hey pinch
Peter Moore in Hong Kong, they will have to extradite him from Kowloon.
In other words, they will have to go some. Besides, what Peter does in
Shanghai cannot be laid against him in Hong Kong. The law's the law."

A savage tenor whine here broke in upon Manila's laughing answer, the
Hi! Hi! Hi! of the amused radio man; and Peter listened in some
annoyance to the peremptory summons of a United States gunboat,
probably nosing around somewhere south of Mindanao.

"Stand by, Manila," shrilled this one. "Message for the _Persian
Gulf_." He broke off with a nimble signature.

"Good morning, little stranger," roared Peter's stridulent machine.
"You're pretty far from home. Won't you get your feet wet? The
ocean's pretty dewy this morning. Well, what do _you_ want? Shoot it,
and shoot fast. Peter Moore's at the key, and the faster you shoot
them the better Peter likes them."

The gunboat stuttered angrily.

"A message for Peter Moore, operator in charge, steamer _Persian Gulf_,
at sea. Report immediately upon arrival in Hong Kong to American
consul for orders. (Signed) B. P. Eckles, commanding officer, U. S. S.
_Buffalo_."

To which Peter composed the following pertinent reply:

"To Commander Eckles, U. S. S. _Buffalo_, somewhere south of Mindanao.
What for? (Signed) Peter Moore."

The promptness of the reply to this indicated that the recrudescence of
Peter Moore, dead or alive, was of sufficient interest to command the
presence of the gunboat's commander in the wireless house. In effect,
Peter now realized that his confession had got him into considerable
hot water.

Back came the _Buffalo's_ nervous answer: "To Peter Moore, operator in
charge, steamer _Persian Gulf_, at sea. Orders. Obey them. (Signed)
B. P. Eckles."

Peter cut out the formalities. "Please ask the commander what's the
trouble."

And out of the void cracked the retort: "He says, ask the American
consul at Hong Kong."

There seemed nothing much to do aside from attending to the accumulated
business on hand. In Hong Kong he could only decide which of the two
he would honor first, the Marconi supervisor or the American consul;
for in strange lands one falls into the custom of complying with the
requests of his countrymen.

But Peter was beginning to feel a little of the old-time thrill. It
was fine to have the fellows recognize that lightning fist of his; fine
to have their homage. For the stumbling signals of both