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WRITTEN IN RED

Kohler greeted me with a cigar and a document bearing red ideographs. At the end was a seal, in the usual Chinese fashion, but not a usual seal. To my eye it looked more like a pair of crossed compasses than anything else; it might have been a square and compass.

“Sit down, Breck,” he said. “That’s a letter of credit which will be honored for any sum by any Shansi banker in China. Stick it in your pocket and listen to me.”

I obeyed. The old-style native banks, named from the fact that every last man in them is a Shansi man, cover China like a network. I knew Kohler was hand in glove with them.

James Sze Kohler was one of the wealthiest men in China, and certainly was the most extraordinary. Only twenty-five, he was the son of a Manchu princess and an American legation guard. Enormously wealthy, he had done some curious and interesting things.

He brought me from Manila to be managing editor of his Tientsin paper, the Republican. He owned a string of papers up and down the coast, and often shifted his men from paper to paper. I had built up the Tientsin property in good shape, so when he called me over to his office in Bristow road, with the curt message that I was fired, I was not greatly concerned about it. I hoped he would send me to Shanghai.

He was alone in his office when I arrived. To all appearance, Kohler was as American as I was. We had both been through Dartmouth, except that he came out top honor man and I did not. He was slender, wide of shoulder, firm of neck, with not a sign of the Eurasian about him except a high arched eyebrow. Even his nails and eyes were clear. Perhaps Manchus are Caucasian after all—I don’t know.

His face was at first glance effeminate, as was his voice. Unless one knew him well, it was extremely hard to credit that this slim young chap controlled great financial and industrial enterprises and was rumored to have at his fingers’ ends a remarkable secret-service system which covered half China.

Kohler leaned back in his chair, took a cigar and lighted it, and surveyed me.

“George, do you believe in luck?”

“As a wild, harum-scarum goddess of chance, no,” I said. “As a combination of circumstances, yes!”

He chuckled at that.

“Combination of circumstances is right. They do combine in mighty queer ways for some people. Just now they have combined to offer you a job, Breck. I’m going to let everyone know that you’re on that job in my behalf. That means that you’ll run a risk of getting bumped off. It’s more than a risk; it’s a probability, in fact! Naturally, high risk implies high pay. If you pull it off, there’s a fee of fifty thousand, gold, and a ten-thousand-dollar job on my private staff for you.”

He was silent for a moment, studying his cigar. I said nothing.

It was characteristic of Kohler that he took for granted my acceptance of the job, and he was right. The Big Chance had come my way; the thing of which every white man in the East dreams, although not one dream in ten thousand ever comes true.

Stories were afloat, however; I knew with whom I was dealing. Blair, away over in Shensi, had pulled off a deal for Kohler and had gone home rich. Jim Hancy, down in Yunnan, owned a silver mine. Herb Moore tackled a Kweilin mountainside at the risk of his life, and operated a huge inland coal industry for Kohler. George Breck was not going to pass up a good thing because of the danger involved!

But why was he going to let everybody know that I was working for him? This was a new wrinkle. Usually, nobody knew just who was working for Kohler and who was not. That was one of the secrets of his amazing success, I believe.

“Know anything about the lacquer industry down south, in Fuchow?” he asked suddenly.

“Something. It was started a couple of years ago to buck the Japanese monopoly, a revival of the old Chinese lacquer work. I hear they went at it right, too; turned out high-grade stuff, sent a commercial traveler to America, and made a strong effort to establish lacquer as a commercial art product. Couldn’t be done, from what I hear; the cheap ten-cent-store Jap product forced ’em to slow down and quit.”

“Not altogether,” said Kohler quietly, but with a gleam in his eye. “Japanese influence in Fukien province was one thing that made ’em quit. Well, Breck, I’ve bought out the works. Inside the next year, if you don’t come a cropper, I’ll be shipping lacquer ware to America that’ll make the market sit up and take notice.

“Anybody can imitate lacquer,” he went on, “easiest thing on earth. But it can’t be duplicated. Lacquer is proof against water, time, everything except fire. And its beauty can’t be touched with any other sort of paint made, for it’s purely a vegetable substance. The whole secret lies in the way it is applied and made. Ever see anything like this?”

From a drawer of his desk he took a small, round box of plain pine wood and handed it to me. Half that box was bare wood, the other half had been lacquered. And what a glorious lacquer that was! I had never seen anything like it. A soft and glowing combination of red and gold, thick as leather, tough as leather, yet blazing with a soft splendor impossible to put into words. The patina was even finer than that of the famous old Martin work.

“A chap by the name of French was chief chemist for the Fuchow works,” said Kohler. “He developed tuberculosis. They sent him up into the mountains, with his sister. Not so long ago he sent ’em this sample. He didn’t know they had gone broke. Evidently he’s been at work up there. This is a novelty in lacquer, finer than anything known. I want you to go up there and buy the formula or the invention, whatever it is. Pay any price French asks, pay him any salary he asks to work for me.”

“All right,” I said. Kohler looked at me and smiled.

“George, watch your step! I’m sending you for two reasons. I can trust you; and you have an American’s initiative. Other people are after French, or will be after him. The Jap lacquer trust is in the ring; so is that big French mercantile concern in Yunnan and Shanghai—Dubonnet & Cie. They’ll stick at nothing.”

“Neither will I,” was my response. Kohler grinned at this.

“Good. Up to a certain point, I’ll be able to help you. There’s a China Navigation boat leaving tonight for Shanghai; catch it. A reservation is waiting for you. At Shanghai, it connects with a China Merchants boat for Fuchow. At Fuchow, go to the Brand House and one of my best men will call for you. He’ll tell you the rest.”

“How’ll I know him?” I demanded. “You can’t expect me to trust every coolie—”

Kohler smiled. “Read your Bible; read particularly the last verse of the third chapter of Second Chronicles, George; it’s interesting reading. And you’d better give the right answer when that man of mine turns up, or he may decline to trust you!”

I comprehended the system, if not the details. Kohler was trusting nothing to writing. He had arranged some password, and by picking it from the Bible was playing pretty safe. This indicated that his man was a native Christian.

“I don’t speak Chinese, you know.”

“No matter. You won’t need to.”

“Am I to travel as in your employ?”

“No. Never mention my name. I’ll let it be known that you’re working for me, because I want suspicion kept off a couple of men in Fukien province who are getting some leases on lac-producing territory. The risk is yours; that’s what I’ll be paying for.”

“Is French straight?”

“Square as a die! Bring him to the coast, if he can come. If not, bring me the secret in your head. Write nothing down. French knows me, and I think he’ll sell readily to me.”

“Shall I report here?”

Kohler shrugged. “No. You’ll be informed where I am. Need anything more?”

“No, thanks. I’ll get that boat tonight.”

He shook hands with me, and so we parted.

While I packed up and made ready that afternoon, I was doing a good deal of thinking. This job was apparently simple and open—but I knew James Sze Kohler! What was to hinder French coming to the coast? What was to hinder Kohler himself going to French? Politics aside, Kohler was the most influential man in China, could go anywhere, and did.

“Something queer about the whole thing!” I reflected. “French has a sister, too! That’s bad. We’ll have to see what happens at Fuchow.”

Before going aboard ship, I procured a Bible and looked up the section referred to.

II

I reached Shanghai and transferred to a small Merchants boat without incident. Later, I recalled with some wonder that it was very quick work; certainly no one could have come ahead of me. The coaster was waiting for us and we transferred directly to her. With me were a number of second-cabin natives.

I made the acquaintance of O’Grady and Schneider in the smoking room, and being the only whites aboard, and liking one another, we devoted the voyage to bridge. O’Grady was an Irishman, a junior consular officer in the British service, and was on furlough from his duties in Japan. Being an amateur geologist, he was going wandering in the Chinese hills, hoping to get enough material for an article in the Asiatic Review. He was a tall, lean, powerful chap, with a hard mouth and a merry twinkle in his eye—extremely capable.

Schneider was a French Jew, a commercial traveler, and smart as a whip. Highly educated, perfectly groomed, his dark oval features were handsome in the sleek French way. He, too, was bound for the interior; he was handling a line of typewriters which bore the newly adopted Chinese alphabet-system, and had sold dozens of them along the coast.

I was, of course, a mere American tourist on vacation, trying to see the sights.

It was morning when we entered the Min-kiang and bore up for Pagoda Anchorage, where we would be transferred into steam-launches and sent on to the city. I was standing up forward, alone, watching the river traffic, when Captain Sung Men came down from the bridge. He greeted me cheerfully, then approached.

“Mr. Breck, will you pardon one word of advice?”

I regarded him in some surprise, and smiled.

“Advice, captain? Why, sure! Trouble with the customs ahead?”

He shook his head. “No, you’ll be landed at the foreign settlement pier. This gentleman with whom you have been very friendly, this M. Schneider! Perhaps he did not inform you that he is one of the best agents of the Dubonnet company?”

The words, and their import, startled me inexpressibly. While I knew there was practically no limit to the extent of Kohler’s underground activity, I was none the less astonished. So, then, Schneider was an enemy! Undoubtedly, he was also bound for my yet unknown destination in the hills. But this warning, from such a source, was amazing.

“You think that he knows—”

“That you are no tourist? Undoubtedly.” Captain Sung Men smiled slightly. Then he made a little gesture, as though in caution, and spoke more loudly. “Yes, a beautiful sight, Mr. Breck! The Anchorage is just ahead, and I would advise that you have your things packed. I believe the launches will be awaiting us.”

He departed. I turned, to see O’Grady sauntering toward us, whistling cheerfully.

“Packed up?” he asked. I nodded.

“Yea. You’re going to the Brand House, I suppose?”

“Only one here, they tell me.” He lighted a cigarette and proffered me one. “See here, Breck! What say we combine outfits? I’m going nowhere in particular, and neither are you. Two can live more cheaply than one, at least in China, what? We can strike up into the hills and have a bit of company, if you say the word.”

I was not surprised at the proposal, for O’Grady had hinted at such a course during breakfast. And I was very glad of it. He was a splendid chap, good company and all that, and I was glad to have a white companion of his caliber. None the less, in justice to him, I could jump at nothing.

“Fine,” I said cautiously, “but it’s only fair to tell you, O’Grady, that I have some enemies among the natives, and I’ve been tipped off that this trip might be risky.”

He flicked the ash from his cigarette, and his eyes danced as they met mine.

“Righto, Breck! Look out for this chap Schneider. He was soundin’ me out about you last night. Then it’s settled?”

“Suppose we settle it tonight at the Brand House,” I said. “I’m expecting letters there, and there’s just a possibility that my plans may be changed.”

He nodded. “Then we’ll let it drop until dinner, what? Hullo, here’s Schneider now! The top o’ the mornin’ to you, and many of the same!” Schneider joined us with his smoothly affable greeting, and we chatted until the hook was dropped and the launches came alongside.

