puzzling factors—”

The Chonsi Lama broke off to greet the newcomers who were being ushered in. To Charles Keene, he said cordially, “I know you must be Biff’s uncle.” Then, turning to the other man, he added, “And you are Barma Shah—”

Mr. Brewster was coming forward in quick interruption to confront the bland man with the broad face and the wide ears. Biff, accustomed to his father’s calm, was surprised to hear Mr. Brewster exclaim excitedly, “Wait! This man is not Barma Shah. He is an impostor! I have never seen him before!”

“No, I am not Barma Shah,” the impostor stated. “But are you sure we haven’t met? Don’t you remember—”

He drew his hands over his ears, pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes to thin slits as he leered mockingly at Biff’s father. His complete change of appearance was startling.

“The spy we nearly trapped down at the mine!” Mr. Brewster exclaimed. “You are Bela Kron, the man who was after the ruby!”

“Yes, I am Bela Kron,” the master spy answered, smiling. “And I took the place of your friend Barma Shah after he was killed in a Calcutta riot of a month ago. Now, I am taking over here!”

Kron, the pretended Barma Shah, was drawing a revolver from his pocket. He had raised his voice and it must have carried beyond the golden doors, for they suddenly burst open to admit Hurdu and the three men with him. No longer were the Changpas carrying bows and arrows. Hurdu had a revolver, and the others were similarly armed.

Efficiently, Kron motioned the robed dignitaries to one corner of the throne room, Thomas Brewster and Charles Keene to another, Biff and the boys to a third. That left the youthful Chonsi Lama still on his throne—for how long was a question, though he took the situation calmly.

Pleased by the way he and his picked crew had taken over, Bela Kron decided to enlarge upon it.

“I started the trouble at the mines,” he bragged. “I wanted to acquire the Rajah’s ruby as a passport to bring me to this hidden citadel, so I could either make my own terms with the Chonsi Lama, or else notify certain foreign factions just where they could find him. Brewster beat me here, but when I learned his son was bringing the ruby, I decided to come along with him.”

With a mocking look toward Biff, Kron swept his hand around his head, turban fashion, then downward from his chin to indicate a beard.

“Remember that Sikh in the bus?” he demanded. “The one with the false beard? I was that Sikh. That’s how I picked up your trail. I saw Chandra buy the tickets, and I purposely crossed your path later.

“For other reasons, I had helped stir the Kali cult into making trouble, but I didn’t know they were hot after you. So from then on, I looked out for you, knowing that as Barma Shah, your father’s friend and contact, you would bring me here. I saved your life during the tiger hunt, and again, when the bear was after you. I tried to get rid of your uncle on the bridge, because I didn’t want him in the way. So I had Hurdu cut the cable.”

Kron glanced at Hurdu, who shrugged apologetically.

“Hurdu was slow that time,” declared Kron, “but he did a good job faking Yeti tracks to scare Tikse and his crew clear back to Leh, so we could hire the Changpas, who were waiting in the valley where the trails met.”

It seemed that Bela Kron, the master spy, had called every possible turn. But he had a still bigger trick to play.

“My men are stationed in the courtyard below,” he declared. “I shall have Hurdu send two of his men down and bring the rest up.” He waved toward the door, and Hurdu promptly started the two men on their way. “Then we shall leave, taking you with us.” Kron approached the Chonsi Lama as he spoke. “It will take all the wealth of this hidden city to make the first payment on your ransom.”

Calmly, the youthful Lama studied Kron, then smiled as though ready to accept whatever fate decreed. Kron responded with a glare, then swung to view the others in the same ugly fashion.

“I’ll soon decide what to do with the rest of you,” Kron began. “In fact—” he paused as a heavy rap sounded on the golden door—“I’ll decide right now, because Hurdu’s men are back. Let them in, Hurdu.” Hurdu turned and opened the door. As he did, he came flying back as though a tornado had hit him. Hurdu’s gun scaled from his hand as he landed hard and flat. The one man still with Hurdu was jumping in to help him, only to be sprawled in the same efficient fashion.

Now, Biff saw the man with the double-barreled fists who had played the part of a human whirlwind. Biff raised a shout that the other boys echoed:

“Muscles!”