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The Blue Dragon: A Tale of Recent Adventure in China

by Kirk Munroe · English · Gutenberg #42886 · 384,771 chars · public domain (US)

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Title: The Blue Dragon: A Tale of Recent Adventure in China

Author: Kirk Munroe


        
Release date: June 6, 2013 [eBook #42886]
                Most recently updated: October 23, 2024

Language: English

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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BLUE DRAGON: A TALE OF RECENT ADVENTURE IN CHINA ***

                            The Blue Dragon

                  A TALE OF RECENT ADVENTURE IN CHINA

                            BY Kirk Munroe

    AUTHOR OF THE "MATES SERIES" THE "PACIFIC COAST SERIES" "FORWARD
    MARCH" ETC.


    ILLUSTRATED

    [Illustration]

    NEW YORK AND LONDON
    HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS
    1905

    Copyright, 1904, by Harper & Brothers.

    _All rights reserved._

    Published October, 1904.




[Illustration: "A HORSEMAN FLED BEFORE THEM"]




CONTENTS


CHAPTER PAGE

I. A STRANGER IN A STRANGE LAND 1

II. AMERICA'S UNFRIENDLY WELCOME 10

III. ROB TO THE RESCUE 18

IV. A TRIUMPH FOR JO'S ENEMIES 26

V. THREATENED VIOLENCE 35

VI. THE SHERIFF TAKES PROMPT MEASURES 44

VII. THE SENTENCE OF THE COURT 52

VIII. JO'S ENEMIES PREPARE A TRAP 61

IX. JO FINDS THAT HE IS SOME ONE ELSE 70

X. WHAT HAPPENED ON THE WAY TO CHINA 79

XI. ACCEPT A KINDNESS AND PASS IT ALONG 88

XII. FROM THE GOLDEN GATE TO THE PEARL RIVER 97

XIII. IN THE WORLD'S MOST MARVELLOUS CITY 106

XIV. A TURN OF FORTUNE'S TIDE 116

XV. IN THE HEART OF UNKNOWN CHINA 125

XVI. "FISTS OF RIGHTEOUS HARMONY" 134

XVII. LEAPING INTO UNKNOWN BLACKNESS 143

XVIII. A SUPPER OF SACRED EELS 151

XIX. AN EXHIBITION OF THE RAIN-GOD'S ANGER 160

XX. ROB MAKES A STARTLING DISCOVERY 169

XXI. THE REFUGEES OF CHENG-TING-FU 178

XXII. A CHARGE AND A RACE FOR LIFE 187

XXIII. STEALING A LOCOMOTIVE 196

XXIV. THE TIMELY EXPLOSION OF A BOILER 204

XXV. IN CHINA'S CAPITAL CITY 213

XXVI. WAR CLOUDS 222

XXVII. CHINA DEFIES THE WORLD 231

XXVIII. FIGHTING SIXTY FEET ABOVE GROUND 241

XXIX. JO HEAPS COALS OF FIRE 250

XXX. THE CAPTURE OF PEKIN 260




ILLUSTRATIONS


"A HORSEMAN FLED BEFORE THEM" _Frontispiece_

MAP SHOWING ROUTE FOLLOWED BY AUTHOR _Facing p._ 1

"AS POOR JO LOST HIS FOOTING AND FELL, ROB DASHED INTO THE MÊLÉE" 20

"HIS MADLY YELLING PURSUERS WERE NOW CLOSE UPON HIM" 140

"THE FUGITIVES MADE A CAUTIOUS ENTRY INTO THE SACRED PRECINCTS" 152

"HE WAS ABLE TO GAZE CALMLY AT HER WHEN THEY ONCE MORE WERE ESCORTED
PAST THE CATHEDRAL" 184

"SO THEY DROVE ON, MILE AFTER MILE" 204

"THE SAVAGES FLED IN DISMAY BEFORE THAT CHARGE OF YELLING AMERICANS" 248




TO MY READERS


The Blue Dragon, chosen as a title for this story, is the national
emblem of China, adopted as such by a desire to flatter and propitiate
that spirit of evil considered to be the most powerful. As the dragon
is believed to be big enough and strong enough to overcome and devour
all the other wicked genii who continually vex Chinese life, the wise
men of the "Black-haired People" thought it best to have him on their
side, and consequently accorded him the highest honor in their power
to bestow. As we of America chose the eagle, strongest of visible air
spirits, for our national emblem, so the Chinese chose the most powerful
of invisible spirits in whose existence they believe as firmly as we do
in the existence of things that we can see, hear, or feel.

In the story thus entitled, I have endeavored to give an idea of what
China has been, is, and may become through education and development,
how she is regarded, and how her people are being treated by other
nations, and what causes she has for resentment against those who are
taking advantage of her feebleness to despoil her.

While travelling in China, and trying to gain the Chinese point of
view, I met so many charming people, so many men of intelligence and
liberal education, honorable, broad-minded, and devoted to the uplifting
of their unhappy country, that I became exceedingly interested in their
cause, and anxious to aid it. With this object in view I am striving,
through the medium of a story, to present it to those young Americans
who, in the near future, will be called upon to decide the ultimate fate
of the great Middle Kingdom. With them, more than with any other people,
even including the Chinese themselves, will rest the decision, whether
China shall remain a nation, open to the unobstructed commerce of the
world, or become a series of petty colonial possessions devoted only
to the interests of their several ruling powers. That my young readers
may be guided to a wise and just solution of this great problem, is the
sincere hope of their friend,


KIRK MUNROE.

BISCAYNE BAY, FLORIDA,

_January, 1904_.

[Illustration: MAP SHOWING ROUTE FOLLOWED BY AUTHOR]




THE BLUE DRAGON




CHAPTER I

A STRANGER IN A STRANGE LAND


"Chinee! Chinee! Chink! Chink! Chink!"

These epithets, and many others equally contemptuous, such as "Rat
Eater!" and "Piggy Tail!" were gleefully shouted by a mob of young
ragamuffins who crowded about a single youthful figure, early one summer
morning, on the elm-shaded main street of Hatton. The lad thus hustled
and insulted was a good-looking chap according to the standard of his
own people; though his long-lashed, wide-set eyes were narrower than
those of his tormentors, his clear complexion held a tint of yellow, the
front half of his head was shaved, and the remaining luxuriant growth
of jet-black hair, such as all Chinese have, and of which they are so
proud that they call themselves "the black-haired people," hung in a
thick, glossy braid down his back. He wore a blue gown that fastened
closely about his neck and fell in severely simple lines, without belt
or ornamentation, almost to his feet. Below it could be seen a pair of
black silk trousers, tightly fastened over a narrow section of white
stockings, that in turn were lost to view in black cloth shoes having
embroidered tops and felt soles. He had worn a round, visorless cap of
black silk, surmounted by a crimson knot, but this had been knocked
off, and now was being ruthlessly kicked and trampled underfoot by the
hoodlums who, having discovered a victim that could be abused with
impunity, were making the most of the welcome chance. Nor were they
without encouragement in their cruel sport; for a group of men and young
women, on their way to the great factory that was at once the mainstay
of Hatton's prosperity and an ever-threatening menace, had paused to
enjoy the sight of a crowd of American boys tormenting a helpless
foreigner, and greeted the sorry spectacle with shouts of laughter.

"That's right, kiddies!" cried one of the men. "Down with the
yellowbelly, and teach him that this country ain't no place fer him nor
his kind."

"Dirty, rat-eating scab!" growled another.

"Somehow, it don't seem right, though," said one of the young women,
with a tone of pity in her voice, as the badgered lad was suddenly
jerked backward and nearly thrown to the ground by a violent pull at his
queue. "He does look so like a girl, with his blue dress, his little
hands, and his braided hair."

"Oh, hush up, Mag! You're too soft for anything!" exclaimed another.
"He ain't nothing but just a low-lived heathen Chinee, like them as
runs the laundry over to Adams. They'd take the bread out of honest
working-people's mouths quick as wink, if they was give half a chance."

Just then the factory bell rang with insistent clamor, and the jeering
group of workers moved on. At a meeting held a few evenings before
they had loudly cheered and unanimously passed a resolution to the
effect that the government ought immediately to deport to their own
country, at their own expense, all Chinese found within its territory.
One of the speakers had declared that, if the government was slow in
doing this thing, it was the duty of every American citizen to take
the matter into his own hands, drive out the Chinese wherever found,
destroy their places of business, and hunt them to the death if they
offered resistance. Of course, the children of those men, having heard
this resolution discussed, and its accompanying speeches repeated with
applauding comments, deemed it their privilege to attack, and, if
possible, drive from their virtuous village every representative of
the hated race they might encounter; and, unfortunately for him, poor,
innocent, helpless Chinese Jo was the first to fall into their joyful
clutches.

This was the first experience of his first day in Hatton, which he had
reached after dark the evening before. He had come to America, from
his far-away native land, in company with a dozen others of his young
countrymen. These others had been sent over by the Chinese government
to be educated and taught the ways of Western civilization; and Jo's
father, Li Ching Cheng, a progressive mandarin, who realized the value
of such an education, had seized the opportunity to add his one dear son
to the party, that he might gain the priceless advantage of some years
of study in the same land.

Now it happened that in Mandarin Li's district labored an American
medical missionary, Mason Hinckley by name, who also had an only son.
When this boy was four years old, his parents, desirous that he should
have an American training from the outset, had taken him to the United
States and placed him in charge of his uncle and aunt, the Rev. William
and Mrs. Hinckley, of Hatton, a manufacturing village of the lovely
Connecticut valley. Then, with aching hearts, they had returned to
their lonely post of duty in China, and only twice during the following
fourteen years were they able to visit their boy.

When Mandarin Li announced that he, too, proposed to send a son to
America, and asked if the Hinckleys could not arrange to have him
received into the same family with their Rob, they gladly consented
to do what they could. Their hope for their own boy was that he would
eventually return to China, and they realized the value to him of a
present companionship with a young Chinese of education and refinement.
So a letter was sent to Hatton, and finally everything was arranged for
the comfort and happiness of Mandarin Li's son. Thus he was sent forth
on his long journey, half-way around the world, filled with a joyous
enthusiasm over his prospects.

He and his young friends travelled in charge of a home-returning
American, who had promised to see them safely to their several
destinations in New England. By his advice they adopted English names
for use in the country to which they were bound, and our lad chose
that of Joseph. As his father's surname was Li, which, in Chinese, is
pronounced "Lee," he thus became known to his future teachers and more
precise acquaintances as Joseph Lee; but all his American boy friends
called him "Chinese Jo," or "China Jo," or "Chinee Jo," according to
their several degrees of intelligence, and it is thus that we shall
know him as we accompany him through the various adventures which it is
proposed to record in the following pages.

They began, as already has been seen, with his very first morning in the
new home that he had reached the evening before, tired from his long
journey, bewildered by the multitude of strange sights and experiences
that had crowded thickly about him from the moment of landing at San
Francisco, and terrified at the great loneliness that had come to him
with the departure of his comrades, who had been left, by twos, at other
places before Hatton was reached. At the last of these points, only a
few miles away, the gentleman who had escorted them from China had been
obliged to send him on alone, after notifying the Hinckleys by telegraph
of his coming.

Rob met him at the Hatton station, looked after his luggage of queer
camphor-wood boxes, and took him to the pleasant parsonage that was to
be his home in the strange land. Although Jo talked only broken English,
while Rob had very nearly forgotten the Chinese of his childhood,
they managed to converse after a fashion, and took to each other from
the very first. Rob, eighteen years old, brown, broad-shouldered, and
sturdy, offered a striking contrast in appearance to the slender lad
who walked, with noiseless, felt-shod feet, beside him, and Jo at once
conceived a liking for the young American, who greeted him so cordially,
took charge of him and his affairs with such an air of authority, and
even could speak a few words of intelligible Chinese.

Rob also was pleased with the foreign lad, whose appearance recalled a
happy childhood spent in company with many such blue-clad figures on the
other side of the world. At the same time he was glad that Jo had not
reached his destination a few hours earlier; for he realized that the
strangeness of his companion's costume and his general make-up would
have attracted much unpleasant attention from the village boys had they
been revealed by daylight. He determined to urge upon his uncle the
advisability of confining Jo to the house on the following day, or until
he could be provided with an outfit of American clothing, and persuaded
to wear his hair in accordance with American ideas.

A warm welcome and a good supper awaited the young traveller at the
parsonage; and under their cheering influence his homesickness was,
for the time being, forgotten. His boxes were promptly delivered at
the house, and from them he took the most marvellous array of gifts
for various members of the Hinckley family that ever had been seen
in Hatton. To Mrs. Hinckley he presented several superb pieces of
embroidered silks from Canton, a centre-piece for a table of pale-blue
grass linen, drawn work from Swatow, a cloisonné teapot from Pekin,
and half a dozen tiny teacups of exquisite Foo-Chow porcelain. For Mr.
Hinckley he had wonderful ivory carvings in the shape of chessmen, and
a wadded silk dressing-gown; while to Rob, in addition to several jars
of Chinese confections, including sugared ginger-root, bamboo-tips,
water-melon rind, edible sea-weeds, and palm-leaf buds, he gave a
complete suit of Chinese clothing, such as is worn by the sons of
wealthy mandarins, and selected from his own wardrobe. It was in
striking contrast to the simple scholar's gown of light-blue cotton
cloth that he had adopted as an inconspicuous travelling costume; for
its dark-blue skirt was heavily embroidered with gold thread; it had a
jacket of light-blue silk, with wide, flowing sleeves, a wine-colored,
sleeveless over-jacket of the same rich material, black silk trousers,
with plum-colored over-trousers, a light-blue silk cap, with a crystal
button on top, silken socks, and gold-embroidered felt shoes.

Rob gasped with amazement when the various parts of this superb
costume were unfolded before him, and was inclined to regard it with
contemptuous amusement.

"All these silk petticoats and things for a boy!" he sniffed. "Catch me
ever wearing such a lot of girl's stuff! And, I say, Uncle Will, that
reminds me--don't you think we'd better get him into American clothes,
and have his pig-tail cut off, before he is turned loose on the street.
He'll jump into no end of trouble if he shows outside in anything like
these, or even as he is now. It looks funny even to me, and I'll bet he
couldn't walk down Main Street without being mobbed."

"I myself think that the sooner he conforms to the dress and customs of
the country in which he is to reside for some time to come, the better
it will be for him," replied Mr. Hinckley. "But, Rob, I don't like the
way you seem inclined to treat his gift, and I am very glad he could not
wholly understand what you just said about it. A gift of any nature,
offered as a token of friendliness and good-will, should be accepted
in the same spirit, even though it may not be just what you would have
chosen. I do not know of anything that hurts one's feelings more keenly
than to have a friendly overture contemptuously rejected."

"Of course, I wouldn't hurt his feelings for anything, Uncle Will,"
replied Rob, with a contrite flush mounting to his forehead. "I already
like him too much for that, and I wouldn't have said what I did about
his present if I had thought. I do thank you ever so much," he added,
turning to Jo, "for all this silk stuff. I'm awfully glad to have it,
and I'll put it away to wear at my first fancy-dress ball, if I ever go
to one. Anyway, whenever I look at it, I'll be reminded that Chinese Jo
is my friend, and that I am his."

Although Jo did not understand all the words thus spoken, he was so
fully satisfied with their tone and the smile that accompanied them
that, a little while later, when he went to bed, he was happy in the
consciousness of having gained a friend of his own age in this strange
land of strangers.




CHAPTER II

AMERICA'S UNFRIENDLY WELCOME


In spite of Jo's weariness of the night before, and the sound sleep
that followed, he was out of bed by sunrise and gazing curiously from
his chamber window. The air was sweet and cool, the arching elms stood
motionless, as though not yet awake, and between them he caught a
silvery gleam of the Connecticut. Beyond it rose soft, swelling hills,
and he imagined their green slopes to be thickly strewn with graves,
as always is the case in China; on them, too, he could see occasional
groves of trees, each of which he supposed must shelter a white-walled
temple or sacred shrine, this being the prime object of groves in his
native land.

He wondered at not seeing any tall-sailed junks or guard-boats on the
river, and at the utter absence of the useless but picturesque pagoda
towers that add so much to the beauty of every Chinese landscape.
Then, remembering that America is a very new country in comparison
with his own, he concluded that its people had not yet found time to
build pagodas, or, perhaps, were too poor. Of course, he could trace no
resemblance between the broad, well-shaded avenue below him, with its
rows of neat, white houses, and the narrow, crowded, shadeless streets
to which he was accustomed. At the same time, the green country on
which he gazed looked so very like a bit of Chinese river valley that
he longed to explore it, with a hope of finding thatched farm-houses,
curve-roofed temples, or other homelike features that should recall his
own beloved valley of the Si-Kiang. He listened with pleasure to the
singing of birds, which were infinitely more numerous than in China, and
to the tinkle of cow-bells, a sound he never before had heard. He wished
he might go down to the street and begin at once his study of the many
strange things it was certain to contain, and he wondered how soon a
servant would appear in his room with the bowl of tea that would be the
signal for rising.