I had little to say on the nine-mile ride upriver. This steamer captain had known me for an agent of Kohler; therefore Kohler must have sent out word concerning me to his entire organization. Schneider, too, knew me for what I was; therefore I could expect trouble ahead. This polished, affable Frenchman was capable of much. It was decent of O’Grady to tip me off regarding his own suspicions, yet to ask no questions!

We were landed at the Hwang-sung wharf. There were no ’rickshaws or carriages, nothing but filthy native chairs in sight, but as we glanced around, two chairs approached, sent by the hotel. We climbed into these and were carried to the next street and up to the hotel, while from across the river the great roar of the huge native city came to us like the hum of a beehive.

The afternoon was free. Neither O’Grady nor I had ever been here before, so we took chairs from the hotel and saw the sights on this side the river. The strong hand of the Japanese was much in evidence, for their influence controlled a great share of all Fukien province; it had been felt, indeed, even before our ship anchored off the white houses and the pagoda.

Upon returning to the hotel, I left O’Grady and went to my room. I had barely gotten ready to bathe and dress for dinner, when there came a knock at the door. I opened to see a coolie standing outside, and admitted him.

“You’re looking for me?” I asked. He responded in excellent English, with hardly a trace of accent.

“If you are Mr. George Breck.”

“I am.”

“Then,” and he peered up at me from under the rim of his wide hat, “you know the names of two pillars which were erected by a certain king of Israel?”

As I thought—Kohler’s man!

“One was Jachin,” I said. “The other, Boaz.”

He promptly squatted down before me.

“Good. You will trust yourself in my hands?”

I nodded assent to this, as a matter of course. He was to all appearances an ordinary coolie, but his features were good, although blurred by a half sprouted mustache and the beginnings of a beard. He was quite dark in hue, muscular and energetic, evidently intelligent. A good type of mission-trained coolie, I thought.

“In that case,” he responded, “you must leave here within an hour.”

“What!” I gathered the bath-towel around me and protested. “Impossible!”

“Then you will be sorry. The Japanese have already requested the American consul here to have you detained tonight, on a charge of smuggling opium. That is amusing, since the Japs themselves bring it in openly, but it is also dangerous.”

I thought quickly. Kohler had warned me against the Japs; and I might have known that they would strike secretly and swiftly. It was folly to stand on my dignity.

“Very well,” I said. “What’s your name?”

“Yu.”

“I’ll go, Yu. Suppose you tell me how and where.”

“In an hour I will have a chair at the door for you. Take it openly and you will be brought to the dock. There a launch belonging to my master will be waiting. We go straight upriver for a hundred miles. Then we leave the launch at a place where men and mules await us. We go thirty miles into the hills, to the town of Kiuling in the Mong-yu range. There may be danger all the way, for your friend Schneider has already gone on upriver, and the Japs may also be watching.”

I regarded the fellow in some amazement.

“Whew! You seem to know everything there is to know. Yu! Suppose you go to room twelve and ask Mr. O’Grady to step here at once. He may like to go with us.”

Without the questions or protests that I half anticipated, Yu rose and departed. I made a quick tub, and was half dressed and shaving when O’Grady came into the room, with Yu at his heels.

“Hello!” I said. “Sorry I wasn’t in shape to go to your room, O’Grady. See here, I’m off in an hour’s time, upriver. This chap Yu brought me warning that I was likely to get into trouble unless I beat it in a hurry. Want to go along?”

“Of course,” drawled O’Grady, with a grin of delight. “I love trouble, old chap! Where do we go?”

“A hundred miles up the river, then into the hills. A launch is waiting for us. Can you make it?”

“Righto!” The Irishman made no inquiries as to the nature of my “trouble,” which I thought very white of him. “I’ll meet you downstairs, what? In forty minutes.”

He departed. I turned to Yu.

“What about dinner? What about—everything?”

“Leave everything to me, master,” said this marvel of a servant. “Two chairs will come for you, in my charge. Dinner will be served aboard the launch. You have a pistol?”

“No,” I said.

“Here is one.” He handed me an automatic, with a heavy little packet in which were extra clips, loaded. “Say nothing to the hotel people about departing; that will be attended to later. I will bring a porter to take charge of your bags.”

He was at the door, when I checked him.

“See here, Yu! If this chap Schneider has gone ahead of us, why haven’t you taken some measures to detain him?”

“I have,” he answered, and was gone.

It seemed to me that Kohler had some admirable servants.

The more I thought about it, the more convinced I became that Yu was more than an ordinary coolie. His intelligence and education afforded evidence of it. When I encountered O’Grady downstairs, the Irishman surveyed me with a humorous twinkle in his eye.

“That number one boy of yours is an efficient beggar, eh?”

I nodded. “He’s a loan from a friend. By the way, I should tell you that I’m not a fugitive from justice, as you might think me; my enemies are purely commercial ones.”

He waved his hand and laughed.

“Devil take it, have I asked ye any questions? I like the cut of your jib, Breck, and that’s enough for me. I’m out for a holiday, and damn regulations! I fancy you have business of your own upriver, eh? Good! I’m glad to go along, and the more heads to hit, the better! And, me lad, if our friend Schneider is one o’ them makin’ trouble for you, just you give me first crack at him, mind! I’ve an idea that he’s a sly puss.”

His delight in the situation relieved me, although I was slightly puzzled by his indubitable fervency in speaking of Schneider as he did. I had feared that my talk of enemies might seem theatrical and absurd; but I had forgotten that I was dealing with an Irishman, who would delight in theatricals and to whom nothing could be absurd.

Yu appeared with two chairs, and we got off without incident. Darkness was falling, and our bearers took us directly to the wharf from which we had come that noon. Seen thus, Fuchow was a magnificent sight—the two bridges dotted with lanterns, the huge out-strung city across the river glimmering and quivering with lights to the hills far beyond, and the Nangtai district all ablaze with electric lights up the hillsides.

We found the wharves, at this hour, almost deserted. A few porters loafed about, but our launch was the only craft at the landing stage. The tide was in and she floated high, a long, narrow, steam-launch of light draft, but large and comfortable.

As we got out of the chairs, Yu stepped forward to confer with one of his men at the head of the stairs. At this instant I caught a low cry from O’Grady.

“Ware, Breck; ’ware the knife!”

I turned, to find a man plunging at me, and the wharf lights glimmered on steel. I leaped aside and tripped him; O’Grady hurled himself forward, grappled with the man, and then the two figures suddenly parted. The fellow went flying through the air, and went into the water with a huge splash.

“Over the hip!” panted O’Grady exultantly. “Well thrown, what? Want to land the chap, Breck?”

“Let him go,” came the soft voice of Yu. “Let him go. There will be a commotion, and we cannot waste time.”

Indeed, yells and shouts were already going up from the loafers. I lost no time, but got aboard the launch, with O’Grady laughing behind me. Our bags were passed down, the engines purred into life, and a moment afterward we were heading upstream under the bridge.

Who the assassin was, I did not know or care. The attempt proved, however, that somebody had been keeping an eye on our friend Yu.

III

Our launch had the air of a tiny yacht rather than a river boat, with its after awning, and gleaming brasses, and speedy power. There was a sleeping cabin with two bunks; the crew consisted of two men and a steward, who took their orders from Yu. As soon as we were away from the city, dinner was served to me and O’Grady on the after deck. We were going upriver at slow speed. The dinner was remarkable in its variety and excellence.

“Faith, your friends do you well, old chap!” affirmed the Irishman. “This craft is a wonder; a lippin’ dinner, too! I had no idea China was like this. Haven’t tasted such Sauterne in ages.”

His comments were excusable, and we did full justice to the dinner.

Afterward, with cigars alight, we stretched out in the long Singapore chairs and watched the shores drift past. There was a glorious full moon, and we were alone on the river, for night travel is not popular; indeed, I wondered that our crew would consent to keep going, since the water-devils are greatly to be feared, and we had indulged in no firecrackers or gong-beatings. Our helmsman appeared to know the waters intimately.

I had long since learned, however, that James Sze Kohler and the men who served him were in a class by themselves.

Yu had vanished forward. O’Grady and I had the after-deck to ourselves, and we chatted freely. I gathered from what O’Grady said that he had been something of a rover; now and again there was a disquieting hint in his words or voice—a hint of ruthless efficiency, of reckless immorality. That was in keeping, of course; he was the sort of man who laughs at odds, who indulges in any perilous enterprise with a whole-hearted impulse, and who dies with a jest on his lips. One could not help liking O’Grady. He was the type that young men admire and imitate—vainly.

Upon thinking it over later, I realized that he had said nothing definite about himself.

We turned in, at length, and as we undressed I observed two things. O’Grady wore a pistol slung in a neat armpit holster; and, tightly about his neck, a little pouch. To this latter I paid slight heed at the moment, thinking naturally that he was wearing a scapulary.

I was asleep in no time, taking the upper bunk. When I awakened, it was one o’clock; on the wall hung my illuminated watch pointing the hour. I wondered what had wakened me, then was aware of a subdued movement in the cabin. As I turned, the berth-springs squeaked abominably. The cabin door slammed; when I switched on the light, I was alone, save for the snoring figure of O’Grady.

Slipping into trousers and shoes, I doused the light and opened the door. As I did so, a vibrant, excited voice sang out on deck, followed almost instantly by a shot from some little distance, to judge by the sound. I caught my coat from the hook near the door, dragged out my pistol, and started for the deck. I heard O’Grady hit the floor with both feet as I had departed, but paused not for him.

The vibration of the boat, which suddenly increased, told me that full speed was being made.

I crawled out on deck, just in time to come foul of several struggling men. One of them broke free, went over the rail, and struck with a splash. His head came up into the moonlight. Rising, I caught sight of Yu standing at the rail, pistol in hand, and called to him; he shot while I was calling, and to the report, the swimming man vanished.

Glancing around, I saw that the steward and crew were in sight. Yu turned to me and smiled thinly under his stubble of beard.

“A Jap,” he said briefly. “Stowaway,”

“Then he was the fellow in the cabin! I heard him and woke up—”

“Boarders away!” sang out the voice of O’Grady, behind me. “What’s up?”

For answer, Yu lifted his arm and pointed. Then I saw what until now I had overlooked in the swiftness of things.

We were in midstream, shooting rapidly through the water, which lay like a wide silvern flood in the light of the high moon. Two hundred yards to our right, heading as though to meet us at a convergent angle, was another craft—a gasoline launch, to judge from the sound of her exhaust. From either bow was thrown up and back a curving wave of water, which indicated her speed, half hiding her from view.

While we stared, a flash leaped out amidships of her, and I caught the whine of a bullet close overhead. O’Grady ducked, then laughed.

“More o’ your pleasant friends, Breck? Faith, we’re not goin’ to be lonely, at all events. Who is she, or what?”

I repeated the question to Yu. He snapped an order at the steward, who vanished, then turned to me with a warning gesture.

