The clump of bushes was nearly circular and about eighty feet in diameter and they could see that it was very dense. The bushes, which to Bill, looked much like small fir trees, grew in a tangled mass and it looked as though one would have great difficulty in forcing one’s way through. “There must be a path somewhere,” Rogers whispered when they were within a few feet of it. “And it’ll be guarded more than likely if there’s anyone at home. I think we’d better try to get through some other place.” “Looks pretty thick.” “Sure does, but we can do it if we take time enough.” CHAPTER VIII GORDON KIDNAPPED Gordon was a great reader and usually had two or three books stuck away somewhere in the plane whenever they went for a long trip. Up to this time he had had little time to read and had taken none of his books from the plane, but soon after Rogers and Bill had gone he bethought himself of a book that he had started before leaving home and which he thought he had put in the space under his seat. So they were hardly out of sight when he had found the book and selected a comfortable seat close by the plane. The book was most entertaining and soon he was, as Bill often told him when he was reading, “lost to the world.” However, he was not so deeply engrossed that he did not look up from time to time to see that everything was all right. Half an hour passed and the book was getting more interesting every page when, without the slightest warning, a hand was pressed over his mouth and he was pulled over backward. So sudden was the attack that he was on his back before he realized what had happened. Gordon was not one to submit to such treatment without strenuous protest and he grabbed for the arm which encircled his neck. But, even as he did so, a numbing pain gripped his neck which rung a low moan from his lips. At the same time a voice hissed close to his ear. “Keep still and you’ll not get hurt.” Realizing that he was in the hands of an expert when it came to inflicting pain he quickly decided that he had better obey for the time at least. So he ceased struggling and almost before he knew what was happening his hands were tied tightly together behind his back and his captor was ordering him to get up. As he expected his eyes, when he turned, fell on the smiling countenance of a Japanese, but whether or not he was the same one that had stolen the cells he was unable to say. “What’s the big idea?” he demanded. Instead of replying to the question the man searched him and took away his revolver which he carried in his coat pocket. “What’s the idea?” Gordon again demanded. “Maybe you will find out later, maybe not,” the man told him. He spoke in good English and with almost no accent, a fact which greatly surprised Gordon. “But——” Gordon began, but the Jap interrupted. “You stay right where you are a moment and don’t try to get away because I shall surely shoot you if you do and I’m a pretty good shot.”