While he thus was cogitating, he heard a door below him open and close,
and then he saw his newly made friend, Rob Hinckley, go whistling down
the street, swinging in one hand a bright tin milk-can. If he only had
known that Rob was up and going out, he might have gone, too. Perhaps
even now he might overtake him and have a walk in his company. He was
dressed, and the only thing about him not thoroughly presentable was his
queue, which, not yet cared for that morning, looked rough and unkempt.
At home some one always had combed and braided it for him, first his
mother, and afterwards a servant. Since coming away, one of his Chinese
companions and he had braided each other's queues every morning. Now
Jo wondered who was to perform this service, but supposed that sooner
or later some servant would come to his assistance. He wished the lazy
fellow had appeared, and that this most important feature of his toilet
had been attended to, for in China no gentleman will present himself on
the street or in company unless his queue is carefully braided smooth
and glossy. Exposed to public view in any other condition, it is a sign
that its owner is in such deep affliction that he takes no interest even
in the most important affairs of life.

Having been carefully instructed in this branch of Chinese etiquette,
Jo was puzzled as to what he should do. He longed to join Rob on his
walk, but hesitated to offend his friend by appearing before him with a
disordered queue. He could not put it in order himself, and no one was
at hand to assist him. Of course, he might conceal the fact that it was
frowzy by coiling it about his head and hiding it beneath his cap; but
even this plan had its drawback, for in the Flowery Kingdom it is an
almost unpardonable offence for any man to appear in the presence of his
superiors with queue coiled about his head or in any other way hidden.
Still, the only superiors recognized at present by Jo were the senior
Hinckleys, and by going down-stairs very quietly he might slip out of
the house without attracting their notice, and so avoid giving offence.

Thus thinking, the lad hastily coiled his cherished but at that moment
rather disreputable-looking queue closely about his head, pulled his
cap over it, and, softly opening his room door, stole forth with the
noiseless tread of a sneak-thief. He got safely as far as the front
door, but there he made so much noise fumbling with the unfamiliar latch
as to attract the attention of Mr. Hinckley, who was dressing, and he
called down, "Who's there?"

Not understanding the question, and as dismayed at the prospect of
being discovered with his queue disrespectfully coiled as an American
boy would be if caught stealing jam, Jo made no reply, but redoubled
his efforts at the door. Suddenly, as he was pulling it with all his
strength, the latch turned and the door flew open, sending him to the
floor with a crash. Mrs. Hinckley screamed, and her husband, shouting
"Stop thief!" started down-stairs. He failed, however, to reach the
bottom in time to discover the author of the disturbance, for Jo,
thoroughly, frightened by the untoward result of his efforts to enact
the part of a Chinese gentleman, had hastily scrambled to his feet and
fled through the now wide-open door. Although the minister did not
see him, Mrs. Hinckley, peeping between the half-closed slats of the
window-blinds, did, and exclaimed:

"My good gracious, William! If it isn't that China boy!"

"Nonsense," replied Mr. Hinckley, as, realizing the futility of a chase
under existing conditions, he hastened back to the room.

"I tell you it is, for I just saw him with my own eyes, blue dress and
all, go flying down the street as though the constable was after him.
I've no doubt he ought to be, too, for the boy's run away--that's what
he's done--and probably taken every mite of silver in the house with
him."

"Nonsense!" again ejaculated Mr. Hinckley, as he slipped on a pair of
trousers.

"You may say 'nonsense' as much as you like," retorted his wife, "but
you'll think something else when you find out that every word I'm
speaking is solemn truth. I always did mistrust the Chinese, and so
would you if you'd heard all the stories I have about their dreadful
wickedness down at the society."

"Didn't know any of them belonged to the society," interposed Mr.
Hinckley, unable even at this critical moment to resist a sly joke at
his wife's expense.

"You know what I mean, William Hinckley, just as well as I do," was the
reply; "and I do think this is a pretty time to be poking fun at your
poor wife, when a pig-tailed 'yellow peril,' as he is truly called, is
running off with every mite of her own mother's family silver. It's no
wonder we are trying to exclude them, and I only wish we'd succeeded
before this one ever came to Hatton. They do say down at the society
that the Chinese are about to overrun the world; and, from what I've
just seen, I've no doubt it's true."

"Of course, it must be so if _they_ say so, my dear," answered
the minister, as he fastened his shirt-collar; "but I'll try some
overrunning myself after this first 'yellow peril' who has ever tried
to overrun Hatton. As he is too conspicuous an object to run far without
attracting attention, I expect to catch up with him very shortly, and
to return with him inside of half an hour. Then I hope breakfast will
be ready, for both of us are certain to be extremely hungry after our
exercise."

"Perhaps it will, if he's left a bit of food in the house to cook or
a thing to cook with, which I doubt," retorted Mrs. Hinckley, as her
husband, now wholly dressed, again started towards the street. In the
mean time, Chinese Jo, quite unaware of the turmoil he had left behind
him, and only anxious to overtake Rob, whom he just could see far down
the street, had, as Mrs. Hinckley declared, set forth on a run in that
direction. Also, as Mr. Hinckley had predicted, he was too strangely
conspicuous to run far without attracting attention. At first the few
people on the street at this early hour only stared at him, but after a
little they began to call and point at him, and boys began to pursue him
with joyous shouts of anticipated fun.

All at once Jo discovered that Rob no longer was in sight, and also that
a number of small boys, all yelling at the top of their voices, were
running on both sides of him. Fearing lest he might pass the place where
he had last seen his friend, and puzzled to account for his present
escort, the Chinese lad stopped and looked about him. He had reached the
village common, on which half a dozen disreputable young ragamuffins
were playing an early game of toss-penny. These, discerning in his
presence a more exciting interest, promptly abandoned their game and ran
whooping towards him.

Now, for the first time, Jo began to feel nervous and wish that he had
not ventured out among these barbarians unprotected. All the terrible
stories he had heard concerning the cruel treatment of his countrymen
by Americans surged into his memory and filled him with dismay. Never
before had he believed them, but now it seemed probable that some of
them might be true.

No Chinese is a fighter, either by nature or education, and Jo was not
an exception to this rule. Thus he would have fled from his present
unhappy position had flight been possible, but it was not. He was
completely encircled by his merciless tormentors, who, as they realized
his utter helplessness, became more and more bold in their attacks. At
first they only hooted, jeered, and called him names. Then they began
to hustle and push him. At length one of them snatched off his cap and
flung it to the ground, where it was trampled underfoot and kicked from
one to another. With the loss of his cap Jo's queue was uncoiled from
about his head and dropped down his back. In this position it was caught
and jerked by one and another of the yelling mob until its wretched
owner was half crazed by pain and fright. Thus he was shoved and pulled,
spun giddily round and round, pelted with mud, and repeatedly struck
with sticks or clinched fists. His blue gown was torn in many places,
and his face was bleeding. Finally he slipped, failed in a convulsive
effort to save himself, and fell, carrying to earth with him one of the
young miscreants at whom he had clutched as he went down.

Jo's fall was greeted by yells of delight from the imps who had caused
it, but directly their jubilations were exchanged for howls of dismay
and pain. At the critical moment an avenger had appeared among them, and
he was dealing furious blows at their unguarded bodies with a terrible,
flashing weapon, that scattered them as chaff is scattered by a fierce
wind.




CHAPTER III

ROB TO THE RESCUE


Rob Hinckley had gone out early on that eventful morning for the family
milk that he fetched every day from a small farm at the lower end of
the village. His mind was full of the strange, new companion who had
come into his life the evening before; and, as he went whistling down
the street, he was planning how he should introduce him to the boys of
Hatton. He also wondered on what terms they would receive the young
foreigner, who was in every way so different from any other they ever
had met.

"Of course, they'll treat him all right, though," reflected Rob. "They
may think him funny and laugh at him a little, to begin with; but when I
tell 'em who he is in his own country, they'll be proud enough to have
him in the school. I'll have to keep him out of sight of the muckers,
though, at any rate till he gets some civilized clothes and learns how
to wear 'em."

Here Rob stared with a decidedly unfriendly scowl at the group of young
gamblers on the village common, across which he was walking. "Wouldn't
it just be pie for them to get hold of him, blue dress, pig-tail, and
all?" he reflected; "and wouldn't he think he'd run up against a war
party of American Indians, ready to scalp him? They won't have a chance
at him, though, not if I know it."

Here Rob straightened himself, clinched his unoccupied hand, and held
his head higher than ever, for there is nothing that so increases one's
sense of importance as to have a weaker person dependent upon him.

There was much bitterness of feeling existing between two classes of
Hatton boys, one of which was more or less connected with the factory,
while the other attended the academy for which the village was famous.
The latter called their enemies "muckers," and these retorted with the
term "saphead." Members of these opposed factions always exchanged
sneers and taunts upon meeting, and sometimes these led to blows that
resulted in fierce conflicts. None of these fights had taken place on
the common, however, for the village constable had declared it to be
neutral ground, and threatened with dire punishment any boy who should
break the public peace within its limits. As the constable generally was
somewhere in the vicinity of the common, ready to enforce his ruling, it
had been obeyed thus far, and both the boyish factions had used the open
space as a playground in apparent harmony. So Rob Hinckley only scowled
at the muckers, who occupied one corner of the common as he crossed it
that morning, while they, in turn, pretended ignorance of his presence.

On his return, however, affairs had assumed a very different aspect,
and as Rob drew near the common he pricked up his ears at the sounds
that came to him from that ordinarily peaceful enclosure. "What could
they mean? Were the muckers fighting among themselves?" Rob believed
they were, and chuckled at thought of what Constable Jones would do when
he discovered them. This belief was strengthened as he came within sight
of the fracas, for at first he could only see a lot of yelling muckers,
apparently engaged in a furious struggle. Then he uttered an exclamation
of dismay, and the hot blood flew to his face. In the very centre of the
surging crowd he saw a slender, blue-clad figure, taller than any of
those swarming about it, and realized that the very thing he most had
dreaded in connection with his newly made friend from China had come to
pass. Chinese Jo, whom he had thought to be peacefully and safely asleep
in the parsonage, evidently had left it unnoticed, and at once had
fallen into the hands of the most merciless of American savages.

With a hoarse yell of rage, and careless of what might happen to
himself, Rob sprang forward, swinging the milk-can above his head as he
ran. So busy were the tormentors of the Chinese lad with their sport
that the coming of a would-be rescuer was unnoticed until he was close
upon them. As poor Jo lost his footing and fell, Rob dashed into the
mêlée, dealing telling blows with his milk-can, and scattering the horde
of young toughs as though he had been a charge of cavalry. The stopper
flew out of the can, and its contents were flung to right and left,
impartially drenching friend and foe. Thus, for a minute, the tide of
battle flowed with the righteously wrathful Rob and against the cowardly
and unrighteous muckers. Then one of the latter, who had not yet been
reached by the deadly milk-can, and so could view the proceedings more
calmly than could his companions, shouted:

[Illustration: "AS POOR JO LOST HIS FOOTING AND FELL, ROB DASHED INTO
THE MÊLÉE"]

"There ain't but one saphead, fellers! Go for him! Kill him! He ain't no
good!"

The cry was heard and obeyed. In spite of the demoralizing effects
of the milk-can, the muckers rallied, and in another moment affairs
would have gone very badly with both our lads. But providentially
sent peace-makers were at hand, and, ere the enemy could rally to an
attack, they were put to ignominious flight by overwhelming forces that
simultaneously appeared upon the field of battle from two sides. Parson
Hinckley and Constable Jones had arrived in the nick of time.

"What is the meaning of this disgraceful exhibition, Robert?" demanded
the former, sternly, as the flight of the enemy revealed his nephew,
flushed, breathless, hatless, swinging a badly battered tin can in one
hand, and with milk streaming from every part of his figure.

"Yes," chimed in Constable Jones, wrathfully, "what does it mean? You
can't say that you didn't know my orders again' scrimmaging on the
common; and yet here you be, caught red-handed in the very act."

"I'd call it 'white-handed,'" replied Rob, with a grin, at the same time
holding out a grimy, milk-dripping paw.

"I don't want no sass, young feller, but a plain statement of facts,"
retorted the constable, sharply.

"Well," replied Rob, "all I know is this: That gang of muckers were
killing my friend, just because he happens to be a Chinese, and I got
here just in time to save him."

"Chinee, is he?" queried the constable, gazing curiously at the lad whom
Mr. Hinckley was assisting to his feet. "Looks like he'd been doing some
killing on his own hook," he added, quickly, as he caught sight of the
small mucker who had become involved in Jo's fall, and who still lay
motionless on the ground. He had been knocked breathless, but, as the
constable knelt beside him and lifted his head, the boy gasped. Then he
opened his eyes.

"I'm kilt, and de Chink done it," he murmured, indistinctly.

"It looks like rather a serious case, parson," said the constable,
solemnly; "more especial as there's a heathen Chinee mixed into it. I
believe it's my duty to arrest all parties concerned, and hold 'em for
examination by Square Burtis."

"You needn't arrest these two," replied Mr. Hinckley, indicating Jo and
his nephew, "for I am just as anxious for an investigation into this
affair as you can be. It is my belief that a most wanton outrage has
been perpetrated, for which the guilty parties should be punished, and
I give you my word that both these lads shall appear with me before
Justice Burtis whenever summoned to do so."

By this time curious spectators were beginning to gather. The dispersed
muckers, reinforced by others of their kind, were shouting taunts and
derisive epithets from a safe distance, and, rather than invite further
trouble, the constable hastily agreed to the minister's proposition. So
he departed in one direction, taking with him the small tough, and thus
diverting to himself the unpleasant attention of that element among the
rapidly increasing spectators.

A number of those who remained walked towards the parsonage with Mr.
Hinckley and his companions, plying them with questions and gazing
curiously at the tattered young Chinese, who, frightened and unhappy,
walked silently between his friends. Realizing that this was neither the
time nor place for explanations, Rob's uncle did not demand any, but,
cautioning the boys not to talk, replied to all questions that the whole
affair would shortly be investigated in court.

When they reached the parsonage, and Mrs. Hinckley, in the back of the
house, heard their voices, she called out:

"Is that you, Rob? I'm glad, for I want some milk, right away."

"Here it is, Aunt Alice," answered the boy, presenting himself with his
battered tin can, a little ruefully, but at the same time with a twinkle
in his eyes, at the kitchen door.

"Good gracious, Rob! What has happened?" cried the astonished woman.

"Only a little scrap, Aunt Alice, that I couldn't help getting into on
Jo's account."

"Was that China boy mixed up in it? But, of course, he was. I've felt it
from the first that he'd make trouble."

"But it wasn't his fault, Aunt Alice; I'm sure of that," asserted Rob,
earnestly. "He was being shamefully abused by the muckers, who came
mighty near killing him."

The next half-hour, with breakfast entirely forgotten, was devoted to
explanations, and, by the end of that time, the whole affair was pretty
thoroughly understood. Jo's sufferings at the hands of his tormentors
had the one good effect of transforming Mrs. Hinckley's mistrust of him
into a warm sympathy that afterwards developed into a real liking for
the gentle fellow.

A little later, while they were at breakfast, came the expected summons
for Mr. Hinckley, his nephew Robert Hinckley, and a Chinese lad known
to be an inmate of the parsonage, to appear at ten o'clock that very
morning in Justice Burtis's court-room for examination in connection
with the recent fracas on Hatton common.

While Mr. Hinckley went to see the justice and prefer charges against
several of the young muckers, whose names had been given him by Rob, for
assaulting his ward, Joseph Lee, the two lads changed their clothing
and prepared to make a respectable appearance in court. While they
were thus engaged, Rob, to the delight of both of them, found his early
knowledge of Chinese returning to him so rapidly that he was able to
understand much of what Jo said.

Acting on Mr. Hinckley's advice, the latter arrayed himself in his
very richest robes, and Mrs. Hinckley's sympathy so far overcame her
prejudice that, when she discovered him making a sorry attempt to do up
his queue, she offered to braid it for him.

"To think that I ever should do such a thing!" she exclaimed. "But, Rob,
what do you suppose he wants all this white stuff worked into it for?"
she added. "I'm sure his pig-tail is long enough without it."

The white stuff thus referred to was some strands of silk braid and a
silken tassel, and, after asking Jo concerning it, Rob explained to his
aunt that, as white is the Chinese color for mourning, their young guest
wore it in memory of his mother, who had died less than a year before.

"Poor fellow!" said Mrs. Hinckley. "But what a very curious custom!"

At length both lads were pronounced presentable, each according to the
fashion of his own country, and, Mr. Hinckley having returned, the whole
family set forth towards the little building in which Justice of the
Peace Burtis held court.

"It is not of my first day the manner I had expected to spend it," Jo
confided to Rob, as they walked down the street.

"I should say not!" replied the latter.




CHAPTER IV

A TRIUMPH FOR JO'S ENEMIES


The little court-room was already crowded when our party reached it,
and Jo's appearance created a sensation. The muckers and their friends,
many of whom were on hand, scowled at him, and made sneering remarks
concerning his country, his costume, and especially about his queue,
which seemed, more than anything else, to excite their animosity. On
the other hand, the better class of spectators were impressed by the
intelligence shown in the lad's face, his air of high breeding, and by
the richness of his dress, which was much handsomer than anything of the
kind ever before seen in Hatton.