“A police boat, bribed by Schneider to halt us, and she has the speed of us. Fortunately, I know these boats very well; I think I can stop her. Will you gentlemen kindly lie down? I believe they will shoot again.”

At another order from him, the speed of the launch slowed a bit, and Yu stretched out on the afterdeck. The steward appeared and put a rifle into his hand. A moment later, he fired. To the crack, O’Grady caught my arm excitedly as we crouched.

“Breck, ’pon my word, the beggar’s usin’ explosive bullets! If he hits her petrol tank, what price we’re hung for piracy?”

“You never heard of a newspaper man getting hung for anything,” I said.

“Oh!” and he chuckled at that, “But I’m no journalist, me lad; I’m an Irishman. And ye never heard of an Irishman bein’ drowned that was born to be hung! But I’m with ye, hanging or no hanging. Wish that boy o’ yours ’ud give me a try with that rifle!”

Indeed, Yu had taken two shots, seemingly without result. I left O’Grady, and crawled aft behind Yu, and perceived that he was aiming at the very bow of the other craft. He no doubt knew that her gasoline tank was there.

Meantime, bullets were driving about us, and now there came a tremendous bang, and a one-pounder shell screeched overhead. If that police craft had carried a machine gun instead of one designed to sink pirates, we could not have lasted. She was converging every moment, and now was not a hundred yards distant.

Then Yu fired for the third time.

I saw him lay down the rifle and come up, squatting. Then a red sheet of flame leaped from the water, and we reeled under the blast of the concussion. When the following blackness passed, I saw Yu still squatting there, and we were still heading upstream. I leaped up.

“Head back and pick ’em up!” I shouted to the helmsman in the stern.

He made no motion to obey. O’Grady joined me, with a shout, and then we found Yu suddenly erect before us, hand outstretched.

“Master,” he said, “men who take bribes deserve what happens. Besides, you are in my charge. Until you are set ashore, my orders are obeyed, not yours. Then I serve you without protest, with perfect obedience! But meantime, leave things to me.”

To protests, oaths, orders, he was absolutely impervious; so were his men. Except by actual force, we could do nothing. When we realized this, we were a mile distant from the scene of the fight, and the police boat must have gone down like a shot. At length O’Grady laughed and turned away.

“Never mind, Breck, when in Rome, do as the Romans do! Let the boy run the show; faith, he’s made a good job of it so far! I say, Yu, when are we to be landed?”

“At this time tomorrow night, sir,” returned Yu, “you will be ashore and on your way up-country. As you will travel all night, I respectfully suggest that you sleep as much as possible all day.”

“Do you expect any more such trouble as we’ve just had?” I asked.

“Yes, master.” Yu nodded thoughtfully. “We change crews at ten in the morning, when we reach a place this side of Nanfu. We shall have trouble getting past that town, but the new crew will probably bring some warning.”

I stared at him in stark amazement. “What system do you use? Wireless?” This was probably a shrewd guess, but Yu merely looked blank and refused to explain. As a matter of fact, I believe that Kohler did have a private wireless system of his own that covered a large portion of China.

O’Grady and I went back to sleep. What the Irishman thought about all this, was uncertain; yet he certainly enjoyed himself hugely. Nor did I care particularly what he thought. It was enough that he was a good comrade, and one to depend upon, as he had proven there at the Fuchow landing-stairs. It seemed to me that the mystery surrounding this adventure spiced it for him, and because of this he asked no questions.

Something went wrong with the engines, I believe, and we were an hour late at Nanfu. About two miles this side of the town, we slipped in to the shore, entered what appeared to be a canal mouth, and a moment later were floating in a hidden anchorage surrounded by trees. Here lay a wharf, a godown from which men were bringing fuel, a house sitting back from the water, long boathouses, and a small dry-dock; all of them quite invisible from the river. As we slid up to the landing, Yu approached the astonished pair of us.

“We shall be here twenty minutes, master,” he told me. “If you care to visit the guesthouse yonder, you will find luncheon ready. If not, you may care to stroll along the shore.”

“Is this a private estate?” I asked him, careful not to mention Kohler’s name before O’Grady. He grinned at that.

“Yes, master.”

O’Grady asked no questions, but he looked unwontedly thoughtful as we docked.

Now, how it was managed I don’t know, for I am certain there was no wireless aboard the launch. Perhaps it was prevision on the part of Kohler. At all events, we had no sooner lined up than a coolie presented himself at the wharf with an envelope, which he handed to me. I opened it with a word of apology to O’Grady, and found a curt note addressed to me and signed by Kohler. It read:

Yu is in charge until you leave the launch. Then everything is in your hands. Do not interfere with him or with what he does. Luck to you!

I tore up the message and went up to the guesthouse with O’Grady. There we found deft servants, an excellent luncheon, and some English magazines that were given us to take along.

Much as I knew of Kohler, this place was a revelation to me. The very significance of such a place was astounding. Certainly, the Japs knew nothing of it, although their strong influence permeated all Fukien province. They might have been watching the launch and Yu, might even have got their spy aboard her, and doubtless Kohler himself was surrounded by spies; but here they could not reach. Indeed, O’Grady and I saw several armed men at various points, and from the veranda of the bungalow I rather fancied that I discerned a line of barbed-wire forking out amid the trees, but was not certain.

When Yu summoned us to the launch, aboard which was a new and augmented crew of five men, he squatted down before us and spoke frankly, addressing me but speaking to O’Grady as well.

“Master, we shall have trouble passing Nanfu. Schneider is three hours ahead of us. Fifteen miles the other side of Nanfu, he will fall into a trap that I have set for him, but he has also set snares for us. The influence of Dubonnet & Cie. is very strong here. I suggest that you gentlemen separate and take different boats here.”

At this, O’Grady started slightly, and eyed Yu. Despite the message I had received, I shook my head.

“I don’t think that’s necessary, Yu. Let’s go ahead.”

“Very well, master.” Yu rose. “We will not go aboard the same launch, but another, to which your things have been transferred.”

There was no getting around this fellow. He led us to the landing slip, toward which another craft was being fetched from a boathouse. Meantime, our first launch got under way. I noticed that beneath the after awning two of the crew were sitting; they wore whites and helmets, and might easily pass at a distance for me and O’Grady.

“Clever head,” murmured the Irishman. “Decoy, eh? It’s a smart lad he is, that chap Yu!”

We got aboard the second launch, which was a replica of the first in every respect, and in five minutes were heading out into the river. Then, at Yu’s suggestion, O’Grady and I went below. Before we went, however, we saw the first launch, well ahead of us, go toward the other side of the river, while upon her converged several craft that had been lying in wait, apparently.

Of Nanfu or what happened to the other launch, we saw nothing; the small cabin ports gave us no view at all, being obscured by waves most of the time.

When Yu at length summoned us above, the river was empty save for a couple of salt junks, and we settled down beneath the after-awning with a cold drink apiece. Before that drink had disappeared, we rounded a sweeping curve of the river and came into sight of our old friend Schneider.

A big launch was laid up, well heeled over, too, in some bad white-water to the left. We headed over that way and ran to within a hundred feet of her, the engines slowing down. Schneider, who had been waving for help, recognized us and desisted; he stood staring, in furious dismay and consternation.

“Nice day, old chap!” shouted O’Grady, lifting his glass. “Top o’ the mornin’ to ye!”

Yu, standing beside us, chuckled. Schneider shook his fist and shouted something that was lost on the wind. Later, I was to regret not having listened to his words.

“Sorry we can’t stop,” I shouted, for we were upwind. “Take your time, Schneider! No hurry at all, so far as you’re concerned.”

He shouted something else that was lost, although O’Grady’s name reached us, and shook his fist again. Then we were past and churning upriver once more, and I judged that we had left all enemies behind us.

Late that afternoon we landed, found mules and a complete camping-equipment waiting for us, and started into the mountains.

IV

When darkness fell that night, with the promise of the full moon ahead, we were toiling along a narrow and winding mountain road, which was no more than a trail. I thought in my folly that all our troubles were past, little reckoning what country we were in, and little knowing what this thirty miles of mountain road was to bring.

I was now definitely in command. Our six mafus had come from farther up the river, with their mules, to meet us, and knew nothing about our business; they were faithful men, however, armed with rifles. Two of them knew the way to Kiuling and served as guides. Yu was of course with us, also the steward from the launch, who acted as cook. There was a small tent for O’Grady and me, but little other baggage.

We expected to reach Kiuling sometime the following night, depending of course on the moon to light our way. Also, the roads would be deserted after dark, since tigers were plentiful in the district. Hearing this, O’Grady joyfully demanded a rifle, which was provided, and took the lead with one of the guides.

The trail was nothing short of vile, and I marveled that French should have come to such a place as Kiuling. Nowhere was there any road that a horse could have managed; we continually wound along steep, rocky hillsides, circling valleys which were pits of blackness in the moonlight, crossing swaying bamboo suspension bridges one at a time. The path wound about and meandered insanely, for there were no towns between us and Kiuling; but a straight trail would of course be open to devils, and so we curved.

A little after midnight, clouds which had gradually swept up the sky overspread the moon. Yu, just behind me, sniffed the air uneasily.

“Rain,” he commented. I shrugged and dismissed the prophecy.

The mafus wanted to stop with the darkness, but I ordered them to keep going for three hours, then halt for hot tea and food. We went on, O’Grady still in the lead, and after a bit, at a wide spot, I came up and fell in beside him. Then the trail narrowed and we had to go single file again.

It was no easy matter riding along that path in the darkness. We had to trust solely to the mules and the guide. Now we would be skirting some narrow ledge above a precipice, and again the trail would zigzag up a hillside of loose shale and talus. Yet, by a miracle, we kept forging ahead.

It was two o’clock—I had just glanced at my watch. We were scrambling up one of those cursed slopes, with a long treeless fall of rock below us, when my mule lost his footing. His hind legs went over the edge, and he scrambled there for a moment, snorting wildly. I had absolutely no warning, could not get out of the saddle; I could feel the poor beast slipping backward, his fore hooves hanging to the rock.

Then O’Grady’s voice was in my ear. “Steady does it, me lad. Now, then, up with ye!”

He was out of his saddle, standing there before me, hauling the mule back by sheer strength. An instant later, with a laugh, he was gone to his own beast once more, leaving me more shaken than I cared to confess.

This was the second time O’Grady had saved my life.

It was bitter cold that night. At three o’clock, coming to a fairly wide stretch of road between trees, I ordered a halt until dawn. The weather looked more like snow than rain to me, but so far there was no sign of either, save the heavy clouds.

Within ten minutes we had roaring fires going, for the uneasiness of the mules showed that tiger were nearby; besides, if we had beaten our opponents this far, we would certainly beat them into Kittling, and there was no object in freezing to death from too much precaution.

As we were about to open the packs, O’Grady sauntered up to the fire with a package.

“Here’s some first-chop tea for all hands,” he said, “as a contribution. Bought it in Fuchow; remember, Breck?”

