Phil pointed to their discarded irons and in a few moments they had snapped feet and hand manacles over the helpless limbs of Ta-Ling. Then they both turned impatiently toward the door. Phil hesitated for an instant. “They may come to before we can make our escape,” he said. “We must gag them.” Stripping their prisoners of their undergarments, these as gags were tied firmly over their mouths. “I hope he doesn’t smother,” Phil whispered in some alarm; “he seems to be hardly breathing.” “We can’t take any chances now,” Sydney returned calmly; “it’s their life or ours. If we are caught now nothing can save us.” To make more sure of their prisoners, the arms of each were bound to their sides, so that upon regaining consciousness they could not work their gags off their mouths and give the alarm to the yamen. “I hope they’ll be found before they starve to death,” Phil said anxiously. “I fear the jailer will feel that we are ungrateful for his aid. I don’t dare liberate him; he may in fear betray us into the hands of the guard.” “They’ll surely be found in the morning,” Sydney assured him. “Our friends the prisoners will clamor when their breakfast doesn’t appear, and then a search will be made for him and for us too. If we are not found before,” he ended grimly. “What’s this!” Phil exclaimed, drawing from the inside pocket of his Chinese coat a number of papers and examining them in the light of the lantern. “A telegram!” he cried, “and addressed to Commander Hughes!” Both lads gazed at the sealed envelope as if they would like to bore through the outer covering and read the message within. “Dare we open it?” Phil asked. “If it is in the ordinary cipher I know the key word. It may be something important, and as well for us to know the contents if we lose the telegram. And here is a letter addressed to the captain,” he continued excitedly. “This is surely the one which Ta-Ling tempted Langdon to take. But come,” he added hastily, “we must not allow him to be a minute longer in his chains.” Taking the keys from Sydney’s hand, he opened the cell door and led the way to the door of Langdon’s prison. There was no sound in the enclosure except an occasional shrill cry from the prisoners at the far corner. As they waited in the silent courtyard to make sure all was well before entering, Langdon’s heavy breathing came distinctly to their ears. After a few seconds Phil selected the right key and the next moment the door swung open, while the lad whispered softly: “Langdon!” But there was no answer; then the dim light shed its fitful rays about the dungeon and the lad gave a smothered cry of concern, for the sight which met his gaze was indeed appalling: Langdon, bound tightly, was triced up to a beam overhead by his feet and the iron ring about his neck, and he was by degrees strangling to death.