Mr. Hinckley was the first witness examined, and he told of the Chinese
lad's coming to America, and why he had done so. Then Jo himself was
called to the stand, and, with Rob acting as interpreter, he gave
his account of the recent fracas, a simple statement that drew forth
indignant murmurs from the better class of spectators. After that the
witness-stand was occupied by several of the young toughs who had
participated in the affair. Their accounts of what had happened were
confused and contradictory, but in general were to the effect that they
were only looking at the stranger who had so unexpectedly appeared,
running down the village street, and laughing a little at his pig-tail;
that he had flown into a violent rage, and had flung one of their number
to the ground, where he endeavored to choke him to death. They further
testified that while they were trying to save their comrade's life by
dragging the enraged heathen off from him, they suddenly were set upon
by Rob Hinckley, who severely beat and seriously wounded several of them
with a milk-can before they could escape from his furious and unprovoked
attack. In support of this testimony, the boy who had been involved in
Jo's fall was produced and allowed to tell his story, as were several
who bore marks of Rob's effective weapon. A statement from the constable
was then heard, and it served so to strengthen the testimony just taken
that, when Mr. Jones finished his story and an adjournment until two
o'clock was ordered, the case of our friends looked very black. Nor did
it brighten during the afternoon session, for Rob could not swear that
he had seen any specific act of violence committed by any one of those
who had surrounded the young Chinese on the common. Mr. Hinckley also
failed to help the case, for he was forced to admit that when he reached
the scene of trouble the alleged assailants of the Chinese lad were in
full flight before his nephew, and that, while they were rallying to
an attack, he did not see them commit any overt act. He also was made
to describe the relative positions of Jo and the boy who had shared
his fall, and, as his testimony on this point agreed with all that had
preceded, excepting that of Jo himself, it served still further to
strengthen the cause of the muckers.

After this the only effort made to help what evidently was a weak case
was Mrs. Hinckley's description of Jo's appearance when he reached home,
together with her production of the tattered blue gown he had worn. Her
story seemed to produce a good effect upon the justice, until, taking
the garment into his own hands for examination, he said:

"Madam, this coat, or dress, or whatever it may be called, seems to
be badly stained and still is damp. Can you tell me by what fluid it
has been saturated? Is it, by any chance, blood from the veins of this
Joseph Lee, and caused to flow by the ill treatment he is alleged to
have suffered?"

"No," replied Mrs. Hinckley, shortly; "it's milk."

This answer was greeted by a roar of laughter from the crowded
court-room, and, when quiet had with some difficulty been restored, the
justice announced his decision:

"The examination of witnesses in this case," he said, "will proceed no
further, as the testimony already submitted is more than sufficient to
warrant me in committing the principals for trial at the next session
of the county court. Moreover, as the case has assumed an aspect so
much more serious than I had anticipated, I am obliged to bind over
Robert Hinckley and Joseph Lee in the sum of five hundred dollars each
for appearance before said court. I shall require these bonds in each
case to be signed by two responsible tax-payers of this district. If
such signatures cannot be procured, Robert Hinckley and Joseph Lee will
be confined in the county jail until the time for their trial shall
arrive. Also, pending the execution of said bonds, they are remanded to
the custody of the Hatton village constable, who is hereby charged with
their safe-keeping."

"Whew!" ejaculated Rob under his breath. "Prisoners! Jail! In custody!
That sounds worse than any scrape I ever got into before; and what a
lovely beginning for Jo's experience of free America!"

The decision was hailed with jubilation by the muckers and their
friends, who, as they streamed into the open air, gave vent to their
feelings through derisive yells and taunting remarks concerning
"pig-tails" and "sapheads."

Jo, who until now had watched the proceedings with grave curiosity,
though with but slight understanding of what was taking place, was
made to realize by these sounds of rejoicing from the other side that
something had gone wrong, and he glanced inquiringly towards his friend.

"Yes," said Rob, speaking in fragmentary but intelligible Chinese, "the
case has gone against us so far, and you and I must go to prison unless
some one will put up the money to keep us out."

"My father is a mandarin, and can furnish enough money to buy my freedom
from any foreign prison," exclaimed Jo, with flushing cheeks.

"Yes, of course," replied Rob; "but in this case it happens that only
American money will be accepted."

"Then let me go to prison," said Jo, proudly, "for my father does not
choose that I should incur obligations."

So determined was the Chinese lad upon this course that even when Mr.
Hinckley had arranged the bond business with some of his friends, and
the boys were free to depart, it was with the greatest difficulty that
he could be persuaded to leave the court-room. Only after Rob had
repeatedly assured him that Mr. Hinckley was acting as agent for his
father, who, in the end, would be called upon to meet all expenses
connected with the trial, did the proud young chap consent to accompany
his friends to their home.

Although the case thus far seemed to have gone against our lads, it
had the good result of arousing much interest in Jo and creating many
friends for him among the best people of Hatton. Thus many times the
amount of the bonds demanded by Justice Burtis had promptly been
forth-coming the moment his decision was rendered. That evening the
parsonage was crowded with those who wished to tender sympathy and
friendship to the young stranger who had received so cruel a reception
in the land that had promised so much, and to whose honor he had so
trustingly confided.

The young Chinese was made to feel almost happy, and much of his
homesickness vanished as Rob translated the friendly sentiments of his
visitors, and he realized that, in spite of his recent experience,
America did contain people of kindly disposition, who held honor
and fair dealing in esteem. Thus the darkness that had so heavily
overshadowed this first day in his new home was decidedly lightened
before its end; and he went to bed that night possessing a wealth of new
experience in which evil and good were very nearly balanced.

The following day was largely devoted to procuring for Jo a complete
outfit of American clothes, and in teaching him to wear them. For a time
these rendered him very miserable. Never had his legs seemed so long or
so conspicuous as they now appeared, divested of skirts and encased in
trousers. Never before had he worn garments fitting him so closely that
he doubted if they would allow him to eat enough to satisfy his hunger,
and he was surprised to find that he still could draw a full breath. He
was amazed at the number of pockets they contained, since never, until
now, had he possessed even one, and he wondered what he should find to
put in them. He approved of a hat that shaded his eyes, but felt most
noisy and uncomfortable in the harsh leather shoes that replaced his own
of cloth.

But all these troubles were insignificant when compared with the great
grief that came to him that same day. It was nothing more nor less
than the loss of his cherished queue, which both Mr. Hinckley and Rob
advised, and almost insisted, should be cut off.

"It is the distinguishing mark of my nationality," he pleaded, "and
without it people might take me for a Japanese, or even for a Korean.
Also, it is a symbol of loyalty to my emperor, for in China every man
without a queue is regarded as a rebel, and is liable to lose his head.
Without it I should feel ashamed to look my friends in the face. No, I
cannot give it up!"

When all this was interpreted to Mr. Hinckley, he replied:

"Tell him that, while I realize the force of what he says, I still must
urge him to make the sacrifice. After all, the wearing of the queue is
comparatively recent in China. Jo's ancestors of less than three hundred
years ago did not wear them; nor did they shave their heads, that custom
being forced upon them by their Manchu, or Tartar, conquerors, early
in the seventeenth century. The latter wore the queue, or horse-tail,
depending from their heads, and long coat-sleeves, shaped at the end
like horses' hoofs, to show that they were horsemen; and when they
conquered China they compelled their new subjects to adopt both these
features. Now, as Jo says, to discard the queue in China is a sign of
rebellion against the government; but it cannot be so considered when a
Chinese is in a foreign land, and subject to great inconvenience, not
to say danger, if he does not conform to the customs of the country in
which he resides. Here, for instance, if Jo persists in wearing his
queue with an American costume, it will render him very conspicuous and
liable to constant ridicule, if not insult and abuse, from ignorant
or vicious members of the community, while without it he rarely will
attract unusual attention. When he is ready to return to his own land,
he again can allow it to grow, and can supplement it with a false braid
until it shall have attained a suitable length. Many Americans residing
in China have adopted the native costume, including the queue, in order
to render themselves inconspicuous; and why should not the process be
reversed by Chinese residing in this country?"

These arguments finally so prevailed that poor Jo, with a heavy heart
and tear-filled eyes, allowed the shears to despoil him of what he
considered his chief and most becoming adornment. As the heavy braid of
glossy hair was severed he exclaimed:

"Now even my own father would not know me, and my wife would no longer
render me obedience!"

"Your wife!" cried Rob. "What _do_ you mean? You can't have a wife! Why,
you aren't any older than I am."

"Certainly, I have a wife," replied Jo, composedly. "We were selected
for each other when I was ten years of age; and, as my father wanted a
person to look after his house, we were married the day before I left
home."

"But she must be a little girl," objected Rob.

"Oh no. She is older than I, and quite grown up."

"Is she pretty?" persisted the other, curiously, "and are you very fond
of her?"

"No, I am not fond of her at all; for, you see, I don't know her; and
I don't think she even is good-looking. Of course I can't tell, though,
for I have seen her only once, and then her face was so hidden by the
wedding-paint that I have no idea how she would look without it."

"Well!" exclaimed Rob; "you Chinese certainly are funny!"




CHAPTER V

THREATENED VIOLENCE


The next two months passed quickly, and were full of interesting
happenings for our lads. Although the academy was closed, and many of
its students were away for the summer, there were a number of Rob's
friends left in Hatton, and these promptly taking Jo's side as against
the muckers, became his friends as well. In fact, it is doubtful if
anything could have advanced him so speedily in the estimation of the
better class of Hatton boys than his ill treatment at the hands of their
avowed enemies. It alone was sufficient to induce them to make much of
him from the outset; but in a very short time they learned to like him
for his own good qualities.

He always was a gentleman, polite, courteously attentive when spoken
to, and invariably good-natured. Then, too, his taper fingers were
marvellously deft in making things out of paper, wood, or clay, such as
dragons looking fierce enough to eat one, puzzles at once simple and
baffling, flutelike whistles, and other instruments for the production
of sounds more or less musical. He also constructed innumerable kites of
grotesque animal forms, and he always was willing to show his boyish
friends just how these wonders were produced.

They, in turn, taught him the things known almost instinctively by
every American boy, and especially by those who live in the country,
but of which our Chinese lad had no knowledge--such as swimming,
boxing, rowing, how to camp out like Indians, and, above all, how to
play the distinctively American game of baseball. To these fascinating
novelties Jo took as readily as a young duck takes to water; for, with
his hair cut short, instead of hanging in a braid down his back, and
with a radical change of apparel, his whole character seemed to have
undergone a transformation, and he now entered as heartily into the
rough-and-tumble sports of his new associates as though to the manner
born. To be sure, he was ridiculously awkward at first, and made such
funny breaks as to excite the uproarious mirth of the other fellows; but
he didn't seem to mind this a bit, and always joined heartily in a laugh
at his own expense.

The thing they teased him most about was his wife, for the fact of his
being married had seemed too good a joke for Rob to keep to himself.
Even this, however, did not appear to annoy the young husband, for a
Chinese marriage is so entirely different from one in America that there
is no trace of sentiment connected with it. The most important feature
of Chinese life is the worship of one's ancestors, and this worship may
only properly be performed by the head of a family. Thus, to provide for
the suitable worship of their own spirits, in case of untimely death,
parents are anxious to have their sons married as early in life as is
possible. Such marriages are purely business transactions, arranged by
the elders, and with which the young people have nothing to do except to
be on hand at the appointed time. Even this is not essential in the case
of the bridegroom, so long as the bride is delivered, as per agreement,
at his father's house. He may be on a journey, or undergoing a scholar's
examination, or engaged in some other important business that may not
be interrupted for so trifling an incident as his wedding, which,
therefore, is allowed to proceed without him. As he never is permitted
to see his future wife or to learn anything concerning her during their
betrothal, he cannot be expected to take a great personal interest in
her, or she in him. Thus it happened that Jo was quite as willing to
accept, good-naturedly, teasing remarks concerning his marriage as he
was those called forth by any other customs of his people that struck
his new companions as ridiculous.

He had one possession that excited their sincere admiration, not to say
their envy, and this was a wonderful memory. Having been trained from
earliest childhood to commit to memory columns and pages of Chinese
characters, and not only pages but entire volumes of the Chinese
classics, our young scholar now took up the acquisition of English as a
mere pastime. The alphabet was conquered in a single day; several pages
of short words, together with their meanings, in another; and by the
end of a week he was reading easy sentences. Rob was his first teacher,
and, of course, his knowledge of Chinese was of the greatest assistance
to Jo in gaining the meanings of the English words that he so readily
learned to recognize by sight and sound.

Thus it happened that when the time arrived for his trial in the county
court he was able to give his own version of the fracas on Hatton common
in intelligible English without the aid of an interpreter.

In spite of the fact that Mr. Hinckley had employed able counsel to
defend the boys, the case was decided against them, and they were
sentenced to pay heavy fines in addition to the costs of the trial.

"It is an outrageous and unjust decision," said Mr. Hinckley to his
lawyer, "and I will never submit to it so long as there is a higher
court to which the case may be taken. I desire, therefore, that you move
for an appeal, and continue to give it your most earnest attention."

"Very well, sir," was the reply; "of course, I will do so; but I must
warn you that there is little hope of such a suit as yours being won in
any American court. It is prejudiced from the outset by the existing
strong feeling against the Chinese. For them it is almost impossible to
obtain justice, even with the bulk of evidence in their favor, which, in
the present instance, even you must admit is not the case."

In spite of what the lawyer said, Mr. Hinckley was determined to carry
the contest to a higher court, and, the motion for an appeal being
granted, the case of State _vs._ Joseph Lee _et al._ was carried to a
superior court, in which the earliest date set for a hearing was four
months from that time.

In the mean time the muckers of Hatton and their friends were wildly
jubilant over the victory already gained. During the evening of the
day on which the decision of the county court had been rendered, they
gathered about a great bonfire at the lower end of the village, where
they listened to incendiary speeches against the Chinese and all who
befriended them. These were received with yells of applause and ominous
threats of violence.

While this was going on at one end of the village, a number of Mr.
Hinckley's friends were discussing the situation in the parsonage at
the other. All at once Rob, who had been doing some scouting on his own
responsibility, broke into the room where these gentlemen were sitting.

"They're coming, Uncle Will!" he cried, breathlessly, "and they swear
they'll run Jo out of the village. They are talking about tar and
feathers, too."

Mr. Hinckley sprang to his feet. "My friends," he said, "if you will
stand by me in this emergency I think the evil may be averted; but
if you cannot see your way to so doing, I must hasten to remove the
innocent lad committed to my charge beyond the reach of danger. What do
you say? Speak quick, for there is not a moment to lose."

"We will stand by you," replied one and another, "and there are plenty
more who will do so, too. Our village must not be disgraced by scenes of
lawless violence."

"Then," said Mr. Hinckley, "hasten and gather the neighbors. Let each
man be back here within five minutes, bringing another with him. I will
try to find Constable Jones, and urge him--"

"Here I be, parson," interrupted a voice from the doorway, "and I've
telegraphed the sheriff that there's a show for trouble. He's answered
that he'll be here inside of an hour, and for us to try and keep 'em
entertained till he comes."

"Good!" exclaimed Mr. Hinckley. "I rather think we can."

Five minutes later, when a noisy throng of men and boys came surging up
the street, the lower part of the parsonage, opposite which they halted,
was so brilliantly lighted that they could see a numerous company of
gentlemen assembled inside. They barely had time to realize that the
house thus was occupied, when, suddenly, every light was extinguished
and it stood in silent darkness. For a moment the new-comers, just now
so valiantly loud-mouthed, waited in silence to see what would happen
next. Then they began to murmur, and the murmurs grew into shouts of:

"Fetch out your Chinee!"

"We'll teach him English!"

"Down with the rat-eaters!" and a confusion of other cries, at once
derisive and threatening.

As the mob, inflamed by these utterances, and urged on by its
self-constituted leaders, crowded about the entrance to the front yard,
it was met by Constable Jones, who leaned negligently against one of the
gate-posts.

"Hello!" he exclaimed. "What do you fellows want here?"

"We want to see Parson Hinckley," answered a spokesman.

"Well, you'll have to call again to-morrow, or some other day, for he's
busy just now and can't see you."

"Oh, he carn't, carn't he? I rather guess he'll see us before we git
ready to leave. Come on, fellers!"

"Stand back!" shouted the constable as the crowd surged towards the
gate. "I have instructions from the owner of these premises not to admit
any one to them this night. As this is private property, and I'm bound
to protect the owner in his rights, the first man attempting to enter
will be arrested for trespass."

This announcement was greeted with howls of derision, and it seemed
as though Constable Jones was about to have on his hands the job of
arresting the entire mob, when another halt was called by the voice of
Mr. Hinckley, who came from the house to the front gate as though to
investigate the trouble.

"What is going on here, Constable Jones? Who are these people, and what
do they want?" he asked, loud enough for all to hear.

"Want to see you, parson; so they say."

"Well, my friends, what is it? I am too busy for an extended
conversation; but if you can tell me in a few words what you desire, I
am ready to listen."

"Yes, we can," answered one of the leaders, gruffly. "We want the
murdering, heathen Chinee that you're a-keeping in your house agin the
law. We're agoin' to have him, too, an' run him out er town."