I nodded, smiling at thought of how we had seen the sights that afternoon. I recalled that the Irishman had insisted on buying some extra fine tea, which he had never had an opportunity to sample.

The men welcomed his gift eagerly, for it was a package of the finest and most expensive tea produced. Yu, at the moment, was getting our tent erected; leaving the cook and men at the fire, we stepped over to the tent and with Yu’s help got our things opened up and blankets out.

O’Grady got an electric torch out of his kit, stepped outside, and flashed the light at the trees several times. I thought nothing of it, except to caution him against using up his battery. He came back to me, laughing to himself, and I wondered why he seemed so amused. I was too busy shaving to ask any questions, however, and he joined me over the pot of hot water.

By the time we had shaved and dismissed Yu, some food and a couple of bowls of hot tea were waiting for us. The tent was none too large a dining room, but afforded us a shelter from the bitter wind that was coming up and bringing rain with it. Our men, already eating, were grouped about the fire twenty paces distant.

“I wouldn’t touch that tea just yet,” said O’Grady, giving me a singular look.

“Why not?”

“Wait and see. Here, have a bit o’ this marmalade. It’s real Dundee, me lad! Upon my word, I believe it’ll be raining in another half hour, what?”

“The rain is beginning now, I think. Pleasant trip tomorrow.”

Indeed, a few drops of rain spattered on the tent. A moment later I reached out for the tea-bowl, then recollected O’Grady’s singular prohibition.

“Say’ what’s the idea about the tea? Too hot?”

A thin smile curved O’Grady’s lips. He was a handsome beggar, in his own way; yet there was a peculiar quality in his eye, as he looked at me, that I could not comprehend. He half turned on his stool, raised a hand toward me in restraint, and took out his pistol. He was now gazing out at the campfire.

“What is it?” I queried. “Tiger?”

He gave me a quizzical glance.

“Faith, a dev’lish tiger and no mistake, me lad! Hold on a minute now, will ye? And be handin’ me that electric torch, like a good chap.”

Mystified by his manner and actions, I handed him the torch. He flashed it toward the tent opening, then thrust his hand outside and flashed it again. Then, putting the torch into his coat pocket, he leaned forward and beckoned me to join him.

Crowding around the makeshift table, I crouched beside him and peered out. For a moment I could see nothing unusual; then I perceived that our muleteers, grouped about the fire, were motionless. I could not sense what was wrong until, from the edge of the firelight, half a dozen figures came running in from all sides. Then it burst upon me—every last one of our men was drugged! Not a man stirred.

Neither did I, for the best of reasons.

“Keep quiet, now!” O’Grady’s voice had an edge of steel to it. He shoved his pistol into my ribs, and took my own weapon.

“Not a move out of you, me lad! It was the tea that did it, as ye might know; and be thankin’ me that I was too much of a white man to be druggin’ you with it.”

I was paralyzed, as much by sheer astounded incredulity as by the pistol, for I did not yet understand what was going on. Two figures appeared suddenly before us, O’Grady said something to them, and they calmly took hold of me. Before I could so much as struggle, my hands were bound, so were my ankles, and a gag thrust between my teeth.

“Set him down again,” said O’Grady. “Go and see that all the rifles of these men are disposed of.”

The two who had bound me were Japs.

O’Grady took out his pipe, filled and lighted it, and surveyed me. I thought that there was a regretful expression in his eye, as he sighed and shook his head.

“Damn it, Breck, I like ye fine, and it goes against the grain to do ye in! But necessity knows no law. If I take out the gag, may I have your word not to be cursin’ me or makin’ any rumpus?”

I nodded. He leaned forward and promptly removed the gag, much to my relief.

“Thanks. What’s it all about, now?”

“Business,” he said laconically. “You and I and Schneider are all in the same boat, and trying to hook the same fish; but I’m no murderer. I made use of ye to get through the Frenchman’s lines, had my own men workin’ and waitin’ for me, and now I’m goin’ on to Kiuling and see French. That’s all, me lad.”

“Who are you working for, then?” I demanded. “Japs?”

“I’m workin’ for five thousand pound,” he said, a little wearily.

“I’ll give you five thousand, then, to side with me,” I said.

He stared at me, compressed his lips, then shook his head.

“Sorry, but I’ve a queer notion about honor, Breck. Sorry, for a fact.”

The odd part of it all was that he really was sorry, too!

And, as I sat there watching him I felt only pity for the man; there was no anger in me. This queer fish, this likeable, irresponsible, whimsical O’Grady, had tricked and befooled and ensnared me, yet I had not a word of anger for his betrayal. I could see that he was not proud of himself. He had his own little hell inside of his soul.

Undoubtedly, he had lied from the start.

He was nothing but an adventurer, a man who had sold his services for a round sum; and that the Japs had entrusted their business to him spoke volumes for his character and ability.

“I wasn’t back o’ that assassin at Fu-chow,” he said suddenly. “I’d like ye to know that. I’m supposed to be in full charge; if my employers want to put a knife into you, then I’ll stop it if I can. And after this, Breck, we’re quits.”

“Fair enough,” I told him. “You and your Japs will stop lead, O’Grady, if I get the chance. You haven’t won yet. French won’t sell out to you.”

He nodded, and chuckled.

“Yes, he will, too! He thinks Kohler’s gone back on him or forgotten him. He’s hard up and sick to boot. Don’t worry, me lad! Now, I’ll have to take a look at your papers—merely for the sake of information. Also, to destroy any that might be of use to you.”

I had no papers, as he very soon ascertained, with the exception of Kohler’s order on any Shansi bankers. He looked at it curiously, inspected the seal with a whistle of surprise, and asked what the paper was. I told him. He replaced it in my pocket.

“I’m robbin’ no man, Breck. Now, I’ll have to leave ye tied up until your men waken. It’ll be only a matter of a few hours, d’ye see. That drugged tea was an excellent notion, what? Rippin’, I call it! I’ll beat you into Kiuling and sign up with French. And what then? Will you make trouble when you come along?”

I met his level gaze with a smile.

“My dear O’Grady, I’ll make you trouble until you reach Fuchow again!”

“I have five men,” he reminded me. “All Japs, and smart. And you’ll have no guns.”

“Look for trouble when I see you again,” was my rejoinder. He laughed and clapped me on the shoulder.

“Good for ye, me lad! We’ll have a grand fight for it yet, praise be! Now I must be off. The rain is still spatterin’ gently, but it may break into a storm any time and that means bad roads.”

He was rising, when one of his Japs came excitedly to the tent opening with a rush of eager words. O’Grady seemed to understand the language perfectly. He swore under his breath, gave the Jap a curt, peremptory order, then whirled and seized the gag again.

“Sorry, old fellow,” he said, as he slipped it in place. “But something’s up—”

At the same instant, a hail lifted to us from the darkness.

“Hello the camp! Anybody there speak English?”

It was a woman’s voice.

V

O’Grady darted out of the tent. From where I sat I could see all that passed, for a figure mounted on mule back rode into the circle of firelight and halted not ten feet from the tent. The Japs clustered in the background, staring.

“Faith, ma’am, it’s a poor welcome we have here for ye,” sang out O’Grady, “but it’s better than none at all! I don’t suppose, by any chance, you’re Miss Janet French, now?”

“Yes, I’m Miss French.”

O’Grady introduced himself, as he assisted the visitor to dismount. I could see that he was considerably disconcerted by the encounter; and no wonder! The girl was absolutely alone, too.

“How did you know me?” demanded the girl, regarding him.

“I’m on me way now to see your brother, ma’am.”

“You’ve come from Mr. Kohler?” Her voice was eager, swift with strain.

“Not a bit of it,” was his cool response. “I’m representin’ a group o’ Japanese interests, Miss Janet; but come inside, for the rain will be comin’ down soon! I’ll have some food and hot tea for ye in no time at all.” He concluded with a sharp snap of orders to his men, who hastened to obey.

A lantern hung from the tent roof. Miss French came inside, then stopped dead at sight of me, O’Grady was at her elbow. He spoke apologetically.

“It’s a sorry man I am, Miss Janet, to be havin’ you for a guest here and with things the way they are! This is not my camp, d’ye mind; I only reached here a short bit ago. This poor chap was ravin’, stark, starin’ mad! He’d held a regular opium debauch, it seems. All his muleteers are dead to the world; think o’ the amount of opium they must have used! We got him tied up and he’s quieted down a bit, poor lad! We had just finished destroyin’ all the opium and layouts in sight when you dropped in on us.”

As he rattled forth this astounding tale, O’Grady tipped me a cheerful wink over the girl’s shoulder.

She believed the story, of course; why not? I could read belief in the sad, troubled gaze of her as she watched me. A wide-eyed girl she was, all brown and slender and sweet in her fur-trimmed corduroys; a quiet poise in her face took hold of me strongly, and I hardly noted the depth to her eyes nor the gold-red of her massed hair, for I was absorbed and fascinated by her face as a whole. It was not beautiful, but it had power.

Then I began to struggle with my bonds, furious at that story of O’Grady’s, but could make only a growling noise in my throat.

“Don’t be afraid of him,” said O’Grady, and chuckled. “Faith, it’s a strong tongue he has on him, but no matter now! We can crowd in a bit beyond. And what in the name of all that’s holy fetched you here alone? Haven’t you any servants?”

Miss Janet sat down, but still looked at me.

“He hasn’t the opium pallor,” she observed, then turned. “Oh! Why, I had two mafus, but a tiger crossed the road just ahead of us, an hour ago, and I think they ran away. The poor fellows were terribly afraid. We left Kiuling at noon yesterday, in a great hurry—tell me, Mr. O’Grady, are you a doctor?”

The Irishman’s features, finely ascetic of eye and nostril, contracted slightly.

“No,” he said, almost curtly. “I studied surgery—once. But I know nothing at all about medicine.”

“Oh, good!” exclaimed the girl eagerly. “You see, my brother, Art, was kicked by a mule yesterday morning. We think his shoulder-blade is broken, but we’re not sure, and the native doctor there is a frightful charlatan, and I don’t know the first thing about setting bones. We’ll have to go right back, now!”

She leaped to her feet. O’Grady, giving me one expressive glance, smiled and held up a restraining hand. At the tent opening appeared one of his Japs, bearing some tea and food hastily contrived from the preparations of my mafus.

“I’m your man, if it’s a case o’ bone-setting,” he declared. “But first, we’ll all have a bit and a sup. You’ve been on the go since noon, and I’ve been climbing these dev’lish hill trails since late in the afternoon. You really should have some rest now—”

She smiled and dissented quickly, although she seated herself and took the food gladly.

“No! If you’ll go, we’ll start right away.” Her eyes went to me, frowningly. “But should we leave this poor man here? He’s a white man—”

“Don’t worry,” said O’Grady dryly, flashing me a slight smile. “His men will take care of him right enough. When the rain bursts, it’ll wake the beggars up.”

