“In five days, then, Roger Sanders, I will meet you in the imperial palace at Peilong, and may we be in time to save Ted Dustin.” The disc suddenly became blank, and Roger, after bidding farewell to President Whitmore, hurried away to his electro-plane, which Bevans had ready for the trip to Chicago. XVIII. TORTURE CHAMBERS Professor Ederson was small but wiry, and it took him but a moment to squirm from the grasp of the Lunite who had seized him from behind after he dropped a note addressed to General Fu Yen from the bridge of the flying globe. Turning, he beheld Lin Ching, his features contorted with rage. He whipped out a sword, and in his great anger would surely have beheaded the professor then and there, had not Kwan Tsu Khan appeared on the scene and seized his sword arm from behind. “What’s this, Lin Ching?” he asked. “Has the prisoner attempted to escape, that you threaten his life?” “Worse than that, my lord Kwan Tsu Khan,” replied Lin Ching. “The miserable worm just dropped something to someone in the crowd and refuses to tell me what it was.” “I refused nothing,” cut in the professor. “This man came up behind me and, seizing me by the neck, shook me. As I dislike being shaken, I twisted from his grasp.” “Perhaps then, you will tell _me_ what it was that you dropped to the person in the crowd.” said Kwan Tsu Khan. “To be sure,” replied the professor. “I dropped a note, written to a friend of mine who lives here.” “And what did the note say?” “That,” replied the professor, “is strictly my business.” “I will make it _my_ business to find out when I have more time,” said Kwan Tsu Khan with his suave smile. “In the meantime, Lin Ching, put the prisoner where he can send no more notes. I go, now, to confer with our allies.” Lin Ching bowed and grinned. Then he pointed with his sword to the diamond-shaped door behind him. “Enter, Am-Er-I-Khan,” he commanded, “and follow the passageway until I bid you halt.” The professor did as he was told, and was eventually stopped before a door near the opposite side of the globe. Taking a bunch of keys from his belt pouch, Lin Ching unlocked the door, then bade his prisoner enter. The savant found himself in a small, windowless room, faintly illuminated by a tiny dome light overhead. In the center of the room was a chair, suspended on powerful coil springs. Other springs connected it to the floor, and still others to the walls on four sides. “Be seated,” ordered Lin Ching. No sooner had the professor seated himself in the chair than his captor proceeded to strap him down securely. His hands were so fastened to the arms of the chair that he was unable to reach the fastenings of the straps which held his body, legs and feet. Having completed his work, Lin Ching stood back with arms akimbo and grinned. “His lordship will make you glad to talk when he returns,” he said. “In the meantime I wish you pleasant and profound meditations.”