"Against the law!" repeated Mr. Hinckley. "What do you mean? I am not
harboring any person against the law, that I know of."

"Yes, you be, fer the law says all Chinesesers must be excluded, and
we're going to enforce it, by excluding the one you've brought to Hatton
in spite of the law."

For ten minutes Mr. Hinckley held the crowd at bay by his arguments,
and his exhortations not to disgrace themselves, their State, and their
country, by committing an act of lawless violence; but finally they
would listen to him no longer, and again a rush was made for the gate.

This time it was checked by a new voice, the stern tones of which were
well known to all of them, for it belonged to the owner of the great
shops in which so many of them earned their daily bread. "Hold on, men!"
he cried, "and listen to me. I don't think I need tell you who I am,
or that I will do as I say, for you all know me, and you know that I
never yet broke a promise. For many years you and I have lived in this
village of Hatton. In all that time we have carried on business together
in orderly fashion, to my satisfaction, and, I hope, to yours. We have
had differences, but always have managed to settle them without calling
in outside aid. Now, however, you are threatening me, as well as this
entire community, with something to which I cannot and will not submit.
You are threatening this village with mob rule, a condition under which
no community can exist and no business can be conducted. Therefore I
give you my solemn word that if a single act of lawless violence against
life or property is committed this night by a man or woman, boy or
girl employed in the Hatton shops, those same shops shall be closed
to-morrow, never to be reopened."

"That's all bluff!" cried a voice from the crowd, as the speaker uttered
this threat.

"What do we care fer him or fer his talk?" demanded one who had
constituted himself a leader. "There's a-plenty of us here as don't work
in his shops to see this business through; so come on, lads, and don't
fool away any more time talking. Hurray for American rights, and down
with all Chinese scabs!"

At this the mob uttered a howl and leaped forward, not only putting to
flight the little group holding the parsonage gate, but tearing down the
fence and swarming up to the very door of the house.




CHAPTER VI

THE SHERIFF TAKES PROMPT MEASURES


Sheriff Hardy, of Hat County, was a fearlessly resolute man, possessed
of great bodily strength and of a coolness in times of excitement that
admirably fitted him for his difficult position, and he had constant
need to exercise all these qualities, for his was a manufacturing
county, having a large population of recently Americanized foreigners,
who held in scant respect laws not enforced by a military power always
in evidence.

On the evening of the trouble in Hatton, Constable Jones's message
found the sheriff quietly smoking a cigar on the porch of his house at
the county seat, some miles from the place where his presence was so
urgently required. Two minutes later he was on horseback and galloping
towards the scene of disturbance. Reaching the Hatton parsonage within
half an hour, he entered it by a back door, and at once swore in as
special deputies the gentlemen whom he found there assembled, and
undecided, not having authority, as to how they should act in the
present emergency. Then Sheriff Hardy stepped to the front porch, took a
survey of the situation, and for a minute listened to the significant
interchange of remarks between the owner of the shops and the leaders of
the mob.

He was there when the crowd tore down the fence and made their rush
towards the house. Until this moment they had not suspected his
presence, but now, at the sound of his sharp "Halt!" their advance was
checked as effectually as though it had encountered a twenty-foot stone
wall.

"Stand where you are!" he commanded. "Any man who advances so much as a
single step farther will be arrested. I am not going to ask what you are
doing here, nor the meaning of this cowardly demonstration against the
peace. I already have heard enough to fully understand the situation.
You are proposing to injure and otherwise abuse a person who is legally
an inmate of this house."

"He's a heathen Chinee," muttered some one in the crowd.

"I don't care if he's a blue monkey," replied the sheriff, sharply,
"so long as he is here with the sanction of the law, he is entitled to
legal protection, and he is going to have it, too, just so long as I am
sheriff of Hat County. Some of you Dagoes seem to think there isn't any
law in this country, but I'll teach you that there is plenty of law,
with ample provision for enforcing it. Now I've wasted all the time I
mean to on you, and school is dismissed; so, 'bout face, and clear out
of here. You want to be spry, too, for in just one minute I am going to
march down that street with a posse of armed deputies, sworn to obey
orders, and ordered to arrest any anarchist who attempts to obstruct
their passage. I may add that they can shoot, too; and, if necessary,
will shoot. That's all."

As the mob, breaking into angry murmurs, still hesitated to move,
Sheriff Hardy called out, so that all might hear:

"Posse, attention! Fall in! Come on!"

Then, as the tramp of many feet sounded on the porch, he leaped from
it, and his impatient followers sprang after him. The next minute they
were charging down the main street behind a panic-stricken mob in full
flight, and Hatton's short-lived reign of terror was ended.

After this, Mr. Hinckley, acting upon the sheriff's advice, which
coincided with his own inclination, did not seek to secure Jo's safety
by sending him away from Hatton, but kept him there in attendance at the
academy, where the other fellows, under Rob's leadership, acted as a
body-guard for his protection.

"It is too bad that I make so much bobble," said the Chinese lad to his
friend one day. "Mebbe better if I go my own country."

"Oh, rot!" replied Rob, who at times found difficulty in expressing his
feelings other than by the use of slang. "It would just be pie for the
muckers to have you cut away, and they would claim game on the strength
of it. As for you making trouble, I call it fun, and so do the other
fellows. Why, I've never known so much life in the academy as has been
put into it by your coming. Same time, you can't say you aren't getting
good by being here, for I never heard of anybody learning as fast as
you do. I'm not the only one that's on to it, either; for I heard old
Puff--excuse me, I mean Professor Puffer--say the same thing only
yesterday. Besides, you couldn't go away till after our trial, anyhow,
for we are under bonds to appear, and it would simply mean ruin to Uncle
Will if you didn't show up."

"That tlial," answered Jo, who had not yet fully conquered the
difficulty encountered by all Chinese who come into contact with the
letter _r_, "makes for me much bitterness and plenty 'fraid. In my
country we say, 'Better it is to die than go in law-suit.'"

"Oh, pshaw!" answered Rob. "It isn't that way in America. Everybody here
seems to get mixed up in some sort of a law-suit sooner or later, and
not worry much about it, either. As for ours, it'll come out all right;
you see if it don't. I'm not fretting."

When, in the early winter, the eventful day set for the trial of the now
famous case of State _vs._ Joseph Lee _et al._ arrived, it seemed as
though half Hatton was determined to be on hand. Court was held in the
city of S----, distant only an hour's ride by train, so that the Hatton
spectators were able to go and return the same day.

Owing to the dragging length of the preceding case on the calendar,
that of our lads was not called on the first day of their appearance,
and they were forced to spend the night in a hotel, guarded by a
deputy. In this same hotel stayed the father of the young tough who
had incidentally been thrown to the ground with Jo during the long-ago
fracas that began all this trouble. When our lads, accompanied by their
guard, went down to supper, this man, together with another, sat where
he could see them, and, pointing to Jo, he said, viciously, but in a low
tone:

"That's him, and we'll make it worth your while to fix him."

"That well-dressed young fellow?" questioned the other, in a tone of
surprise. "He don't look any more like a Chinee than he does like a
Dago, and if you hadn't told me, I wouldn't have suspected it."

"No, they've trimmed him up to look almost civilized; but I wisht you'd
seen him when the fuss took place. He sure was a savage-appearing
heathen then."

"Um," said the other, meditatively; "changed his description, have they?
Well, if you can make it worth while, I'll see what can be done."

To the dismay of our lads and their friends, the trial, which occupied
the whole of the following day, was, in spite of the efforts of their
lawyer, but a repetition of the first one. Much additional testimony was
presented by the State, but nothing new had been forth-coming in their
behalf. So late in the day was the case closed that the judge withheld
his decision until the next morning; but no one had a doubt as to its
nature, and the muckers of Hatton held another jubilation that night
with bonfires and much noise.

Full accounts of the trial appeared in the morning papers, and our
friends read these with heavy hearts.

"Looks as though we stood a good chance of going to prison," remarked
Rob, gloomily. "It'll either be that or a whopping big fine that, I'm
afraid, Uncle Will can't raise. Maybe it'll be both."

"If my father were only here," said Jo, "he would make things all right
quick enough, by giving that mandarin judge much money."

"Oh, would he?" replied Rob. "That's all you know about American judges.
Such a scheme might work in China, but if your father should try it on
here he would be pretty apt to land himself in prison, alongside of
his son, and that son's 'accomplice,' as the papers now call me. We
Americans are a pretty tough lot, I'll admit, and our laws don't seem to
have much to do with justice, but I don't believe we've yet come to the
point of bribing our judges--that is, not to any great extent."

"But, Rob, my friend, it is for you that my heart is aching. For me
it makes no difference. When I am again free I will go back to my own
country as a hero, whose bad treatment here will only make my people
hate foreigners more than ever. But for you it will mean shame and much
sorrow, all caused by me."

"Now, don't you fret a little bit about that, old man," replied Rob,
stoutly. "There is no danger of me being disgraced by going to prison in
a good cause, in the eyes of any one whose opinion is worth anything.
I tell you, honestly, that, so long as you are in this scrape, I'm glad
to be in it with you; for it will show that if Americans are sometimes
unjust, it is not only to foreigners, but to their own people as well."

So greatly was interest in the case stimulated by the published reports
that, on the second day of the trial, the court-room was crowded with
spectators. Most of these were hostile in sentiment to our lads and
were anxious to hear sentence pronounced, not only upon the Chinese,
who had dared assault an American, but upon the white lad who had
proved a traitor to his own people by assisting in the outrage. Another
attraction in the court-room that morning was a Chinese gentleman,
richly clad in his national costume, who entered with the judge, and
was accorded the honor of a seat on the bench. He was secretary to
the Chinese legation at Washington, hurriedly sent on by his chief to
inquire into this case and do everything possible for the relief of
his young countryman. Even after entering the court-room he continued
to speak to the judge; but the face of the latter remained sternly
impassive, as though, having made up his mind, nothing could change it.

When our lads were led to their seats they could nowhere see the lawyer
who was defending them, and they wondered at his absence; but he
appeared and took his place with other members of the bar just as court
was opening. He had no opportunity for communicating with them at that
moment, but he beamed upon them with a smiling countenance, for which
they could not account.

"Looks like a man grinning at his own funeral," whispered Rob to his
friend, who wondered how such a thing might be possible.

In another moment, however, his attention was drawn from this puzzle by
the opening of court, and by seeing their counsel rise to his feet.

"Your honor," said this gentleman, addressing the judge, "I beg leave to
petition that the case of State _vs._ Joseph Lee _et al._, concluded in
this court yesterday, be reopened for the admission of new and important
testimony in behalf of the defence. Only this morning has a witness been
discovered whose story will, I believe, completely reverse all previous
impressions gained during this momentous trial. In view of that fact
we earnestly pray that you will permit us to place this person on the
stand."

After listening to a demur from the district attorney, the court granted
this petition and reopened the case, whereupon the counsel for the
defence summoned to the witness-stand Miss Annabel Lorimer.




CHAPTER VII

THE SENTENCE OF THE COURT


As the court-crier, amid a breathless hush of expectation, loudly called
the name "Annabel Lorimer," a young girl, flushed with embarrassment,
but with brave, gray eyes, rose from a seat in the front row of
spectators and was escorted to the witness-stand by a gentleman,
who evidently was her father, and who remained near her during the
examination that followed. After she had sworn to tell the truth, the
whole truth, and nothing but the truth, had given her name, her place of
residence as that very city, and had blushingly admitted that, although
fifteen years of age, she was unmarried, she was asked to tell what she
knew of the case now on trial.

"We were going to Canada for the summer," she began, "so as to learn how
to travel and get ready for the great journey around the world that papa
and I are going to take this winter. So I went to Hatton to say good-bye
to my aunt Marjorie, who lives in a big, white house, just across from
the common. I could only stay one night, and had to leave on the very
earliest morning train. So I was up pretty early, and was dressing to
go down-stairs, when such shouting and laughing came from the street
that I looked out of the window. There were a lot of boys, all running,
and one of them was a Chinese. I never saw one before, but I knew he was
Chinese by his pig-tail and by his funny shoes, that were just like the
pictures."

"Can you tell how he was dressed?" asked Jo's lawyer.

"Yes, he had on a long, blue frock, without any waist-band."

"Like this?" suggested the lawyer, at the same time holding up the very
gown Jo had worn on that eventful morning.

"Yes, just the same; only at first it wasn't torn."

"Thank you. Now you may proceed with your story."

"Well, while I was looking I saw that the other boys were teasing the
Chinese boy, which seemed to me dreadfully mean, when he was all alone
in a strange place, especially when he stood still and began to look
frightened. Then some more big boys, who had been playing on the common,
came running over, and they all crowded around the Chinese boy and began
to abuse him."

"What do you mean by abusing him? What did they do?"

"Why, they hit him, and pushed him from one side to the other, and
pulled at his pig-tail, and ran round and round with it so as to make
him turn and get dizzy, and knocked off his cap, and did everything
horrid they could think of."

"What kind of boys were they?"

"Just the very kind that tie fire-crackers to poor dogs' tails, and kill
pussy-cats with stones, and--swear."

This last word the witness uttered with some hesitation and in a low
tone.

"Would you know any of those boys again if you should see them?"

"Yes, I'd know the two I see sitting over there," replied Annabel, at
the same time pointing to a group of the Hatton muckers who had been
retained in court as witnesses.

"How can you identify them?"

"Because the little one has such very red hair, and so many freckles,
and the other is so big and ugly looking; besides, he is the one who
knocked the Chinese boy down."

"How did he do that?"

"He butted him in the back with his head, while the little, speckled one
was pulling at his pig-tail in front, and they all went down together."

"Now tell me, Miss Lorimer, what the Chinese boy did all this time? Was
he very fierce, and did he strike at his assailants as if he were trying
to kill them?"

"Oh no, indeed! I'm sure he didn't, because I hoped all the time he
would. He only seemed horribly frightened, and kept trying to get away;
only they wouldn't let him."

"Did you see any of the other boys throw anything at him?"

"Yes, mud--lots of it--and stones; and they tore his clothes until he
was a sight."

"Please tell the court what happened after the Chinese boy had been
knocked down."

"I object to that expression," interposed the district attorney, who was
conducting the case for the State; "the witness has expressly stated
that the fall in question was caused by a push and not by a blow. She
also has testified that three individuals went to the ground at the same
time, and we already know from recorded testimony in this case, that the
greatest sufferer from the effects of this fall was not the Chinaman,
but the very smallest and weakest of those whom my learned friend is
pleased to stigmatize as 'assailants,' although it has been repeatedly
and conclusively proved during this trial that they were the assailed.
Therefore I object to the expression 'knocked down.'"

"Objection admitted," growled the judge.

"Very well," said Jo's lawyer, "since the expression 'knocked down' is
objectionable, it is withdrawn; and you may tell us, Miss Lorimer, what
happened after my young client was hurled to the ground."

"Your honor, I object," broke in the district attorney.

"Objection overruled," said the judge, sharply, "and I insist that the
testimony of this young lady must not be interrupted by squabbles over
technicalities."

"After my young client was _hurled to the ground_," continued Jo's
lawyer, triumphantly, "with the biggest and ugliest-looking of his
assailants on top of him, tell us, Miss Lorimer, what happened next?"

"The big boy scrambled to his feet, and just then Rob Hinckley came
along with a milk-can and drove them all away, and the milk flew all
over everybody. Then Mr. Hinckley and Constable Jones came; but after
that I didn't see any more, because the breakfast-bell rang, and I was
so late that I had to get dressed as quick as I could."

"That is all, your honor, and the other side is welcome to our witness,"
said Jo's lawyer.

"Why did you not come forward sooner to testify in this case, Miss
Lorimer, since you seem so greatly interested in it?" queried the
district attorney.

"Because I didn't know anything about it until this morning. Then papa
read about it in the paper, and said he had no doubt that if the truth
were known it would turn out that the Chinese boy had been wantonly
abused by a lot of cowardly young ruffians, just because he was weak
and helpless, which was getting more and more to be the American way
of doing things. I didn't like to hear him say that, and told him I
believed I had seen that very trouble the morning I was in Hatton; only
I had forgotten all about it, because so many other things began to
happen that same day, and have been happening ever since. I said, if
those were the same boys, they were not real, true Americans at all, but
just a lot of mean imitations, and if the law people only knew what I
did, they would punish them instead of Rob Hinckley, and the Chinese
boy who had been abused. He asked what I meant, and I told him all I
could remember. Then he telephoned to that gentleman (pointing to Jo's
lawyer), who came to the house and asked me questions. Then we drove
here in a carriage, because it was late. So if you punish anybody, I
hope it will be those wicked imitation American boys; because one time
that big, ugly looking one set his dog on my tortoise-shell kitty when
we were visiting Aunt Marjorie, and threw stones at her when she ran up
a tree, and would have killed her if Rob Hinckley hadn't made him stop."

"So you already were prejudiced against the boy, whom you describe as
'ugly looking,' before you saw him in collision with this Chinaman."

"I don't know what you mean," replied Annabel; "but, of course, I hated
him, and knew just what he would do when he found a China-boy, or any
one else he could abuse without a chance of getting hurt himself. He did
it, too, and now I hope he'll be shut up in prison forever and ever."