I had been inwardly hoping for the same result, but by his mention of it I realized that the hope was vain; that package of tea must have been doped strongly.

O’Grady looked extremely complacent, as he well might. The luck was playing all into his hands, and he was quite capable of keeping it under control. Then Miss French, who seemed rather concerned about me, suggested another possibility the mention of which really caused me an abrupt uneasiness.

“But, Mr. O’Grady! If these men are left like this, what about the danger from tigers? They are not at all uncommon hereabouts, you know! We really should leave this whole camp guarded.”

O’Grady was himself disturbed by the suggestion, as I perceived, but he shrugged.

“Don’t alarm yourself, clear lady! We’ll leave a big fire blazin’, and the dawn will soon be here. Besides, tigers don’t hunt in a storm, as you very well know.”

It was evident that she did not know it at all, and neither did O’Grady, but his plausibility checked her protests. Naturally, he wanted to keep all of his five Japs with him. He knew that he would have only a few hours’ start on me, and counted on getting his work done before I reached Kituling. After that, being unarmed, I would have little chance to undo his work by main force. And, if French sold him the formula, only force would avail me.

Calling up his men, O’Grady issued orders. We had about a dozen mules, since I had been taking supplies and things up to the Frenches. Seven of these were made ready, and when he had wrapped Miss Janet in a blanket as protection against the rain, O’Grady took her out to her mule.

He came back in a moment and leaned over me.

“Breck, you’ll have to chance tiger, though I fancy that fire will hold off any wanderin’ stripes until dawn. Sorry to blacken your character, old chap, but needs must when the divil drives! Ta-ta. I hope Schneider won’t catch up with ye before your men wake up.”

Schneider! That was a new worry. I had thought Schneider in the discard, but evidently O’Grady thought otherwise.

He left me, sang out a cheery order to his men, and the whole train of them vanished into the darkness. The wind was beginning to whistle now, and the raindrops pattered more thickly on the tent.

Having already convinced myself thoroughly that any exertion toward loosening my bonds would be only futile and wasted effort, I sat quietly and set myself to wait for the dawn, which could not be more than an hour or so away. The lantern was high and out of reach, even had I been inclined to burn my bonds, which I was not; they were leather thongs, and I was certainly no Scaevola. So I sat staring out at the flickering light of the fire, and the obscure, motionless figures about it.

How the luck had played against me! I cherished no particular resentment against O’Grady for his use of me and his betrayal of me; all that, in a way, was part of the game, as I could now see. He had been very clever, and I had been an ass; although I could scarce have been expected to suspect a man of his type being in Japanese hire. I wondered what James Sze Kohler would say about it when he heard the story.

The element of luck, however, had broken against me when Janet French came on the scene. Had she come five minutes earlier, O’Grady’s fine little scheme might have been disarranged entirely. As it was, everything now lay plainly ahead of him—clear sailing!

Her words showed that French had been hoping for some messenger from Kohler.

“Probably the Japs have been watching the mail through their own postal service here,” I reflected. “Any letters that French had sent out, were probably held up and destroyed. It looks to me as though Kohler had for once slipped up rather badly. Even if I get through to Kiuling by some miracle, I haven’t a single thing to back up my word! How will French know that I come from Kohler? Damn it!”

Everything fitted in very nicely for that confounded Irishman. He would get to Kiuling and would promptly take care of French’s injuries, and would as promptly buy the lac secret from the grateful man. But was that formula all of it? I began to doubt. Even as a trade secret, it was not a big enough thing to justify all the expenditure of money and effort that was being put forth in three quarters.

One good thing, O’Grady was straight. If it had been Schneider, now, I might have been worried; the Dubonnet agent would have used Miss Janet to force the secret out of French, or some such trick. I was thankful that, if I had to be beaten, the licking would come from a man like O’Grady. I was not through with him, either; after leaving Kiuling, he had to reach the river again, and if I had the power he would never take that formula with him.

As I stared, I thought suddenly that I had seen something move near the fire. The tiger-thought flashed into my brain, and frightened me. I was absolutely helpless, and knew that the brutes were bold. Nothing came of it, however; I saw nothing further move, and was reassured. Then, as it happened, the rain lessened the fire and began to quench it. Because of the storm, dawn would be long in coming. My position was unenviable. Added to all this, O’Grady’s suggestion that Schneider might still be coming along was rather disturbing. He was no such antagonist as O’Grady; if he found me in this plight, he would see to it that I was totally put out of the game. Now I could quite comprehend O’Grady’s fervent dislike of Schneider from the very start. And I could guess what it was Schneider had tried to shout at me, about O’Grady, when we passed his hung-up boat on the river. It must have insufferably maddened the Dubonnet agent to see O’Grady using me as a cat’s paw!

Just here, I felt something brush against the tent, then touch me, and I must have jumped upright where I sat.

VI

Now a dark figure uprose between me and the dying firelight.

“All right, master! It is Yu.” I relaxed. Yu! He chuckled softly as his fingers felt for my wrists, and a knife slipped across the thongs. Then he had the gag out from between my aching jaws.

“Ah! That’s good. How the devil does it happen you aren’t drugged?” He chuckled again.

“I suspected—too late. The other men had drunk while I was helping you here. When the Japs came, I knew that I was helpless against so many, so I shammed sleep. Now, master, stretch yourself, while I make tea and get some chocolate.”

If I had eaten with O’Grady, he had not. He slipped away again, and was busy for a while about the fire, while I rubbed life into my wrists and ankles once more.

Clever Yu! How I blessed him in this moment!

He was back again in no time, with some chocolate and two pannikins of tea. He squatted down under the tent lantern, grinned at me, and sipped his tea.

“What now, master?”

“Any chance of getting those men waked up?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Not for many hours at least. It is almost dawn now. They would not be in shape to set out until noon or after.”

I drank the tea he handed me.

“If we had any arms, I’d set out after O’Grady,” I said. “But we haven’t a thing—”

Yu chuckled. “Master, there are two extra pistols in one of the packs. Also, when I knew that trouble was at hand, I hid my rifle under the leaves near the fire, and the Japs did not find it.”

At this information, I started.

“By my hand, Yu! If we win out yet, I’ll give you a hundred in gold for this night’s work! Can you and I follow the trail?”

He nodded, grinning all over his half bearded countenance.

“Yes, master, and there are some rubber ponchos in a pack, which O’Grady knew nothing about.”

I laughed suddenly.

“Yu, you’re a miracle worker! If you could produce a fresh mule or two—”

“There is one, master,” and he pointed. “That on which Miss French came. She rode downhill most of the way and the animal is not nearly so weary as ours. You can take that mule, and I will take one of the others, for I am light and you are heavy.”

“Good! Then get the ponchos, and the pistols. I’ll help saddle up, and we’ll be off in five minutes. If O’Grady can travel without sleep, I guess we can too.”

Fortunately, the Irishman had had no opportunity to go through everything in camp. I found no lack of vestas, filled my pocket with cigars, stuck in some extra cartridges and chocolate and a flask of brandy, and donned the poncho which Yu brought me. Then I took one of the wide grass-hats of the muleteers, and could snap my fingers at the rain.

We got the two mules saddled, built up the fire in order to protect the sleeping men against beasts, and were ready to leave.

Then, as we stood there, Yu touched my arm and pointed to the back trail. Had it been clear daylight, I suppose we could have overlooked winding portions of that trail for miles. As it was, I perceived, through the rain, occasional flashes of light.

“Hello!” I exclaimed. “Looks as though somebody were using an electric torch back there, Yu.”

“Schneider,” he observed. “Ready, master?”

We mounted and set off, connected by a line about our waists; Yu left the lead to me, since I rode Miss French’s mule, and the animal presumably knew the road. I did not care particularly whether or not Schneider were really coming. In any event, he would find himself too late.

When at length the slow gray dawn stole over us, it found us struggling along the mountain trail through a steady rain. Everything was sodden and dismal. Either the path was slippery and dangerous, or it was slimy with mud and yet more dangerous. No beast but a mule could have negotiated that road through the dawn-darkness. Indeed, we came to one narrow place where one of O’Grady’s mules had slipped and slid from the edge; not so long before, either, since the tracks of the dismounted Jap were visible among the hoof-marks that went onward.

There is nothing so lonely as a trail among desolate mountains in the pouring rain. These hills were desolate enough, too. Before the gray morning had fully come up, the path ahead of us was suddenly bisected by a tremendous flash of tawny color; a huge tiger had gone across the trail like a streak. Perhaps we had frightened him away from some kill made during the night.

Now the trail become dangerous in the extreme, for it wound along a narrow shelf of rock that followed a hill shoulder for a mile or more. The rain and storm had brought down occasional falls of earth and rock; twice O’Grady’s men had been forced to chop a path through huge fallen trees. Once the mule ridden by Yu went clean over the edge with both hind feet, and only our line saved Yu, while he managed to pull up the poor brute after he was out of the saddle. Taken all in all, it was not a pleasant journey.

We had reached the end of that narrow strip, thank fortune, when I made out somewhere ahead of us the very thing I had been half hoping and half dreading to see. It was the thin smoke of a fire trailing up through the rain, and as nearly as I could tell it was not very far distant. I pulled up at once, and pointed it out to Yu.

“I thought they wouldn’t go on for ever, through this storm! Miss French has been on the trail since yesterday noon, and she’s had to give in. Now, she’s safe enough with O’Grady; it’s a question whether we can slip past them or not.”

Yu shook his head in dissent, eyeing the smoke with puckered-up eyes. Then he took out a tiny sleeve-pipe, filled it with black native tobacco, and lighted it. He puffed for a moment until the little steel bowl was empty, and knocked it out.

“You are both right and wrong, master. I think I know what lies ahead; it is a place of which the guides told me last night. There is a deep chasm in the earth, and they expected that the rain might wash away the rickety old bridge that spanned the gap. They told me, however, that a half mile to the right there is a place where a man may jump across. If O’Grady does not know about this, he may go in the other direction to find a passage. There is another bridge, but it is several miles away over the hill.”

“But Miss French came this way during the night!” I objected.

“Yes, master; and the bridge probably went down this morning with the rain. She may not know about the jumping-place. We may as well leave the mules here and go ahead on foot. They will follow us slowly.”

In the light of Yu’s information, I assented, and we started cautiously forward, while the two animals slowly followed after us.

Fortunately, from here on we had a straight and fairly open trail ahead, so that it was not difficult to see what waited us. I reckoned that we were not more than half an hour behind O’Grady, since he must have made slow progress along that bad stretch of trail.

To right and left of us lay forest, and the dark shoulders of hills lifting into the gloomy sky. Directly ahead, and slightly below us, we could see a huge chasm or fault in the rock—a great rent thirty feet in width, which had been bridged by a bamboo suspension affair. This bridge now was gone.

Near what had been the bridge-head, two Japs were hard at work finishing up a little brush shelter. Miss French, obviously, had given up here. She was sitting under a tree, near the mules. Since O’Grady and his three remaining men had vanished, we knew that they had left the girl here while he sought a way of crossing the rift in the rock.