"Your honor," said the district attorney, with a well-satisfied smile;
"I think the animus of this witness is sufficiently shown by that
statement, which I shall allow to go on record without comment. I
shall also pass, without attempt at refutation, her silly naming of
those naturalized citizens, who, with their brawn and muscle, their
unremitting industry and their sturdy independence, constitute the
strongest bulwark of our glorious republic, for she is but a child,
speaking from the ignorance of childhood. Thus we are well content to
rest our case upon the evidence, with a certain confidence that the
court, in its wisdom, will give us a verdict in accordance with the
facts."

With this the attorney sat down. The girl witness, wondering whether she
had most helped or harmed the cause she had espoused, was allowed to
take her seat, and Jo's lawyer rose to address the court.

"Your honor," he said, "I need not suggest to one so well versed
in proverbial philosophy, that truth, sometimes unpalatable, but
always bluntly outspoken, is a universally admitted characteristic of
childhood. Into the dark mazes of numberless famous law cases, as in the
one we now are concluding, has the revealing light of truth been thrown
by the untutored testimony of children. I could not wish a stronger
witness to the justice of our cause than the fearless little lady who
has just now given her evidence in our behalf. Upon it, therefore, we
confidently rest our cause, with a well-grounded conviction that it is
sufficient to assure a verdict in our favor."

As the lawyer sat down, our lads realized that the critical moment
in which their fate was to be decided had arrived; and they awaited
the words of the judge with mingled hope and anxiety. For a moment an
impressive silence reigned in the court-room, and all eyes were turned
upon the judge as he glanced over his pencilled notes. Finally he looked
up, removed his spectacles, and, fixing a kindly gaze upon the two
young men, said:

"It is hardly necessary to state that the unimpeachable testimony of
the last witness in the case of State _vs._ Joseph Lee _et al._ has
completely altered the point of view from which it must be regarded,
and causes the decision of the court to be quite different from what
it would have been yesterday. I now find the defendant, Joseph Lee,
to have been a victim instead of an aggressor, and to have suffered
shameful persecution at the hands of a mob of young ruffians, who have
been happily termed 'imitation Americans.' This term is most soothing
to the pride of all real Americans, who are unwilling to believe that
any of the true stock would dishonor the name by assaulting the helpless
and innocent. This being the situation, the decision of the court in
the case of Joseph Lee is that he be honorably acquitted of the charges
brought against him."

This decision was received with looks of scowling consternation by the
muckers present, and with murmurs of applause from the better class of
spectators. This quickly was silenced by the court officers, and the
judge continued:

"The case of Robert Hinckley, however, proves more serious, since it
is evident that he did make an assault with a weapon, and without the
excuse of self-defence, upon the bodies of certain persons named in
the indictment, who are entitled to legal redress for the same. Of
this offence the court, therefore, finds Robert Hinckley guilty and
sentences him"--at this point poor Rob turned very pale, while his
heart sank like lead--"to pay a fine," continued the judge, "of one cent
to each and every one of the aggrieved parties whose names appear in the
indictment. At the same time the court wishes to express its thanks to
Mr. Robert Hinckley for the fine manner in which, forgetful of his own
danger, he hastened to defend a helpless foreigner from persecution by a
set of unmitigated young scoundrels. Officer, call the next case on the
calendar."

"Oh!" gasped Rob, as the friends of our lads gathered about them with
congratulations at this happy ending of their troubles; "does he really
mean it?"

"Yes," replied the lawyer who had defended them, "he really means it,
and if you haven't two cents in your pocket, I'll pay the fine myself."




CHAPTER VIII

JO'S ENEMIES PREPARE A TRAP


After the happy conclusion of the law-suit that had for so long
disturbed their peace of mind, our lads left the court-room in company
with a group of congratulatory friends. As they went out, Rob exclaimed,
triumphantly, "I told you not to fret, Jo, and that everything would
turn out all right."

"Yes, but it is through the goodness of Miss Lolimer."

"Who?" inquired Rob, with a puzzled expression. "Oh, you mean Annabel!
Yes, isn't she fine? I say, Annabel, I don't know how we ever can thank
you enough for getting us out of that scrape. It was one of the most
plucky things I ever knew a girl to do."

"It wasn't half so plucky as the way you saved my 'turtle kitty' that
time; besides, I was so sorry for your friend, though I didn't know he
was your friend then."

"That's so. I forgot. Let me introduce him. Annabel--I mean Miss
Lorimer--this is my friend, Joseph Lee, from China, only all the fellows
call him Chinese Jo."

"I'm ever so glad to know you, Mr. Lee," said the girl, at the same
time making a prim little bow that was half curtsey. "I never met a
Chinese boy before, and I think they are awfully interesting. I mean,"
she added, quickly, and with a deep blush, "that we are going to China
sometime, papa and I, and we want so much to know about the queer people
out there. Not, of course, that you seem queer, because you are dressed
in civilized--Oh, dear, what a stupid I am! But won't both of you come
to our house for luncheon? Papa said I might ask you, and he is going to
invite Mr. Hinckley and that Chinese gentleman who sat with the judge.
Wasn't he perfectly splendid? Of course, I mean the judge, though the
other is lovely, too, in his beautiful clothes."

"My dear," interrupted Mr. Lorimer, "this is Mr. Secretary of Legation
Wang, who, together with Mr. Hinckley and, I trust, these young
gentlemen, will lunch with us."

Mr. Wang, who, being a graduate of Yale, was quite accustomed to
American ways, gravely shook hands with Annabel, as he also did with
Rob; but his exchange of greetings with his own young countryman was
quite different. Instead of shaking each other's hand and saying "How
do you do, Mr. Wang? Happy to meet you, Mr. Lee," as is the American
custom, they bowed profoundly to each other several times, all the while
clasping and shaking their own hands and uttering flowery compliments in
Chinese.

"How funny to shake one's own hand!" laughed Annabel, as she watched
with delight this novel interchange of courtesies.

"It does not seem funny in our country, Miss Lorimer," said Mr. Wang,
who had overheard the remark. "There all gentlemen, and ladies as well,
wear their finger-nails so long that there would be danger of cutting,
or at least scratching, each other's hands if they should exchange the
courteous salute in the American way. So we shake our own hands, to
avoid injuring those of our friends."

"But why do you wear your finger-nails so long?" asked Annabel. "I
should think it would be very uncomfortable, and that they would get
broken."

"It is an uncomfortable fashion, and a very silly one," replied Mr.
Wang. "The long nails are so apt to get broken, as you suggest, that
they often are protected by silver sheaths. The reason they are allowed
to grow long is to show that their wearers are not obliged to labor with
their hands. Chinese ladies for the same reason, or rather to show that
they are not obliged to walk, but can afford to be carried about by
servants, compress their feet until they are hopelessly and very nearly
helplessly crippled for life."

"How dreadful!" exclaimed Annabel.

"Yes. Is it not? But is it any more dreadful than certain things done
at fashion's decree in your own country? For instance, in Washington
I often see ladies dancing, or shivering through long dinners, in
low-necked and sleeveless gowns, which at the same time are so tightly
compressed at the waist as to cause present torture and future misery.
I see fashionable men dressed in exact imitation of their own servants,
and only to be distinguished from them by a round bit of glass worn with
much effort, and with absurd distortions of the face, in front of the
right eye--not at all to aid the sight, mind you, but simply because
it is fashionable. Yes, both our nations are guilty of following many
absurd fashions, and each laughs at the other on account of them; but
to my mind the most foolish habit of all is for us to call each other
'barbarians' because our fashions in silliness happen to differ."

In all this Annabel was so interested that the lunch-time conversation
was wholly turned upon Chinese topics, with the result that Mr. Wang
proved himself not only to be highly educated, widely travelled, and
liberal-minded, but one of the most entertaining conversationalists
any of them ever had met. So impressed were his hearers by what this
versatile Chinese gentleman told them, that when the luncheon was ended
Annabel regarded herself as one of the most fortunate girls in the world
because of her prospect of going to China; Mr. Lorimer was thinking of
the same country as probably the most interesting place they should
visit during their travels; Mr. Hinckley found his views on the Chinese
question greatly changed; Rob longed to get back to the land of his
birth, and Jo was decidedly homesick.

For these reasons the Lorimers were pleased to learn that Mr. Wang
proposed to remain in their city a day or two longer, while Mr.
Hinckley was anxious to reach home and his own library, where he might
quietly review his newly received impressions. Rob was equally desirous
of returning to Hatton and the lessons that must be learned before he
could hope to revisit China, while Jo was made happy by an invitation
from Mr. Wang to remain with him during his stay in S---- and greet
the other young Chinese then being educated in that vicinity, whom the
secretary had invited to dine with him that very night.

Mr. Hinckley was more than willing that Jo should accept the invitation,
and remain away from Hatton for a few days on account of the bitterness
of feeling against him that the decision of the court was certain
to have strengthened. So Jo remained behind when the Hinckleys took
their departure, and that evening, passed in company with Mr. Wang
and a dozen companions of his own nationality, was the very happiest
he ever had known. They dined in a room by themselves, were served by
Chinese waiters procured from a near-by laundry, ate their rice with
chop-sticks, drank amber-colored tea without sugar or cream, and did
not speak one word of anything but Chinese during the entire evening.
The one drawback to their complete happiness was that during the dinner
Mr. Wang received a telegram concerning some business that demanded
his presence in Boston the following morning. He therefore was obliged
to leave S---- on a late train that same night, much to his own regret
as well as that of his guests. His final instructions to Jo were to
entertain his young friends at breakfast the following morning before
seeing them off on the train for their respective places of study, and
then to remain in S---- until his return, which probably would be within
two days.

This programme was faithfully carried out by our lad to the point of
escorting his friends to the railway-station and seeing them off. One
reason for his peculiar enjoyment of their company was that owing to
Rob's constant companionship his own advance in learning English, as
well as in acquiring general knowledge, had been so much more rapid than
theirs that his young companions acknowledged his superiority in these
respects with openly expressed wonder and admiration. Then, too, his
experience in American law courts, that had resulted so triumphantly,
caused him to rank among them as a sort of a hero, to be regarded with
great respect.

All this was so flattering and so pleasant to Jo that after their
departure, when for the first time he found himself without companions
in a city of strangers, his extreme loneliness caused him to seek
out the Chinese laundry near the hotel. There he would find other
fellow-countrymen, who, if not of his own rank, at least could talk
to him in his native tongue; also he fancied that by them the recent
flattery which so had pleased him would be continued. Nor was he
mistaken, for when he reached the laundry its inmates received him with
profound kotows, indicating deep respect, and quickly provided him with
tea and sweetmeats.

As Jo had been curious concerning the lives and occupations in America
of these people, who, though belonging to the coolie or lowest class of
Chinese, still were his countrymen, he spent more than an hour in the
laundry, asking questions and acquiring much information, such as no
foreigner could have gained in a lifetime. So interested did he become,
that, in order to realize more fully the nature of the work they were
doing, he took from one of them the flat-iron he was using and for a few
minutes operated it himself.

The young student was so intent upon this novel form of investigation
as not to realize that he was performing actual laundry-work directly
before an open window, through which he was plainly visible to
outsiders. Nor did he notice that a man, lounging on the opposite side
of the street, was keeping keen watch of his performance. Even if Jo
had noticed this man he would have paid no attention to him; nor would
he have known that all his movements of that day had been closely
followed by that same individual. But this was the case, and when Jo
appeared at the open window of the Chinese laundry, evidently engaged in
ironing a garment, the man smiled grimly. At the same time he produced a
pocket-camera having a telescopic lens, which for a moment was levelled
directly at the unsuspecting lad.

"I reckon that'll settle his business," muttered the man to himself.
"Who would have thought of his playing into our hands by doing such a
fool thing?"

A little later Jo, while sitting in the reading-room of his hotel, was
handed a telegram, the very first he ever had received. After carefully
reading the superscription, to make sure that it really was addressed
to him, he tore open the brown envelope, nervously unfolded the yellow
enclosure, and read as follows:

     "BREVOORT HOUSE, NEW YORK CITY.

     "Have important need of you here. Take first train. Wire time
     of your arrival. I will meet you at station.

     "(Signed) WANG CHIH TUNG, Secretary, etc."

"Is there any answer, sir?" asked the boy who had delivered this
despatch and who stood waiting while Jo read it. "Here are blanks if you
want them."

"Yes," replied our lad, speaking slowly, but thinking at top speed. "I
want to send two of these same things. Can you take them and see that
they go light away quick?"

"Yes, sir," replied the boy. "That is my business."

"Can you tell me how soon I can get a train for New York?"

"In ten minutes, if you hurry," answered the boy promptly.

"When will it get me to New York?"

"Ten thirty to-night."

"You are sure?"

"Sure, sir, as if I was a railroad time-table."

Relieved at so easily having obtained the information he wanted, and
excited at thus being summoned by so high a dignitary as Mr. Wang, Jo
wrote two despatches on blanks provided by the waiting boy, and gave
them to him for delivery at the nearest telegraph-office. One was to Mr.
Wang, announcing the proposed hour of his reaching New York, and the
other, telling of his intended trip to that city, was addressed to Mr.
Hinckley. For each of these he paid the boy twenty-five cents, and then,
having no time to lose, he hurried to the railway-station. There he had
barely secured a ticket for New York when an express-train thundered up
to the platform. Two minutes later it was rolling swiftly away, carrying
as passengers Chinese Jo and the man who had followed his movements so
closely all that day.




CHAPTER IX

JO FINDS THAT HE IS SOME ONE ELSE


When, late at night, Chinese Jo reached New York and alighted from
his train in the Grand Central Station he was bewildered and almost
frightened by his surroundings. He found himself in a vast edifice
occupied by many long trains of cars, some standing still, either
receiving or discharging passengers, and others in motion, drawn or
pushed by hoarsely puffing locomotives. Between every two trains was a
narrow platform extending the whole length of the great station, and
most of these were crowded with outgoing or incoming passengers, all
in a hurry, and each too intent upon his own affairs to pay attention
to those of his neighbors. Among them moved red-capped porters and
blue-clad railway officials, too mindful of their own importance to
condescend to answer the low-voiced questions of an insignificant
"Chinaman."

As Jo drifted with the tide of one of these human streams, his eyes
searched anxiously every face within his range of vision with the hope
of discovering Mr. Wang. But no such good-fortune was in store for him,
and finally he reached the street without having found his friend. He
had asked several of the uniformed officials if they had seen a Chinese
gentleman anywhere about the station, but some of them had only laughed
without answering, while others had paid no attention to him. Outside
the station, however, and standing irresolute on the sidewalk, Jo was
beset by plenty of persons anxious to serve him. Drivers of carriages,
cabs, and baggage wagons shouted at him and solicited his patronage.
Agents of express companies wanted to take charge of his luggage,
ragged street urchins struggled for possession of his hand-bag, while
hotel-runners besieged him with cards of their respective houses.

"But I only want to go to the Blevoort Hotel," he finally managed to
explain, "and not anywhere else."

"Take you to the Brevoort for five dollars," shouted a hack-driver,
waving a whip in the lad's face and at the same time reaching for his
hand-bag.

"I am going to the Brevoort House, and will show you the way if you
like," said some one close behind Jo, as he was attempting to explain
that he had not five dollars to expend on carriage-hire.

Turning, our lad saw a man, evidently, from the bag that he carried,
a traveller like himself, and, greatly relieved to find some one
willing to aid him in this time of trouble, he gratefully accepted the
stranger's offer of guidance.

"All right, then, come along," said the man. "No, we don't want no hack.
Street-cars are good enough for us."

With this he waved aside the clamorous throng of drivers, and led
the way to a car bound down-town. As they rode, the stranger, while
admitting that he was not a resident of New York, so impressed our lad
with his knowledge of the great city, and of the manifold pitfalls that
it held for the unwary, that he inwardly congratulated himself upon
having met so willing a guide, who at the same time was so competent to
direct his steps.

The car took them within one block of their destination, and when Jo
read the name "Brevoort" over the doorway of the hotel he believed his
troubles to be ended, for surely here he would find his friend, or at
least learn of his whereabouts.

"Is there a gentleman by the name of Wang stopping here?" he inquired of
a sprucely attired clerk at the desk.

"Not if we know it," was the reply, accompanied by a supercilious stare.

"But I received a telegram only a few hours ago telling me to meet him
here."

"Can't help that. If he is here it's without my knowledge, and you'll
have to find him as best you can."

"Then I will take a room for the night and wait till he comes," said
poor Jo, desperately. "This is the only address he gave, and so he is
sure to look here for me sooner or later."

"Haven't a vacant room in the house," answered the clerk, shortly; "and
if you think this hotel is a Chinese joint you're mightily mistaken."

"Let's get out of here," said Jo's friendly guide. "That's outrageous;
and if this place isn't good enough for you it isn't good enough for me
either."

Here, unobserved by our lad, the speaker winked at the clerk, who winked
back understandingly. "Come with me," added the man. "I'll show you a
decent place, where we can spend the night, and to-morrow I'll help you
hunt your friend."