“Circle around to the left,” I told Yu. “When I get close, tell those fellows to put up their hands. No need of murdering ’em.”

He nodded and darted in among the trees.

I stole forward with some caution, but the sturdy little Japs were expecting no one and were working too hard to exert much of a lookout. When I was close enough to cover them with the rifle, I heard Yu’s voice ring out, and I ran forward openly. The Japs both started for the mules, but I put a bullet over their heads and they gave up. Yu came from his shelter and, pistol in hand, took charge of them.

I turned to the girl. She was standing staring at me in blank amazement.

“Good morning, Miss French!” I took off the wide woven hat as I spoke, and her eyes widened. “Yes, it’s the gentleman whom you were told last night was stark mad, but don’t be alarmed. My name’s Breck, and Mr. James Sze Kohler sent me up here to see your brother. O’Grady is a competitor, and rather caught me off guard last night. You were quite right in thinking that I did not have the opium pallor!”

That fetched her, and a slight smile came to her lips. Yet she was incredulous, startled, uncertain of me.

“You say—you come from Mr. Kohler?”

“Yes, Miss French. Now, I beg you, accept the matter without further question. To tell you the truth, I have to reach Kiuling ahead of O’Grady, before he can impose on your brother. My purpose is to buy that lacquer formula. There’s another chap behind us, an agent of Dubonnet & Cie., and we’ve had quite a race of it from the coast. I’m ready to pay your brother whatever price he asks, and to secure his services in future on behalf of Kohler. But I must get ahead of O’Grady. Did he go to right or left?”

A sudden laugh came to her lips.

“You’re an American all right, Mr. Breck. Strict attention to business!” she exclaimed. “Why, Mr. O’Grady went to the left.”

“Good! Then he’s missed the crossing,” I said delightedly. “There’s a place over to the right where the gap can be jumped. How far is it to Kiuling from here?”

“About ten miles, I think.”

At this I grimaced. Ten miles on foot, over these roads, through storm!

“Well, it has to be done. O’Grady drugged my whole outfit last night, but my number one boy was suspicious, and escaped. He let me free after you had gone, and we followed. Now, if you’re not equal to the tramp ahead, I’ll leave Yu here with you. He’ll take good care of you—”

“Wait a minute, please! Don’t be so breathless!” she begged, laughingly. All the while, she had been scrutinizing me closely, and had probably convinced herself of my honesty and sanity. “I only remained here because I knew it was miles over the hill to the next bridge, and that road circles back on the other side of the gorge. O’Grady is coming back here, rig up a line, and get me across, to save that long trip.”

“Good for him,” I said. “He’s a generous foe, and no mistake! Well, then you want me to leave you here—”

“Not at all! I’ll go with you.”

I stared at her, dumfounded.

“But, my dear girl! We’ll have to tramp on to Kiuling on foot, and you must be dead weary this minute.”

“I’ve been asleep under this tree ever since O’Grady departed,” she said. “Besides, I’m quite equal to it, I assure you! And I would sooner be with you than alone here. And you can tell me all about your journey here and your race, as we go along.”

Already I was thinking ahead. If O’Grady came back and heard from those two Japs what had happened, it would never do; I wanted to get to Kiuling first, and trap him. If he came back and found everyone gone, he would perforce have to go on to Kiuling at once, and a little anxiety over Miss French would do him good. Perhaps he would think that Schneider had come up, had brought her along, and had followed him the roundabout way to the other bridge.

I turned and walked out to where Yu stood guard over the two Japs. I explained the situation rapidly to him. Janet French, from her tree-shelter, listened.

“Now,” I went on, “we can’t murder these fellows, Yu. Suppose you take ’em out there fairly close to the gorge, and tie ’em up good and hard, each to a separate tree. Not close enough so that they can shout across, but just so O’Grady can see them from the other side. You might gag them to make sure. Then he’ll send one of his three men back to release them, and go on to Kiuling with the other two Japs. Eh?”

“Excellent, master!” approved Yu, much to my satisfaction. “Will Miss French go with us, then?”

I nodded and returned to her. She eyed me smilingly.

“That boy of yours speaks very good English, Mr. Breck!”

“Mission trained, I presume,” was my reply. “Since you have a fire going, we’ll stop and make some tea and get a meal. I don’t know very much about surgery, but I can make your brother comfortable until O’Grady gets there—and he’ll do the rest.”

“Poor Mr. O’Grady!” she said, her lips twitching. “He’s really very nice!”

“He’s straight enough, and a square enemy,” I admitted. “Well, I’ll see about the tea while Yu is attending to those chaps.”

I got to work and made some tea, stiffening it from my brandy flask. While doing this, an idea came to me, and I summoned Yu. Inquiring from him, I discovered that the narrow portion of the gorge of which he had heard was no more than eight feet wide. So, vastly encouraged, I told him to get the mules saddled and we would try to get them over.

Ten minutes afterward, warmed and heartened by the food and hot drink, we rode off among the trees to the right, taking with us the hand-axes of the two hapless Japs.

What followed, in view of our gloomy forecast, was absurdly easy. We found the narrow place without trouble. Yu and I felled three small trees and trimmed them, and laid them across the opening. Over these, the mountain-trained mules picked their way without a speck of protest, their delicate little hooves guiding them surely. Then, mounting, we headed back for the main trail and Kiuling.

The game was won.

As we rode, I talked with Janet French, and not only imparted information, but learned many things. It appeared that, some months previously, Kohler had written her brother in regard to the lacquer formula on which he was then working. French had agreed to sell Kohler the secret, but since then all communication had been broken off—due, of course, to the activity of the Japs and the Dubonnet company, Kohler had not been able to buy in the Fuchow lacquer factories without much opposition, and in that fight, the chemist away off in the hills had been rather lost to sight.

The Frenches had gone broke; I conjectured as much from little things the girl said, as well as from a remark that O’Grady had previously made. I could see, too, how she had nursed and cared for her brother, helping him with his work, keeping the ménage running smoothly, making their little money go as far as it would. Gradually his health had come back to him, and every day they had hoped that a message would come from Kohler. None had come. Letters sent down to the river had been unanswered.

So at last they prepared to leave Kiuling, borrowing what they could from native merchants. And, during the preparations, French got in the way of a fractious mule. It must have seemed like a final blow from evil fates. Getting her brother into bed, Janet had taken two of their mafus, and started in desperation to find someone who could attend to the injured man.

We fell to talking again of O’Grady, and it was then that Yu intervened quietly, during a lull in our conversation.

“Master,” he said, “we can take care of O’Grady, I think. But be careful! That man Schneider will be dangerous. He will have native guides. He will know of that crossing by which we came. He will know we are ahead of him. Do not forget Schneider, master!”

I nodded, and smiled at Janet French.

“All right, Yu! I’ll bear him in mind. Hello! Looks like the rain is clearing off, eh? There’s a touch of sunlight on the hills ahead.”

The girl lifted her hand and pointed, eagerly.

“And there’s Kiuling, there on the hillside.”

VII

Kiuling was nothing but a straggling cluster of houses, barely a village, ranged along a bare hill-slope. It was gloriously situated, however, with a view of fifty miles across the hills; the rain had quite cleared off by the time we reached the place, and the air was like wine in the blood. No wonder French had won back health in such atmosphere!

There were few people in the place; our advent was scarcely noticed. The Frenches occupied a formerly ruinous old shrine of the mountain-god, a few hundred yards this side of the town itself. Two apathetic servants met us in the courtyard. A tiger had carried off a woman during the night, and the whole town was gone on the hunt, it appeared.

Having instructed Yu to dispose of the mules and remove all signs of our arrival, I accompanied Miss Janet into the main building. One of the usual partitions was in place, dividing the room into two. French lay here, propped up on pillows, and greeted us with a wan smile. He had suffered frightfully, and had been tremendously worried about his sister. His eyes lighted up when Janet introduced me.

“Glad to meet you, Breck. From Kohler, eh? Well, that can wait. Good thing you met Janey—sis, what made you run off that way? I got all fixed up last night. Had those boys come in and set the fracture. It’s the shoulder-blade. They made a rotten job of binding it up, though. D’you suppose you could get me a bite to eat? Haven’t had a thing, and I’m famished—”

With an exclamation, Janet disappeared. French asked for his pipe, which I found and filled. Then he gave me an appraising glance, and spoke.

“Breck, I’ve had hell here all night. I’m about done in, what with worrying over Janey and the hurt of this cursed shoulder. Can you get me into splints or something to ease it?”

“I don’t know enough about it,” I told him frankly. “But O’Grady will be along in an hour or so and he can do the job right. Better wait for him.”

“Who’s O’Grady?”

I told him the story, in few words, and finished by the time Janet appeared with broth and food. Then, taking charge of French, I sent her into the adjoining room behind the partition to get some sleep; almost forced her to go, in fact. She had held up nobly, but she badly needed rest.

The same was true of French. I changed his blankets and pajamas, and he immediately dropped off into a sleep of exhaustion. The poor chap must have been on a tremendous strain through the night, what with the tiger-alarm in the village and the storm, and knowing that Janet had only two men with her. Those two, by the way, had never returned.

Finding the two servants dismissed and Yu in charge of the courtyard, I went across to a smaller building and inspected it. This proved to be French’s workshop and laboratory. As French had packed up everything in preparation for his trip out, the place was fairly well cleaned, and I got it straightened up to use as my abode. French could not travel for some little time, so that I would stay here temporarily.

The day had cleared off in fine shape. Joining Yu, at the entrance, I sat smoking for a while, feeling no particular need of sleep, and enjoying in anticipation what was going to take place. We had secured a pair of field-glasses from French’s equipment, and passed an hour in idle pleasure of relaxation. A party of native hunters had returned to the village, gongs beating and horns blowing, and I was watching them when Yu, who had the glasses, touched my arm. He was smiling.

“Just as you thought, master! O’Grady sent back one of his Japs to release those we bound to trees!”

“The glasses!” I seized them and focused on the back trail. There, half a mile distant, had appeared three mules; O’Grady and his two remaining Japs.

“You can’t stay here; he’d recognize you,” I told Yu. “Come into the main building with me, and we’ll both catch him. He’ll leave his men in the courtyard while he investigates. As soon as we have him, you go and attend to the two Japs.”

We went inside and waited, watching the deep breathing of French on his bed. I recall noticing, then, the rich perfume of the beams of nanmu-wood which pillared the old shrine.

O’Grady overshot the mark and rode past the place into the village, naturally. He soon ascertained where French was located, and came riding back again. Instead of bringing his men into the courtyard, however, as I had hoped, he left them outside the entrance of the shrine and himself came in alone.

“Hallo, French!” came his cheerful hail. “Are ye here, man?”

At this, French stirred and opened his eyes, I made him a sign of caution, and he understood, for a slight smile touched his lips. O’Grady called again, then came striding into the room. He found me on one side of him and Yu on the other, our pistols out.

For a moment he was absolutely paralyzed with incredulous amazement. He stared at me with fallen jaw, his eyes widening on mine.

“Up with ’em, O’Grady,” I said. “Yu, take his gun.”

He knew that I was real enough. For an instant, desperate resolve flickered in his eyes; he was weighing the chance that I would not shoot if he tried for his gun. But I meant to shoot, and he saw it plain enough. He took one deep breath, and lifted his hands. Yu stepped forward and took his automatic away.

“By the rock o’ Doon!” he ejaculated. “Is it real ye are, Breck, or a ghost?”

“Your drugged tea failed to reach Yu,” I said. “We took Miss French from your two men and came along by another and shorter route, that’s all. You’d better attend to those two Japs outside, Yu.”

O’Grady started. His eyes flashed, and for a moment I thought he was about to leap at me barehanded. Instead, he turned his head and shouted something, evidently in Japanese; it was quite incomprehensible to me. There was no way of checking him, short of shooting, which I would not do. Yu went darting away, and I took O’Grady by the shoulder and whirled him about.

“Cut it! Listen to me, O’Grady; you’re beaten, understand? Give me your word of honor to try no tricks against me, and I’ll trust it.”

His eyes were dancing merrily now.

“Done with you,” he responded instantly. “My word on it, Breck.”

I put up the pistol and hastened outside. A shot cracked out, and another. I was in time to see the two Japs lashing their weary mules away on the back trail, while Yu stood at the gate firing after them. One of them pitched out of the saddle, dragged in the stirrup until his mule halted, and lay quiet. The other got clear away.

“Shall I go after him, master?” demanded Yu, his eyes blazing with excitement.

“No. Let the poor devil go. Look after the other one.”

“He is dead,” said Yu calmly. I turned again and strode into the room where O’Grady stood. His eyes questioned me.

“One got away,” I said grimly. “If you’d kept quiet, neither of them would have been hurt, you idiot!”

He grinned in an exasperating way. At this juncture Janet French made her appearance, startled, alarmed by the shots. O’Grady bowed to her.

“That shooting—?”

“Was not important,” I said. “It was incidental to Mr. O’Grady’s arrival, and enforced stay. Now, O’Grady, here’s a patient for you. It seems that the bone has been set more or less. You’ll have to confirm the fact, and then arrange proper splints and bandages. Say what you need, and we’ll get it.”

O’Grady advanced to the bedside. He appeared to be in high good humor despite his overthrow, and greeted French with a smile, and a whimsical air.

“Faith, it’s a good-lookin’ patient you are! And everybody was waitin’ for the surgeon, what? Some with guns an’ some with duns, an’ some—easy now, me lad! Will ye let me have a feel o’ your back! I’ll do no hurtin’, upon me word! That’s the way. Whoever did the job for ye did it proper, I’ll grant; it’s little I can do for ye except to wrap up and bind tight, an’ wait for nature to do her part! Simple fracture, and the bone’s in place.”

French leaned back on his pillows again, a bit white, and O’Grady sent me off after splints and bandaging materials.

When I returned, O’Grady was chatting gaily with the Frenches, and he set to work at once. I might have suspected danger in his merry acceptance of the situation, but I considered him too completely beaten.

In half an hour French was resting in comfort, O’Grady was lighting his pipe, and I knew that the time had come to talk business. So I went at it bluntly.

“French, I’m here on behalf of Kohler to buy that lacquer formula of yours and to engage your services. O’Grady is here on the same errand, on behalf of certain Jap interests, but just at present he’s taking a back seat.”

“Not entirely,” put in O’Grady. “Faith, me lad, I’m empowered to offer fifty thousand in gold, and I’ve a certified check on the Bank o’ Taiwan to prove it.”

He drew from his neck the little pouch that I had taken for a scapulary and opened it. French, however, shook his head.

“Sorry, O’Grady; nothing doing. I’m dealing with Kohler alone in this matter.”

“Can you meet that offer, Breck?”

“Yes,” I said promptly. “I’ll meet it, and Kohler will guarantee whatever salary you ask to retain your services for the next five years. In return, you’re to destroy all and any papers which may hold the formula, and consign it to your memory and mine.”

“Fair enough,” said French. “That’s a bargain, then.”

“Hold on a minute, will ye?” intervened O’Grady calmly. “Don’t cheat yourself, French. Sorry I am to say it, but Breck is no more actin’ for Kohler than I am! He has bought into a lacquer factory in Canton, and he’s tryin’ to get your formula for his own ends. I have a letter to prove for whom I’m actin’, with a certified check to back it; suppose ye see what proof he has to offer that he’s actin’ for Kohler.”

Having delivered this bombshell, O’Grady sat back and enjoyed himself. As he very well knew, it was a bombshell in all verity, for I had no proof behind me, no money, nothing.

French gave me an inquiring glance. His sister was looking from one to another of us in frowning disquietude.

“I’ve an order on any Shansi banker to allow me to draw any sum I desire against the accounts of Kohler,” I said. “Is there one of them here?”

“In Kiuling? Not likely,” French dissented. His gaze was uneasy; O’Grady had wakened suspicion in him, I could see. “But you must have something to show that Kohler sent you, Breck?”

“Not a thing,” I said, telling the blunt truth. “He seemed to think that nothing would be needed, in fact, beyond my word.”

O’Grady chuckled. His gaze crossed mine and in it I read triumph.

“Suppose you let me see that Shansi bank order,” said French.

I produced the document in question and handed it over. As French examined it, we could see that the ideographs meant nothing to him. He could not read Chinese. Then he suddenly started, looked at the paper again, and handed it back to me. He was smiling.

“That’s enough, Breck. The deal is made. I know that seal of Kohler’s, and I know that it’s sufficient guarantee of what you say. No one except Kohler’s most trusted men are allowed to carry that seal. You pretty near put over a good one that time, O’Grady, but it wasn’t quite good enough.”

O’Grady’s face was a study. Chagrin and consternation sat in his eyes, for he realized that he might have won his point had he only destroyed that paper instead of giving it back to me. Then a sudden roar of laughter came to his lips and he rose, hand extended in frank congratulation.

“Breck, old man, shake! You’ve won the round; I concede everything so far. And sorry I was to be tellin’ lies about you, ’pon my word!”

He meant the words, and I gravely shook hands with him, while Miss Janet and her brother smiled at the infectious gaiety of the man.

“What do you mean by conceding everything so far?” I demanded.

O’Grady shook his head, and sobered down.

“That’ be tellin’, me lad! I’m going to win out yet, y’ know; and hanged if I’m not sorry to beat you in the way I’ll have to! But I’ll beat you.” For a moment he regarded me with an air that was very serious, not unmixed with a trace of mournful regret. “Breck, hang it all, I want to see you win! You’re a white man. I like ye fine. But, me lad, that five thousand quid means a big stake to me. It means that I have a chance to get out o’ the hole of my own folly. I’m going to beat you, me lad, and sorry I am to do it, remember that!”

With this speech, the strange fellow turned and left us. What he meant by his words, how he still expected to beat me, I did not know; but I perceived that he was driven by an uneasy devil in this matter. At any cost, he had to win out. It meant everything to him.

The others saw the same thing.

“Look out for him,” said French quietly. “He’s clever, and dangerous.”

“So I’ve found,” was my dry response. “But he’ll keep his word, never fear! I’d have bribed him over to my side before this, except that his word to his employers meant more than money to him. Then, French, not matter what happens, you’re with Kohler?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t tell me the formula unless you want to. If you prefer—”

“I’ll tell you here and now,” he returned. “Janey, dear, watch at the door, will you?”

So the matter was ended, so far as I was concerned; that document written in red ideographs had given French implicit trust in me—rather, the seal had done so. I had the formula, and I committed it to memory.

The game was won, I knew at last. And yet, even as I sat there, the fruits of victory were fast being lost to me, had I but realized it.

VIII

Evening was upon us, and I anticipated an early retirement and a long sleep. I had no fear of any action on the part of O’Grady, for he would keep his word until we had left here at least. Later, undoubtedly, he would make trouble.

Yu had visited the village and must have thrown a healthy scare into French’s servants, for half a dozen of them showed up, unpacked some of the bags, and all four of us dined together in good style.

After dinner I sought out Yu, who was staggering with weariness.

“Go and sleep,” I told him. “I don’t think Schneider is coming at all, or he’d have been along before this; and if he does come, he can’t do anything. Our own party of men will be here tomorrow, too. So turn in and get a good night’s rest. You’ve earned it.”

The whole crowd of us were dead beat, to tell the truth. More than once I noted that O’Grady had lost his airy manner and wore a mien of frowning preoccupation, as though he were inwardly much perturbed about something. We said an early goodnight to the Frenches, and retired to the smaller building across the courtyard. As we undressed, O’Grady turned to me.

“Breck,” he said, “I did something today for which I’m cursed sorry. It can’t be undone now, however. I’ve been sorry, for that matter, ever since I’ve been in this damned game; I’m playing a renegade’s part, and it doesn’t fit me dev’lish easy, I can tell you, me lad! But I’ll have to stick by my mistakes; that’s the hell of it, and leaves a bad taste in the mouth. Good night to ye, and pleasanter dreams than I’ll be havin’.”

He rolled up in his blankets. I was too weary to ponder much over his words, although I could see that something was astir within him. Two minutes afterward, I had turned out the lamp and was asleep as soon as I hit the blankets.

Day had broken again before I wakened; but this wakening of mine was a most uneasy and singular one. I tried to move, and could not. I opened my eyes and stared around, found that I was indeed awake, yet could not stir a muscle. When I glanced down at myself, I perceived the reason.

I was neatly trussed up in my own blankets, roped like a sack of beans!

Astonishment seized upon me, and anger. My first thought was that O’Grady had broken faith; but a moment later his voice came to me, and at the whimsical drawl I twisted myself around and felt new bewilderment.

“Faith, have ye waked up at last? The top o’ the mornin’ to ye, Breck!”

There lay O’Grady, in like plight to my own!

“What’s it mean?” I demanded hotly. “If you haven’t done this—?”

The Irishman chuckled, but there was a glint of anger in his eye.

“Not guilty,” he answered. “You know what that poor devil in the Old Testament was always doin’—digging pits all over Palestine and then fallin’ into them himself? Well, me lad, that’s just what I’ve done.”

I stared at him.

“What d’you mean, O’Grady? For the love of Mike, what has happened?”

“Schneider.”

“Schneider!” I repeated blankly. “But how—?”

“Faith, I have only meself to blame,” he said bitterly. “You remember how I sent off those two Japs? I ordered ’em to double back, find Schneider, and bring him on here; that I’d go partners with him to beat you. That’s all. The filthy blackguard must ha’ scragged my men and come along on his own. He jumped us last night.”

I lay silent, as comprehension came to me.