As Jo knew not what else to do, he for a second time gratefully
accepted the offer of this stranger, and followed him out through the
inhospitable doorway he had so hopefully entered a few minutes before.
Again boarding a street-car, they were carried far down-town, and
finally reached a small hotel, in which they secured a room containing
two beds.

There they spent the remainder of the night and had breakfast the next
morning. By this time Jo had determined to make one more effort to find
Mr. Wang at the Brevoort House, and, if it failed, to return at once to
Hatton. He still had money with him to pay his fare, but not enough to
keep him much longer at a New York hotel. During breakfast, which he and
his newly formed acquaintance ate together, he confided this plan to the
latter, who gave it his hearty approval.

"Best thing you can do," he said. "New York is no place for a stranger,
more especial a foreigner who is not used to American ways. There's
only one thing, though. While we're down-town we might as well visit
the office of the police commissioners, and find out what they know
about your friend. They keep track of all foreigners arriving in the
city, and are sure to have full information concerning any one so
distinguished as your Mr. Wang. It's only about a couple of blocks away,
and you can leave your bag here to pick up as you come back."

Jo agreed to this proposal; and, filled with a new hope, willingly
accompanied his friendly guide. They walked much farther than two
blocks, but our lad was so fascinated by the novel sights about him
that he took no note of the distance traversed. Finally they entered
a massive stone building, in which an elevator speedily lifted them
several stories above the street level. Jo caught a glimpse of the
word "Commissioner," printed in letters of gold over a doorway, as he
was ushered into an anteroom, the entrance to which was guarded by an
officer. His acquaintance seemed to know this man, for he nodded to him
as they passed in. Then he said to Jo:

"You sit here and wait a few minutes, while I go and see if the
commissioner can give us a hearing."

With this he turned away and disappeared through a second doorway at the
other end of the room.

So Jo waited and waited with the unquestioning patience of his race
until more than an hour had passed, while many persons went in and out
without paying him the slightest attention. At length he began to grow
uneasy; and, walking over to the officer who guarded the door, he asked:

"Is the commissioner very busy this morning?"

"Rather," was the laconic answer.

"Then, perhaps, I had better not wait any longer."

"Oh, I guess you had," was the reply, accompanied by a curious scrutiny
of the young Chinese.

"But it may be that he won't have time to attend to my affair."

"He'll attend to you fast enough when the time comes. Never you fear."

Reassured, but at the same time somewhat perplexed by these answers, Jo
returned to his seat and waited another hour. Then, determined to remain
no longer, he walked to the door with the intention of going back to the
hotel and carrying out his original plan.

"What do you want now?" inquired the officer on guard.

"I am not going to wait any longer," replied Jo.

"Oh, you're not going to wait any longer, aren't you? Reckon we'll see
about that, too. Just you stroll back to where the deputy marshal left
you, and stay there till you're ordered to move, or I'll make things
lively for you. Do you hear me, Chink? Well, then, get a move on."

Bewildered and frightened by the officer's fierce aspect, Jo did as he
was bidden, and again resumed his seat. He had hardly taken it, when the
door through which his acquaintance had disappeared was flung open and
another officer called out, "Joseph Lee!" a summons that our lad obeyed
with alacrity.

He was ushered into a comfortably furnished room, containing a number
of men, and was conducted to the presence of one who sat behind a desk.
Near at hand stood his acquaintance of the night before.

"Is this your man, deputy?" asked the person behind the desk.

"Yes, sir; he is," replied Jo's acquaintance, who was a deputy United
States marshal, engaged in searching out illegal Chinese residents of
the Eastern District.

"What is your name?" asked the man behind the desk, now turning to Jo.

"Joseph Lee," was the reply.

"Native of China?"

"Yes, sir."

"How long have you been in this country?"

"About eight months."

"Where?"

"Hatton."

"What have you been doing there?"

"Studying."

"Never lived in S----?"

"No, sir; but--"

"Never mind your buts. Haven't you been employed in Charley Wing's
laundry in S----?"

"Certainly not. I am a student, and--"

"This isn't your picture, then?" said the United States commissioner, at
the same time holding out an enlarged photograph of a scene in a Chinese
laundry.

Jo took it, and to his amazement recognized himself, prominently in the
foreground, and engaged in ironing as though that were his trade.

"Yes, sir," he answered. "This seems to be a picture of me; but--"

"That will do," interrupted the commissioner sharply. "Now let me see
your certificate."

Jo had a certificate of identity, to which was attached a photograph of
himself as he had looked when about to leave Hong-Kong. This certificate
had been furnished by an American consul-general in China; and, as he
had been warned always to keep it about his person, he now was able
promptly to produce it.

"Um, um," muttered the commissioner, as he glanced over the paper. Then
aloud he added: "This appears to be a certificate of identity issued
to one Li Tsin Su, student, unable to speak English, and so forth.
You speak English fluently, declare your name to be Joseph Lee, and
admit the correctness of this picture of yourself at work in a Chinese
laundry, a photograph, by-the-way, that does not in the least resemble
the one attached to this certificate. Thus, your case seems to prove
itself beyond need of further investigation, for you don't appear to be
anywhere near as sharp in matters of deception as most of your tricky
countrymen. I rather think you won't find America a congenial sphere for
your future studies. Marshal, remove the prisoner, and retain him in
custody until such time as the next personally conducted excursion is
ready to start."

"This is an outrage!" protested poor Jo, struggling furiously in the
viselike grip of the man who had taken him in charge, "and I shall
appeal--"

"Shut up!" growled the officer, "and come along quiet, or you'll only
make a bad matter worse."

With this he hustled his indignant but helpless prisoner from the room
at so breathless a pace that he could utter no further word of protest.

A half-hour later saw our unfortunate lad stripped of everything found
in his pockets and lodged in one of the city prisons, in company with
several of his countrymen, all of the coolie class, who were awaiting
orders from Washington for their deportation to China in accordance with
the provisions of the Chinese Exclusion Act of the United States.




CHAPTER X

WHAT HAPPENED ON THE WAY TO CHINA


Of course, the telegram purporting to come from the Chinese secretary
of legation, by which Jo had been lured to New York, was a forgery; nor
had either of those intrusted by him to the bogus messenger-boy, who
delivered it, ever been forwarded to its address. Thus, Jo's Hatton
friends had no idea that he had left S----, but supposed him to be there
in company with Mr. Wang. They were well satisfied that this should be
so for a time, and Rob was especially glad; for whenever he met any of
the muckers they were sure to call out:

"Say, saphead, where's yer Chinee? Don't yer dare let him out, for fear
he'll get hurted? Yer scared to be seen on the street with him, that's
what's the matter! Yer needn't be, though, fer we wouldn't tech him with
a ten-foot pole, specially if yer'd muzzle him and lead him by a chain,
same as they do all the other big monkeys. Bet yer don't know where he
is! Bet he's got woozy and runned away! He'd better stay away, too, or
we'll fix him good!"

So, for about a week, Rob was not sorry to have his friend in a place
that promised a greater safety than Hatton. At the end of that time,
however, the Hinckley family began to wonder why they did not hear from
their young guest, and Rob wrote him a letter, that he sent to the hotel
in S----. It was promptly returned, with a note from the proprietor
stating that the Chinese lad only had stayed in his house one day, and
then had disappeared, but that a telegram for him lay unclaimed in the
office.

Mr. Hinckley at once sent for this telegram, which proved to be from
Mr. Wang, dated at Boston, stating that he should be unable to revisit
S----, and advising Jo's immediate return to Hatton. It was a week old.
Upon this Mr. Hinckley telegraphed to Washington, only to receive word
that Mr. Wang was travelling in the South and would not be back for
a month. Inquiries for the missing lad were now set on foot in every
direction, but no clew to his whereabouts could be found; nor was it for
long months after his disappearance that its mystery was cleared away.

In the mean time, much as our Hatton friends were troubled by their
young guest's unexplained vanishing, their attention was largely
diverted from it by news from China that Dr. Hinckley was seriously ill.
The first intimation of this came in a letter that told of his failing
health and of his plan to seek its restoration through a visit to
America.

"Won't it be fine!" exclaimed Rob, "to have them here? Father'll be sure
to get well as soon as he sights the Connecticut Valley. Its air always
has made a new man of him."

For a whole day he revelled in these happy anticipations. Then came the
fateful cablegram that in a moment swept away his light-heartedness and
changed the whole current of his life. It was from his mother, and was
in the private code that his parents had prepared when they left him
in Hatton. In all the years since then he had been obliged to refer to
this code but twice; for people living on small salaries cannot often
afford to send messages costing several dollars per word, with both
address and signature to be paid for at full rates. The present message
that had been flashed from far-away China, across Asia, under the Indian
Ocean, the Red Sea, and the Mediterranean, across Europe and under the
Atlantic, read as follows:

     "Syntax, Boston.--Fable, garnet, hazel."

The word "Syntax" had, from the first, been registered in the Western
Union office at Boston, to save the expense of cabling the name of the
State in which Hatton was located, and it meant, "Rev. William Hinckley,
Hatton," to which address the despatch had been forwarded at an extra
charge of twenty-five cents.

"Bring the code-book, quick, Rob!" exclaimed Mr. Hinckley, as this
message dropped like a bombshell into the quiet circle gathered in
the pleasant parsonage parlor that evening. Rob had been studying his
lessons for the next day, his uncle was reading, and Mrs. Hinckley
happened to be writing a letter to China.

In a few seconds the boy had dashed up-stairs and was back with the
alphabetically arranged code-book.

"Fable?" said his uncle, and Rob, turning to the F's, ran his finger
hastily down the long column.

"Oh!" he gasped, "Fable means, 'Mason too ill to travel.'"

"Garnet?" continued Mr. Hinckley, huskily.

"Garnet means, 'Wants to see Rob before he dies.' Do you believe it can
be as bad as that, Uncle Will?" and a choking sob rose in the boy's
throat.

"First find the meaning of 'Hazel,' and then we will talk about it,"
replied Mr. Hinckley.

"Hazel," replied Rob, in another moment, "means, 'Send Rob to us at
once.'"

"Oh, Rob! my dear, dear boy!" cried Mrs. Hinckley. "It is terrible for
you, and it is going to be dreadfully hard to give you up, for you have
become as our own son."

"But we must give him up, and that at once," said her husband,
sorrowfully, "since the meaning of this despatch cannot for a moment be
misunderstood. Mason's illness must have taken such a sudden turn for
the worse that his life is endangered. They evidently hope, though, to
prolong it for some weeks, at least, or Fanny would not send for Rob.
She knows that he cannot, under the most favorable conditions, reach her
in less than a month."

"But in case of the worst, she would want Rob with her," suggested Mrs.
Hinckley.

"In that case she would come to him, for, with Mason dead, there would
be nothing to keep her in China."

"That's so," said Rob, hopefully. "I hadn't thought of that. When do you
think I can start, Uncle Will? I suppose we'll have to telegraph all
the different companies to find out which of them sends out the first
steamer."

"That would be expensive and take time," replied Mr. Hinckley. "I
believe we can do better. The Post-Office Department keeps track of the
sailing dates of all steamers that carry mails, in order that letters
may be despatched as often and as quickly as possible. So, though our
post-office must be closed by this hour, I will go over to Postmaster
Garrett's house, and see if he hasn't a printed slip giving the sailing
dates of Pacific steamers for the next few weeks. While I am gone, you
and your aunt can be getting your things together ready for packing."

With this Mr. Hinckley was about to leave the house, when his wife said:

"Why, William, those post-office notices are always published in the
Boston papers, and there is yesterday's lying on the table."

"So it is!" exclaimed Mr. Hinckley, picking up the paper as he spoke.
"How stupid I am! Yes, here is the very thing we want: 'China and
Japan, _via_ Tacoma, mails close 5 P.M. on the 6th, steamship
_Oriental._.' That is to-morrow, and it means that mails will be taken
on the evening express which reaches Albany about midnight. There it
meets and makes part of the New York night express for Chicago. From
Chicago they will go to St. Paul, and then, by way of the Northern
Pacific Coast, Limited, to Tacoma, reaching there on the 10th, which
undoubtedly is the _Oriental's_ sailing date. At any rate, Rob, so long
as you go with the mail you are bound to be travelling the quickest
possible way. To catch the Boston express, you must go to Albany by the
noon train to-morrow. I shall go with you that far, and we will make all
your ticket arrangements there."

Thus, within fifteen minutes from the time that fateful cablegram found
Rob Hinckley quietly studying lessons for the morrow, and expecting to
do little else for many months more, school had become a thing of the
seemingly remote past, and he was a traveller bound on a journey that
would take him half-way around the world. Moreover, the earlier details
of this journey were already planned, and he was to set forth within a
few hours. It is no wonder that he got but little sleep that night, nor
that he was up at daylight packing his trunk and sorting out certain
cherished possessions that he meant to distribute as keepsakes among his
boy friends.

He went to school at the usual hour, but only to announce his departure
to the masters, say good-bye, and collect his books. The head-master
requested him to wait a few minutes and accompany him to the great hall
where the entire school assembled for morning prayer. There, to Rob's
embarrassment, he was conducted to a seat of honor on the platform,
from which the master gave notice of his coming departure, stated its
sad cause, said some very flattering things about Rob himself, and
then asked the school to join him in an earnest prayer for their young
friend's safety during the tremendous journey he was about to undertake,
and that at its end he not only might find his dear father alive, but
restored to health.

At the conclusion of this prayer tears stood in Rob's eyes and in those
of many of his young friends as well. He wanted, before leaving, to say
good-bye to the whole body of his school-mates, as he did not expect to
see any of them again; but he did not exactly know how to do so, and was
immensely relieved when the head-master further said:

"Robert is to leave Hatton by the noon train to-day, and in order that
his friends here gathered may have the opportunity, which I am sure they
desire, of bidding him farewell and seeing him off, all classes will be
dismissed at eleven clock."

As a result of this thoughtful provision, for nearly an hour preceding
the departure of the Albany train the little Hatton railway-station
presented one of the liveliest scenes in its history, and Rob was
greatly affected by the innumerable evidences of esteem showered upon
him by his school-mates. When the train finally pulled out, with our
lad waving his hat from the rear platform of its last car, it was to an
accompaniment of a hurricane of cheers and farewell shouts.

"Who is the most popular fellow in Hatton?" cried the leader of the
academy rooters.

"R-O-B, Rob! H-I-N-C-K-L-E-Y, Hinckley! ROB
HINCKLEY! Hi-ho! Hi-ho! GOOD-BYE!" was the answer shouted
forth in tremendous chorus by every boy and girl present; and this was
our young traveller's final farewell from the place that seemed his home
more than any other in all the world.

For three days after leaving Albany, Rob journeyed swiftly and without
untoward incident past Buffalo and Chicago, up into the great Northwest,
through St. Paul, amid the vast wheat-fields of Minnesota and the Red
River valley, over the limitless prairies of North Dakota, through the
"Bad Lands" bordering the Little Missouri, and into the incredibly rich
copper regions of Montana. Then came the dreadful day on which he lost
his train, and with it all hope of catching the only advertised steamer
to leave the "coast" for a week. It happened at Helena, where the train
was to remain for fifteen minutes; and Rob, tired with being so long
shut up in a car, decided to take a brisk walk into the town. He wanted
to see something of the place, and needed the exercise.

So he set forth, walked as far as he dared, allowed too narrow a margin
of time for his return, missed his way, and finally regained the
station only to see his train pulling out from its farther end. For
a second he could not believe his eyes. Then he ran madly after the
disappearing cars, screaming for them to stop. Even in the blindness of
his excitement a moment of this effort convinced him of its folly, and
he halted on the edge of the platform, while two great, scalding tears,
that he had no heart to repress, coursed slowly down his cheeks.




CHAPTER XI

ACCEPT A KINDNESS AND PASS IT ALONG


"Is it as bad as all that, my boy?" asked a kindly voice at Rob's elbow;
and the lad, turning quickly, looked into the sympathetic face of a
United States army officer, whose khaki uniform was faced with red.

Captain John Astley, commanding Battery Z of Field Artillery, returning
from leave in the East, had been placed in temporary charge of a body of
recruits ordered to Vancouver Barracks, near Portland, Oregon, which was
his station. He had stopped at Helena _en route_, to pick up a few
more newly enlisted men, and, being at the railway-station that morning,
was attracted by Rob's running and shouting after his rapidly vanishing
train. Captain Astley was tender-hearted, as are all brave men; and,
noting our young traveller's genuine distress, he impulsively stepped
forward to inquire into its cause. As he saw tears on the lad's cheeks,
he knew it must be serious, for Rob did not look like a fellow from
whose eyes tears could easily be extracted.

"Yes, sir," replied poor Rob, who, longing for sympathy in this moment
of distress, was moved by the kindly face of the stranger to unburden
his heart of its load of trouble. "It is about as bad as it can be, for
my father is dying in China, and my only chance of seeing him alive lay
in catching the _Oriental_, which sails from Tacoma to-morrow evening.
Now I have lost her, and there won't be another steamer of that line for
nearly a month. Besides, my baggage is on the train just gone; and my
pocket-book, with my tickets and all my money, has gone with it, locked
up in my suit-case."

"That does seem a rather serious situation," said Captain Astley,
gravely, "but perhaps it won't prove irremediable, after all. I've
noticed that things looking the darkest at first view often brighten
upon closer inspection. Suppose we sit down for a minute and see what
light can be thrown into this darkness."

When Rob had accepted this friendly invitation, and the two had seated
themselves on a near-by baggage-truck, the elder man continued: "To
begin with, let us know each other. I am John Astley, Captain of
Artillery, U.S.A., and stationed at Vancouver Barracks, to which place
I must proceed by to-morrow morning's train. I wanted to go on to-day,
but, unexpectedly, was detained at the last moment, and came to the
station to hold over my luggage. I must confess that I was much annoyed
at this detention, but if it affords me an opportunity of helping you
out of your trouble I shall not regret it."

"Thank you, sir," replied the lad. "My name is Rob Hinckley. I am the
son of a medical missionary, stationed at Wu Hsing, on the Si Kiang, in
China, where I was born; but I have lived for the past fourteen years,
and gone to school, in New England. I have passed my preliminaries for
Yale, and should have entered next fall if the news of my father's
serious illness, and his great desire to see me before he died, had not
altered all my plans. Now, by my own carelessness in walking too far,
while the train waited here, I not only have lost it, but probably have
lost my only chance of ever seeing him again."

"Isn't there a steamer of some other line--the _Empress_ from
Vancouver, the _Yusen Kaisha_ from Seattle, or the Pacific Mail from
San Francisco--that you can take within a few days?" suggested Captain
Astley.

"There is one from San Francisco in about a week, but, you see, my
fare is paid through to Nagasaki by the Tacoma line, and I'm afraid
I haven't money enough to buy another ticket. Besides, I should have
fare from Tacoma to San Francisco to pay, and hotel bills. Then, too,
my pocket-book, with money, tickets, and everything, has gone off on
that train. I thought I'd be extra careful, and so locked it up in my
suit-case before starting out to walk."

"I hope you still have the key," said Captain Astley, seriously, but
with a twinkle in his gray eyes.

"Yes, sir; I've got that. I don't see, though, how it is going to do
me much good, seeing that I haven't money enough to take me even to
Tacoma. There's another thing I've just thought of. My trunk is checked
through to Nagasaki by the _Oriental_; and as my suit-case has the same
name on it, probably some one will be kind enough to put it on board the
steamer. So there isn't much chance that I shall ever see it again."

"Oh, I guess there is, provided the telegraph still is in order, and I
know it was working a few minutes ago."

"I haven't even money enough to pay for a telegram," objected Rob.

"So it is doubly fortunate that I happen to have a few pennies left over
from my last month's pay," laughed the captain.

"But I am a stranger to you, sir, and you don't know that I am honest
enough to repay you, even if I ever get my money back," objected Rob,
flushing with the embarrassment that money troubles always cause those
not used to them.

"Haven't you just told me all about yourself?" suggested the captain,
gravely; "and can't I read 'honesty' written on every feature of your
face? Besides, one must always be willing to risk somethink in an
investment from which he hopes to gain rich returns in the form of
self-satisfaction. So it's all right, every way you look at it, and I
think we'll buy the use of a west-bound wire for the next half-hour or
so."

Thus saying, Captain Astley led the way to the telegraph-office, into
which Rob doubtfully followed him. There the former first persuaded the
station-agent to wire the conductor of the train that had brought our
young traveller thus far, an inquiry concerning him and his ticket. Then
he wired the Pullman conductor to look after Rob's suit-case and deliver
it to the station-agent at Tacoma, to be kept by him until called for by
Captain Astley.

"I put it that way," explained the latter, "because the Tacoma agent
knows me, while he doesn't know Robert Hinckley; and, as we are going on
together to-morrow, it won't make any difference which of us receives
the bag."

A third despatch was sent to the Tacoma agent of the steamship company,
notifying him that unforeseen circumstances prevented Mr. Robert
Hinckley from sailing on the _Oriental_, requesting him to hold over a
trunk marked Hinckley and bearing Nagasaki check 907, and asking him to
meet the following day's Coast Limited at the Tacoma station, with money
to refund the price of the forfeited ticket.

"I don't know whether or not he will do that," said Captain Astley;
"but perhaps he will, seeing that he is pretty well acquainted with me.
At any rate, it is worth trying for. You may send the replies to these
messages up to the X Hotel," he added, turning to the operator.

"But I am not staying at the X Hotel," objected Rob, remembering how
very elegant and expensive that establishment had looked when he passed
it a half-hour before. "I can't afford it."

"Not as my guest?" asked the army man.

"I don't see how you can think of doing so much for me," blurted out
Rob. "I never heard of any one being so kind to a perfect stranger."

"My dear lad, I once was a boy myself, and continually getting into
scrapes, from which kind people, as often as not entire strangers,
helped me out. So you see I now am only repaying a small portion of
the debt I owe to those who were good to me. Besides, I am fond of
boys, especially of boys who behave themselves as gentlemen, and am
delighted at the prospect of having one as a travelling companion,
even for a short time. So don't you fret any more over the incurring
of obligations; also, never hesitate to accept whatever good thing is
offered you in this life, for the bad you'll have to accept, whether or
no."

"All right, sir," replied Rob, smiling happily, as he now could well
afford to do. "I will gratefully accept all the kindness you offer, and
pass it along to some other fellow, whenever I find one in a trouble out
of which I can help him."

"Good!" laughed the captain. "And now that we understand each other,
let's go up to the hotel for breakfast."

Owing to the efforts of this Heaven-sent friend, Rob's troubles, that
had seemed so overwhelming, melted away like frost before the warm
breath of a cloudless sun. While they were at breakfast, a message was
received from the train conductor that Robert Hinckley, accidentally
left behind at Helena, had paid full first-class fare through to Tacoma,
and on the strength of this the Helena agent provided our lad with a
ticket to that point. The Pullman man wired from Spokane that Rob's
baggage was in his keeping, and would be handed over at Tacoma according
to instructions. They did not hear from the steamship agent; but on
the following day, when our travellers reached Tacoma, after crossing
the coast range by aid of the superb Stampede Tunnel, and having been
whirled down the western slope, through the magnificent fir forests of
Washington, they found that gentleman awaiting them at the station.
Here, also, they found Rob's trunk and his suit-case.

The steamship agent explained that, while he could exchange an unused
ticket for one good by the next ship of the same line, he was not
allowed to refund money already paid for passage. "However," he added,
turning to Rob with a smile at the latter's clouding face, "owing to
the fact that I was notified in time, I was able to sell your room to
a gentleman who, finding all first-class accommodation engaged, had
taken second-class passage rather than wait for another steamer. He, of
course, was glad to pay the difference in price, and so I am able to
refund half the cost of your ticket, if you feel that you cannot wait
for our next ship."

Rob hesitated, while he made a rapid mental calculation.

"Take it," advised Captain Astley, "and come with me to Vancouver
Barracks. There, at least, we can save you a hotel bill while you are
waiting for another steamer."

So our lad accepted the money, surrendered his steamship-ticket,
purchased another to Portland, Oregon, rechecked his trunk to the same
point, and a few minutes later found himself, still in company with
his army friend, speeding to the southward on the same train that had
brought them to the coast.

His first act, after they were again under way, was to refund the money
expended in his behalf for telegrams and hotel expenses in Helena. Much
to his relief, Captain Astley accepted this without demur, it being one
of that officer's pet theories that no gentleman will place another
under a pecuniary obligation against his wish, even to the extent of a
five-cent car-fare.

In the mean time the latter had learned all that was worth knowing of
Rob's history, of course including his recent experiences in connection
with Chinese Jo. When he discovered that his young companion could talk
Chinese, he said:

"I wish we were to be together long enough for you to teach me, as I
believe the time is not far distant when a knowledge of that language
will prove a most valuable addition to an army officer's mental
equipment."

Finally they reached Portland, where, before the train had stopped, an
orderly was in the car saluting and handing his captain an official
envelope.

"By Jove!" exclaimed the latter, as he tore it open and glanced rapidly
over its contents; "here's a hot shot from a masked battery, and
perhaps it may mean that you and I can--But never mind now. We'll talk
it over in quarters this evening. Orderly, get these traps out; look
after Mr. Hinckley's trunk, and see that it is sent over to the barracks
with the rest of the luggage. You wait in the ambulance, Hinckley, while
I get the men started, and I'll rejoin you within a few minutes. Great
Scott! but this, surely, is great news!"




CHAPTER XII

FROM THE GOLDEN GATE TO THE PEARL RIVER


"I wonder what that despatch can be about," thought Rob, as he sat
in the comfortable ambulance which, drawn by two big army mules and
with its curtains rolled up, was used as a carriage by the officers of
the post. "He was as excited as though war had been declared against
somebody or other; but I haven't heard that we are likely to go to war
with any one. Perhaps it's Indians, though, and, if so, there's sure to
be something about it in the paper."

Thus thinking, Rob beckoned to a passing newsboy and bought a copy of
the _Oregonian_. Diligently as he searched its columns, he could not
find a word about Indians. Nor were there any war rumors, and he was
more than ever puzzled, until his eye lighted on the heading:

"Battery Z ordered to the Philippines."

Yes, that was it, and Rob began to feel very lonely as he read the
brief announcement to the effect that Battery Z was to leave Vancouver
Barracks at once for San Francisco, where the transport _Logan_ was
already waiting to take it on board.

"That knocks my chance of spending a week, or even part of one, at
the barracks," he said to himself, "and I did want to so much. I don't
suppose I ought to go over, even for a night, because Captain Astley
will be too busy to bother with me. It looks as if he had already
forgotten me, for I must have waited here an hour, and I shouldn't blame
him if he had."

Just here Rob's sombre reflections were interrupted by the cheery voice
of Captain Astley, who sprang into the ambulance from the opposite side
and ordered that it move on.

"Hello, Hinckley!" he cried. "I beg your pardon for leaving you so long,
but I have been rushed breathless by most unexpected orders that have
completely upset all previously arranged plans."

"Then you really are going to Manila?" asked Rob.

"How did you know? Oh! it's already in the paper, is it? Yes, and we've
got to move out of here in a hurry--to-morrow, if we can, or the next
day at the latest. So I've been arranging about trains and a lot of
things that had to be looked after on this side of the river. But,
before I forget to mention it, how would you like to go along with us?"

"I!" cried Rob, too surprised to answer the question.

"Yes, you. I wired to the Presidio for permission to take with me Robert
Hinckley, our Chinese instructor, and it is granted, provided he pays
his own mess bills. They will come to something less than two dollars
per day during the voyage from San Francisco to Manila. From there it
is only a couple of days' run over to Hong-Kong; and by going with us
you can beat that Tacoma ship by at least a week. Besides, you won't
have any fare to pay between here and San Francisco. What do you think?
Is it a go, and may we count on you as a fellow-passenger aboard the
good old _Logan_?"

"I should say you could!" cried Rob, even more excited than the captain
himself. "I never heard of such a piece of undeserved good-luck. Of
course, I'll go with you, and feel everlastingly obliged to you for the
chance, besides. Only, I don't know how I ever can repay such kindness."

"Nonsense!" exclaimed the other. "I thought we finally had settled that
question away back in Montana. But here we are, and for the next few
days you'll have enough to do to knock all thoughts of gratitude out of
your head, for I am going to appoint you my A. D. C. Perhaps you don't
know what that is, so I'll tell you. An A. D. C. is a chap who, in
active service like the present, has to work twenty-five hours out of
the twenty-four, and gets no thanks for anything he does. Do you want
the job?"

"Yes," replied Rob, happily, "and I'd take it if it were twice as hard."

So our lad joined the army, and for the next two days, from early
morning until late at night, he was about as busy as a boy well could
be--helping the captain pack, writing his letters, running hither and
thither with orders, and doing whatever was given him to do, with a
cheerful promptness that won for him the good-will of all hands.

At the end of that time he found himself in company with a number of
officers occupying the rear car of a long troop-train on which was
loaded Battery Z--men, horses, guns, and all--headed southward, up the
broad Willamette Valley, and starting on their thirty-six-hour run
towards the city of the Golden Gate. On the following day they skirted
for hours the base of grand old Shasta, one of the mightiest and most
beautiful of American mountains. Then they ran down the exquisite valley
of the Sacramento, which they first saw as a brook and at last crossed
as a mighty river pouring a turbid flood into San Pablo Bay. A little
later came San Francisco, with the bustle and anxious excitement of
debarking, marching through the city, and re-embarking, this time on the
great, white transport that was to bear them away in the track of the
setting sun, across seven thousand miles of Pacific waters.

In all this time Rob, while fully intending to write to Hatton
concerning his adventures and change of plans, had not found a minute
when it seemed possible to do so. Not until the _Logan_, with her
crowded passenger-list, including civil officials, military officers,
troops, government school-teachers and other employés, and her vast
miscellaneous cargo of live-stock, guns, ammunition, machinery, and
stores of every description, had got so far out to sea that the
Farallones were only a blur on the horizon behind her did it occur
to him that he had neglected his last opportunity for sending back a
message until he should reach the distant Hawaiian Islands. Then he sat
down and wrote a long letter that he was able to mail eight days later
at Honolulu, but which did not reach Hatton until a full month from the
date of his departure. In the mean time Mr. Hinckley had cabled to China
that Rob would sail by the _Oriental_ from Tacoma on a certain date,
and when finally he learned of his nephew's changed plans, it did not
seem worth while to cable again, as the lad was already due to arrive at
Hong-Kong, and so could tell his own story.

Rob enjoyed every minute of his twenty-four hours' stay in beautiful
Honolulu. He was enchanted by its wealth of strange flowers, its
tropical foliage, and by the many new fruits that he now tasted for the
first time. He drove out to the Pali, the frightful mountain precipice,
five miles back from the city, over which, in the old savage days,
King Kamehameha I. drove to their deaths an army of his enemies. He
experimented with surf-riding on a slender board at Waikiki beach,
ate poi, which he didn't like, and enjoyed poha jam. He wanted to
climb Diamond Head and to visit the great sugar plantations of Ewa
and Waialua; also he would dearly have loved to sail to the island of
Hawaii, one hundred and fifty miles away, and gaze upon the mighty
volcanoes of Kilauea and Mauna Loa; but there was not time, and all
these had to be left for another visit.

The next chance for going ashore came two weeks later, when the _Logan_
stopped for a few hours at the lonely but lovely island of Guam,
destined a few years later to become a most important way-station of the
American Pacific cable. After Guam came five days more of uneventful
sailing, and then Manila Bay, with Corregidor Island standing sentry at
its entrance.

"I wonder what Corregidor means?" asked Rob of Captain Astley, as they
stood together gazing at this outpost, from which the first warning gun
had been fired when Dewey's fleet slipped through the gray of dawn into
Manila Bay.

"Some one told me," replied the army man, "that in olden times every
Spanish city was governed by a regidor, assisted by councilmen, one from
each division, or ward, called corregidors. So if we were to Americanize
the name we would call it 'Alderman Island.'"

"Or 'City Father Island,'" laughed Rob.

It was intensely interesting to sail up that broad, mountain-bordered
expanse of water, and recall the stirring events of May-day, 1898, when
Dewey and his men did the same thing, only with the terrible difference
that at any moment they were liable to run into a deadly nest of
torpedoes. As they approached the head of the bay they saw Cavité on
the right; then the shipping anchored in the roadstead; and then Manila
itself lying on both sides of the sluggish Pasig, the old walled city on
the right and the more modern town on the left as they faced them.

At Manila, Rob sorrowfully parted with the comrade whom he first had met
in far-away Montana, and who ever since had been at once dear friend,
guide, instructor, and pupil; for a steamer, on which he promptly
engaged passage, left for Hong-Kong the day after the _Logan's_ arrival.

During the month they had spent together Captain Astley had so
assiduously devoted himself to the study of Chinese that now he
possessed a fair working knowledge of the Southern or Canton dialect,
while every man in the battery, thanks to Rob, could express himself
with a certain fluency in pidgin (business) English. All of them were on
hand to see their young instructor off, and as the launch that was to
carry him to his new steamer backed out from the crowded landing, their
farewell cheers reminded him of Hatton, and he felt quite as lonely as
he had on that first day of his eventful journey. Now, too, that he no
longer had friends and regular duties to divert his mind, and with China
only two days' sail away, all his anxiety concerning his parents came
back with redoubled force. Would he find himself fatherless?--or would
the dear face still be there with its smiling welcome? So impatient was
he that the two days between Manila and Hong-Kong seemed as long as
any previous two weeks of his journey, and he found himself straining
his eyes for a glimpse of the China coast hours before there was any
possibility of sighting it.

Finally, a number of high, rock-bound islands came into view. Then
the ship, passing through a narrow entrance between two of them,
threaded a tortuous, strongly fortified channel that opened into the
broad, splendid harbor of Hong-Kong. On the right was the recently
acquired British territory and new settlement of Kowloon, with wharves,
dry-docks, godowns, and barracks. On the left rose Hong-Kong island,
with the fine city of Victoria nestled at the base of a peak eighteen
hundred feet high and climbing its wooded slopes. The moment the ship
dropped anchor amid a fleet of great merchant steamers and men-of-war
flying the flags of all the maritime nations of the world, Rob signalled
one of the innumerable sampans, "manned" by Chinese women, that swarmed
alongside. He already had learned that a Pearl River steamer would
leave for Canton within an hour, and so anxious was he to reach his
destination, which still lay some two hundred miles beyond that city,
that he was determined to go on by the very first conveyance. For this
reason he had his trunk and himself taken by the sampan directly from
one steamer to the other, and in a short time, without having gone
ashore at Hong-Kong, he found himself again under way, on board the
side-wheeled, American-modelled steamer _Fatshan_, bound for Canton,
eighty miles distant.