Schneider had been discounted, thought out of the running entirely; but O’Grady had made a desperate effort to beat me at the last with his help. Now Schneider had come, and had tied us up while we slept in exhaustion; and O’Grady would be calmly ignored. He had leaned on a rotten reed in trusting Schneider.

“You’ve played hell,” I said. “Where’s Yu?”

“Don’t know. Skipped out, I fancy, or caught asleep.” O’Grady’s features brightened a trifle. “Schneider won’t pay any attention to Yu. He may lend us a hand yet—though from the sounds I believe Schneider has a number of men with him.”

I had no particular hope in Yu, however, at this juncture. Schneider seemed to hold the whip-hand, and now it was only a question of what terms he would propose. Here in this mountain district he could commit any crime with impunity, and there was none to withstand him.

Five minutes afterward, Schneider himself came into the room. With him were two villainous-looking men, who drew knives and slashed rather recklessly at our bonds. Schneider himself drew a pistol, sat down on a pile of mule-trappings, and regarded us with a sleeky benevolent air.

“Sit up, gentlemen, but do not stand, I pray,” he said. One of the Chinese remained at the door, the other disappeared. “Well, well! So glad to see you again, Mr. Breck! And you, Mr. O’Grady! Pleasant day outside, I assure you.”

I sat up. O’Grady, rubbing his chafed wrists, chuckled.

“You’re not goin’ partners with me, Schneider?”

The other laughed softly.

“With you? Not in the least! It was very kind of you to bring me here—”

O’Grady, with absolutely no warning whatever, hurled himself forward. He had caught up the slashed thongs, and flung them into Schneider’s face to embarrass the man’s aim; then he was plunging across the floor with a stupendous display of agility.

The effort almost succeeded, but it was desperate and a fraction too slow. Schneider cursed and fired, fired again, then jerked up his pistol to cover me, a snarl on his lips. By the time the Chinaman from the doorway had leaped into the room, it was over. O’Grady lay motionless.

“Look at him, Breck,” said Schneider calmly: “I don’t think he’s dead.”

I stooped forward above the Irishman. He was not dead. One bullet had ploughed through his scalp, the other had missed. Schneider looked up at two more Chinese who had entered, and in French commanded them to take O’Grady outside, bandage the wound, and bind his wrists and ankles again.

It was done; when we were alone again, Schneider looked at me and grinned.

“Are you going to try the same trick, Breck?”

I shook my head. “No. I’m too sane.”

“Word of honor?”

I nodded. Schneider put up his pistol, lighted a cigarette, and handed me one, which I accepted gratefully enough.

“You observe,” he said, “that I am determined not to be beaten. You and I are now going to come to terms, mon gars! We have all had a, pleasant journey with much incident to enliven it. Now that the cards are all played, you will observe that I have kept my aces for the last.”

He was right enough about that, although it was due to O’Grady that he had won.

“Where are the Frenches?” I asked him.

“Under guard,” he replied coolly. “French tells me he’s already given you the formula for the lacquer. Refuses to sell to me. That right?”

I nodded. He knocked the ash from his cigarette and got up.

“Five minutes to think it over,” he announced. “Give it to me. Your friend Kohler can make all of the stuff he wants—so long as we make it too. Dubonnet & Cie. are not going to be left out in the cold, Mr. Breck, I can assure you!

“Give me the formula, then you and O’Grady can each take a mule and go; not back to the river, but on into the hills. You’ll come out sometime. Refuse, and I’ll tell my men to bring Miss French in here and exert a little persuasion on her—until you yield. So you might as well save her the unpleasant experience. Think it over.”

I half started up, when his pistol swung viciously at me, and I relaxed.

“You damned blackguard!” I said. “You’d not dare to do such a thing!”

He laughed at me. Like most of these sleek, swarthy Latins, he had a strain of cold cruelty close to the surface. As I met his gaze, I knew that he would keep his word to the letter. He knew that I knew it, too, for without answering me, he strode out of the room.

Those five minutes were all to short for their agonized suspense. I knew that Kohler wanted a monopoly on this product, just as he was getting a monopoly on the output of lac itself. If I gave up the secret, the chances were even that Schneider would kill me anyhow, to insure himself a monopoly; but he would also leave Kiuling instantly and strike for the coast.

If I refused, the devil would keep his word and torture Janet French, shame her. Even if I still resisted, he would try the same trick on her brother, who would doubtless give in. A noble rectitude to my employer would gain the girl nothing, and would only cause her untold suffering.

When Schneider returned, I rose to my feet, my mind resolved.

“Well?” he demanded smoothly.

“You win,” I said quietly. I did not add that I intended, if I got away, to circle around and try to catch him before he reached the river. “If I give you the formula, what assurance have I that you’ll keep your word?”

His eyes narrowed on me.

“None, Breck, none. Come outside. You’ll have a mule and a rifle, with cartridges in your pocket. Give me the formula. I’ll read it over to French; I’ll know quick enough if it’s right or not! If it is, you can go, and O’Grady with you. I’ll tell French just why you gave it to me, and he’ll find it to his best interest to tell the truth.”

“Agreed,” I said.

He gestured and I followed him out into the sunlight of the courtyard. We walked toward the hou-feng, or rear building, which was used as a stable. Here were a number of mules, with the bound O’Grady sitting in one saddle and guarded by a Chinese. O’Grady had quite recovered his senses, and greeted me with a wry smile as we approached.

Schneider gave a curt order. Another of his men appeared. An empty rifle was given me and some cartridges were put into my pocket. Then, with the two Chinese holding their guns upon me, lest I try to load and use the rifle in my hand, Schneider held out a pencil and paper to me.

“What’s up?” asked O’Grady.

“Schneider wins,” I said curtly. “He’s just brute enough to torture a woman, and the game isn’t worth the candle.”

O’Grady cursed Schneider viciously, but had only a mocking laugh for response, I wrote out the formula and handed it to Schneider; he took it with triumph glittering in his eyes.

“Back in a minute,” he said, and crossed the courtyard to the main building where French lay.

He was as good as his word. In less than a minute he reappeared, laughing, and waved his hand.

“All right,” he sang out. “Climb into the saddle, Breck, and be on your way.”

I obeyed, heart-heavy.

IX

Even as I clambered into the saddle, however, there came from the stables a voice that made me pause, the voice of Yu.

“Wait a minute, master! Wait a minute!”

I glanced around, but saw nothing of the boy. Schneider, at the words, came striding across the courtyard.

“Who’s that?” he demanded, hand at his gun.

“My boy Yu,” I responded. “He must have been asleep.”

“Here I am,” said Yu’s voice.

I looked around again at the door of the rear building, and sat petrified, staring in astonishment. Schneider’s mouth opened, stark amazement seizing him, and a terrible light of recognition blazing in his dark eyes.

From the doorway came, not Yu, but James Sze Kohler, smiling and fingering a cigar.

“Hello, Schneider!” he said casually. “Have you had a good time? It’s a pity that you prevailed on Breck to hand you over that formula; otherwise, you might have gone free. How’ve you been since we last met?”

Schneider recovered from his stupefaction. He snapped an order at his two men; then, as their rifles lifted, those rifles were suddenly trained upon Schneider himself. Kohler uttered a low laugh.

“No use, Schneider, no use at all! These are my men, you know.”

“Kohler!” I exclaimed. “How in the name of all that’s holy did you get here?”

Kohler glanced at me and chuckled softly.

“My dear chap, I came all the way with you! Didn’t I make a presentable coolie, with the beard and all? Now, master, everything is ready, and we can start if you like.”

It was the voice of Yu that issued from Kohler’s throat. He chuckled again at my look.

“You see, Breck, I needed to be shielded and forgotten; and everything worked out very well. By the way, just how did Mr. Schneider propose to torture a woman?”

Schneider stood there with sweat streaming out on his oily face. He knew now how he had been trapped; he perceived that his men were really Kohler’s men; and I think that in Kohler’s glance he read no mercy at all.

At all events, before I had started to speak, a curse fell from his lips. Regardless of the two Chinese, his hand leaped to his pistol. As he jerked it forth, the rifles cracked pitilessly. Schneider spun around and fell in a heap.

There was a moment of silence.

“Just as well,” said Kohler quietly. “Just as well. Better, perhaps, this way—since he knew the formula.”

“Good heavens, Kohler!” I exclaimed. “You wouldn’t have murdered him merely because he had learned that secret?”

Kohler’s eyes dwelt speculatively upon me.

“My dear Breck,” he said, in his gentle voice, “I might not have done so, and again I might. But if he had threatened harm to Janet French, I certainly would have done so. As it is, all’s well. You’ve done your work excellently, all and more than I had counted on; I think we may say that the campaign has been very successful.”

O’Grady, who had been staring hard at Kohler, suddenly broke into a laugh.

“By the rock o’ Doon!” he cried out gaily. “So you’re Kohler, are you? Well, I’m out o’ this game; you’re too deep for me. Faith, if I’d guessed that the boy Yu was really James Sze Kohler—What dev’lish chances I’ve missed, what?”

Kohler chuckled. “Exactly, my dear O’Grady! Your attention was quite centered on Mr. Breck, just as I figured. May I have the pleasure of taking you to the coast with me and sending you home to Japan?”

O’Grady shook his head, drew a deep breath, laughed again, more freely this time.

“Not me, thanks! No Japan for me. I’m done with sellin’ my honor among devils.”

“Then,” suggested Kohler, “suppose we journey to the coast together—and I may find some employment for you. Would such a course appeal to you, or do you class me with devils?”

“D’ye mean it?” cried O’Grady, his eyes widening.

“I do,” said Kohler calmly.

“Good! It’s agreed!” responded the Irishman promptly. “When do we start?”

“In an hour,” said Kohler.

At this, I intervened.

“But see here, Kohler!” I protested. “French is in no shape to travel just yet! You’ll have to give his shoulder a chance to mend, you know! And we can’t all run off and leave him alone here with Miss French.”

Under Kohler’s slow, sleepy smile I checked myself.

“My dear Breck,” he replied, “I don’t intend doing anything of the kind. French remains here with his sister, until he’s able to travel. Perhaps you remember the precise matter in which I engaged your services? It was to bring French to the coast. When that is done, your present task is ended, and you begin your work on my private staff.”

“What!” I said. “You mean that you’re going to leave me here with them, to bring them down to the coast?”

“Exactly,” said Kohler, and chuckled. “Do you object? If so, Mr. O’Grady—”

“Damn O’Grady!” I said hastily, “no, I’m tickled to death to stay! That is, if Miss French—”

I broke off in some confusion, for O’Grady was laughing, and in Kohler’s eyes I read a complete understanding of all that I had not said.

“Suppose you go in and ask Miss French for yourself,” said Kohler, amusedly.

I did so.

That’s why it was two months before we reached the coast again, and as everyone knows, a tremendous lot of things can happen in a period of two months. They did, at least, in my particular case; and O’Grady was best man.

But I never saw my perfect servant, Yu, again!