As Rob sat on deck watching with fascinated interest the queer-looking
junks with lofty poops, low prows, and sails of matting, the sampans,
Chinese guard-boats, and numberless other quaint craft slipping to and
fro over those placid inland waters, with sails outlined against the
dark background of the Tai-Mo-Shan Mountains, a stranger sitting near
him remarked:

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yes," replied Rob, promptly. "I don't believe there can be a more
fascinating river-scene in all the world."

From this the two easily drifted into conversation; and at length the
stranger, who proved to be a business-man from Amoy, said:

"New to this part of the world, aren't you?"

"Yes," replied Rob; "it all is new to me now, though I was born here;
but my parents took me away nearly fourteen years ago."

"Indeed! May I ask where you were born?"

"Wu Hsing, up on the Si Kiang."

"You don't mean the place where the missionaries were killed the other
day?"

"Missionaries killed!" repeated Rob, mechanically, and with blanching
cheeks. "How were they killed? How many? What were their names?"

"Killed by a mob of natives, as usual; but the city tao-tai and fifteen
of the ringleaders were executed yesterday in Canton, so everything is
quiet up there now. Their names? Why, I don't seem to remember; but all
who were at the station were killed. Nobody escaped. Of course, none of
your friends were there, though, seeing that you moved away so long ago."

"My father and mother were there," groaned poor Rob. And for him the
light of life seemed to go out with the setting sun that just then sank
from sight in the blood-red waters of the Dragon's Mouth.




CHAPTER XIII

IN THE WORLD'S MOST MARVELLOUS CITY


Stunned by the terrible news he had just heard, Rob sat silent, trying
to think of all that it meant to him, while his new acquaintance,
shocked at the unexpected result of his chance remark, tried in vain
to console him. It might not be so bad as reported, he said, for such
things always were exaggerated. Probably, Rob would find that his
parents had escaped and were safe in Canton. Perhaps the massacre had
extended only to native Christians, as often was the case; or, it was
more than likely that the Hinckleys had been warned of the outbreak in
time to leave Wu Hsing before it took place.

"They couldn't leave," answered Rob, "for my father was too ill to
travel." Then, wishing to be alone with his great sorrow, the lad
abruptly rose and went to his state-room, which he did not again leave
that night.

As it was not advisable for the steamer to reach Canton before sunrise,
she stopped about ten o'clock and remained at anchor until daybreak,
when she again was got under way. An hour later Rob was wakened from a
troubled dream of fighting, killing, and burning by such a confusion
of yells, splashings, and other strange sounds that he rushed out on
deck with the idea that his dream had become a reality. Once in the open
he gazed upon a scene unique and unparalleled. The steamer was slowly
making her way against the swift current of a turbid river, along the
water-front of the most marvellous city in all the world. She was moving
amid a vast collection of floating craft, from fine, English-built
Chinese war-ships and foreign gun-boats down through junks of all sizes,
stern-wheel "kick-boats" propelled by man-power, gorgeous mandarin-boats
gay with fluttering flags, house-boats, flower-boats--which are floating
palaces in which men of wealth give expensive dinners--silk-boats,
rice-boats, and produce-barges from up-river; fishing-boats, duck-boats,
long, slender--paddling-canoes known as snake-boats, besides thousands
of sampans and slipper-boats, that ply for hire in any capacity, and on
which half a million of people are born, live, and die, in many cases
without ever setting foot on land.

So poor are these sampan dwellers, and so greatly is the supply of
their labor in excess of the demand for it, that they struggle with
one another for the chance of making even a single "cash," which is
valued at one-tenth of a penny. In the present instance scores of
sampans, propelled by sweeps or sculling-oars, were racing towards
the _Fatshan_, their occupants screaming, gesticulating, firing off
crackers, and beating gongs to attract the attention of her passengers.
All these craft looked exactly alike, and were about twenty-five feet
long by eight feet wide. Each had a small, open deck forward, on
which a man, standing and facing the bow, rowed with a pair of sweeps.
There was an arch-roofed house amidships, and aft of it a covered deck
occupied by a woman, who worked a long sculling-oar, by means of which
she both steered and propelled the light craft. Not one of these boats
was painted, but all were colored alike with pungent smelling Ning-Po
varnish.

From every sampan peered round-faced, solemn-eyed children, boys and
girls, all wearing pig-tails and dressed alike, and looking alike,
except that the smaller boys generally had bladders, squares of cork, or
billets of a light wood fastened to their shoulders to keep them afloat
in case they fell overboard. The girls were held to be of so much less
value that for them life-preservers were not thought of. Whenever these
children were more than four or five years old they helped, or attempted
to help, their parents with the oars, while those of younger age took
care of the babies.

In the rush towards the steamer of these queer-looking and queerly
manned craft they were in constant collision, smashing recklessly
together, apparently striving to overturn one another, or to push their
rivals out of the way. If one succeeded in making fast, others would
hold on to her until the single grass-plaited rope would break, and all
would be swept astern in the swift current, their crews screaming and
shaking fists at one another as they went.

It was bedlam and babel, sea-fights and water-sports, commercial rivalry
and insanity, all mixed into one grand helter-skelter of confusion; and
yet, so far as the interested spectators could note, no one was drowned,
nor even hurt, though, apparently, no one would have cared a snap if
every one else had come to serious grief.

The Chinese passengers from the lower deck of the _Fatshan_ swarmed into
such sampans as succeeded in making fast, their queer-looking luggage,
done up in matting, was pitched after them, and away they went as
though each second was too precious to be wasted. Such of the foreign
passengers as were tourists or globe-trotters, visiting Canton out of
curiosity, were engaging guides to show them the sights of the wonderful
city, and arranging for sedan-chairs, in which they were to be borne on
the shoulders of coolies through its endless miles of swarming streets.

There are no wheeled vehicles in these granite-paved thoroughfares,
and no beasts of burden, for the broadest and most important street
of Canton is but eight feet wide, while in most of them a tall man
standing in the middle may touch the houses on either side with his
extended finger-tips. From these threadlike passages, packed with
blue-clad, yellow-visaged humanity, and reeking with filth, open the
narrow portals of shops whose contents would dazzle an Aladdin. Each
dim doorway is barred against the entrance by a tiny altar, from which
ascends, never-endingly, the incense of smouldering joss-sticks; but
once the uninviting entrance has been passed, the visitor finds himself
in another world.

The interior is scrupulously clean, and its perfumed atmosphere is
that of quiet elegance. He is met by smiling attendants clad in silken
garments and shod with noiseless felt, who bow profoundly before him,
at the same time cordially shaking their own hands in token of welcome.
They invite him to be seated in wonderfully carved chairs, lined with
silken cushions, and darkly lustrous with the polish of ages. Tiny
tables of marvellous inlay are set before him, and from them he is
invited to drink of amber-colored tea served in egg-shell porcelain.
Afterwards the hidden wealth of the establishment is brought forth,
piece by piece, for his inspection, and it is intimated that these
things are for sale, though he never is urged to purchase.

Or he is conducted from room to room, lighted from interior courts
and filled with the most exquisite specimens of human handiwork known
to the world. Here are silk embroideries of a beauty, delicacy, and
texture not found elsewhere, exquisitely carved ivories, startling
designs, boldly executed in lacquer, gold, and silver, jade, crystal,
and precious stones. Here are feather-work and brass-work, priceless
porcelains and cloisonné, softest crêpes and gossamer linens, black
wood furniture graved with the painstaking skill that workmen of the
Western world bestow only upon precious metals. All these things, and
an infinity of others equally desirable, are passed in slow succession
by the deft-handed attendants before the fascinated gaze of the foreign
visitor, until he longs for the wealth of a Croesus, and is only
withheld from purchasing to the full extent of his means by memory of
the grim customs officials who so surely await his homecoming.

From these places where things are sold the sightseer in Canton is
borne away to places where things are made, or to temples, pagodas, and
execution grounds. Perhaps he is permitted to enter the yamen of some
wealthy mandarin, and, merely by passing through an enclosing wall of
buildings, finds himself transferred in a minute from the filth and
squalor of the narrow street, with its swarms of jargon-yelling coolies
and leprous beggars, dimly filtered light and overpowering smells, into
a place of sunlight and clean air, a fairy-land of trees and flowers, of
singing birds, shaded walks, and plashing waters, of quiet and coolness,
strangely attractive architecture--a place of gratified senses and
restful luxury.

But none of these things was for Rob Hinckley--at least, not on this
occasion, for instead of being a sensation-seeking tourist he merely was
a sorrow-stricken lad, friendless in a great, pitiless city, well-nigh
penniless, and desperately uncertain which way to move. He turned sick
with apprehension as he gazed from one side of the steamer to the bund,
or landing-place, where gangs of half-naked coolies grunted and sweated
under their burdens of freight, or from the other to the yelling sampan
crews ready to fight for a cent's worth of patronage. To him they
resembled the myriad occupants of a gigantic ant-hill, and appeared
equally lacking in human sympathies.

Rob was faint from the exhaustion of his almost sleepless and supperless
night, and at length realizing his most pressing need, he sought
breakfast in the saloon. From this he returned to the deck a half-hour
later, refreshed and strengthened, but still as uncertain as ever
regarding his next move. Then all at once his uncertainty vanished, for
the very first object that caught his eye as he stepped outside was that
which is most dear and most beautiful to all Americans, especially when
seen in a foreign land--the flag of the stars and stripes. It was at
some distance up the river, blowing out strong and free, high above the
only clump of trees in view, and besides it no other flag was visible.

In Canton, while most of the greater nations own their legation
buildings, the United States is satisfied to lodge its representative in
rented quarters. To offset this humiliation, so far as lay in his power,
the American consul-general had raised a noble flag-staff, so much
taller than those of his neighbors that the starry banner flown from its
top was the most conspicuous flag in all Canton. Now it waved a friendly
greeting to poor Rob, filling him with renewed hope, and bidding him
come to it for aid in this time of trouble.

Nor did our lad hesitate to accept its invitation; but, noting the
general direction to be taken, he ran down the gang-plank and plunged
boldly into the seething mass of blue-clad humanity thronging the
narrow thoroughfares of China's greatest city. A little later, guided
by occasional glimpses of the flag as he went, he had gained a bridge
spanning a canal that separates the city proper from the Shameen, a
beautiful, tree-shaded island on which stand the foreign legations,
dwellings, and business houses of Canton.

At the city end of this bridge was a barrier having two wrought-iron
gates, one large and one very small. As the latter stood hospitably
open, Rob was about to pass through it when the Chinese gatekeeper
hurriedly flung open the other, at the same time respectfully informing
him that it was reserved for Europeans (all white foreigners in China
are known as Europeans), while the little gate was for the passage of
such natives as are allowed on the Shameen.

The incident was trifling, but it wonderfully restored the
self-confidence of our young American, and as he walked proudly through
the big gate, which was closed with a slam behind him, he felt quite
ready to face and defy the whole Chinese nation. Turning up a shaded and
well-kept walk lined with substantial houses, each standing in its own
grounds, he again sought for a glimpse of the flag, but in vain, for the
foliage above which it waved was so thick as to hide it from below. In
this dilemma Rob approached a gentleman who stood at a front gate, in
company with a group of Chinese, with a view of inquiring his direction
to the American consulate. As he drew near he overheard the gentleman,
who looked like an American, say loudly, slowly, and very distinctly:

"I've told you over and over that I don't understand one word you say,
and unless you can speak English there is no use of your trying to talk
business with me. You wanchee catch one talkee man--sabe?"

"Perhaps I can help you, sir," said Rob, stepping up at that minute. "I
understand and speak some Chinese."

"If you only can and will, I shall be ever so much obliged," replied the
American, "for I am quite sure these fellows have something important to
communicate. But I am a new-comer here, without a word of the lingo, and
our interpreter has not yet put in an appearance this morning."

So Rob talked and interpreted with the result that a few minutes later
the situation in question was fully understood by both parties, and the
Chinese departed quite satisfied.

"If I only could talk it as you do!" said the gentleman, enviously.
"Won't you step inside for a cup of tea?"

"No, I thank you," replied Rob. "I only stopped to inquire my way to the
American consulate. I want to see the consul-general on most important
business."

"Then I am very sorry to say that he has gone to Hong-Kong, and will not
return for a week."

"Oh!" cried Rob; "what shall I do? Perhaps you can tell me something
about a reported massacre of missionaries at Wu Hsing. Did it really
occur?"

"I believe it did, though that was before I came out; but I hope you
hadn't any friends there."

"My father and mother were there."

"You poor fellow! That, indeed, is a bitter blow. May I ask your name?"

"It is Hinckley."

"Not a son of Dr. Mason Hinckley?" inquired the other, eagerly.

"Yes."

"Then you needn't worry any more, for Dr. Hinckley and his wife left for
America just before the outbreak, and are a long way towards the land of
safety by this time."




CHAPTER XIV

A TURN OF FORTUNE'S TIDE


For a moment Rob's heart beat quick with joy and his face became
radiant; then it clouded again as he said, quietly:

"I think you must be mistaken, sir; for I received a cablegram in
America that my father was too ill to travel, and longed to see me
before he died. That is the reason I am now here."

"No," asserted the stranger, whose name, as Rob afterwards learned, was
Bishop, "I am confident there can be no mistake, for I saw Dr. and Mrs.
Mason Hinckley in Hong-Kong. I was newly arrived, and had gone with an
acquaintance to arrange for a lot of stuff to be taken aboard the Canton
boat. While we were there, another boat of the same line came in from
the upper Si Kiang. She had but two European passengers, a lady, and her
husband who was so weak from illness that we assisted him to a carriage.
My friend knew them slightly, and after they were gone he told me that
they were a missionary doctor and his wife from Wu Hsing, that their
name was Hinckley, that the doctor had been critically ill, but had most
unexpectedly rallied, so that he was able to travel, and that they were
to leave for the States on the _China_, which sailed that evening. All
this was distinctly impressed on my mind by the news of the Wu Hsing
outbreak, which came a week later, and I was glad to remember that two
at least of the possible victims had escaped in time."

Rob listened breathlessly to these details, and, when Mr. Bishop
finished speaking, he exclaimed: "They are alive, then, and safe! If
I only had known, and stayed quietly where I was! Do you remember the
date, sir, on which you saw them in Hong-Kong?"

"Yes, it was the 10th of last month."

"The very day on which I was to have sailed from Tacoma, and they must
have sent another cable after I left Hatton. It's all right, though, and
I am too glad to care about anything else."

"It is too bad that you have missed each other, and still are on
opposite sides of the world; but I suppose you will follow them by the
next homeward-bound steamer, and so rejoin them inside of another six
weeks. I envy you, and only wish I had a prospect of again seeing the
States within the same number of months."

"I expect your chance is several times better than mine," laughed Rob,
who for the moment was too light-hearted to give a serious thought to
his own awkward predicament. "I would go quick enough if I could, but I
haven't the money even to pay my fare to Hong-Kong. So it looks as if
I'd have to stay here until I can earn the price of a ticket back to
where I have just come from. Do you happen to know of any one who could
give me a job?"

"I can't say at this moment," replied Mr. Bishop, regarding the lad
keenly as he spoke; "but I may think of some one. Where are you staying?"

"Nowhere. I only came on this morning's boat, and my baggage still is on
board."

"Then suppose you get it up here and stay with me for a day or two while
you look around. I've a big house, with plenty of room, and shall be
glad of your company. Besides, I expect you can help me a good deal with
my Chinese studies."

"All right, sir," assented Rob, promptly accepting this proposition,
"and I'll be back inside of an hour."

With this our lad hurried away, saying to himself as he went: "I believe
I must be one of the luckiest fellows in the world, and only a little
while ago I thought I was one of the most miserable. My biggest bit of
luck, though, was having Jo come to live at Hatton and teach me Chinese,
for that seems about the most valuable accomplishment a fellow can have
out here. I do wonder what became of him."

Rob crossed the canal bridge, went out through the big gate, that
promptly was opened at his approach, and turned down Heavenly Clouds
Street with the assured air of one who had resided in Canton all his
life. Then he received a shock, and at the same time proved himself
to be one of the very newest of new arrivals in that crafty city of
poverty-sharpened wits. On a bit of straw matting, spread above the
granite flagging of the narrow roadway, lay a child three or four years
old, apparently in the very grasp of death. Its eyes were closed, its
pale features were distorted as though by a spasm; it was gasping for
breath, and its hands were tightly clinched, while its poor little body
was only partially hidden beneath a bit of ragged, blue cloth. Beside
the dying child knelt a mother, bending over it and rocking her body
to and fro in an agony of grief, while tears streamed from her eyes.
She, too, was clad in rags, and evidently was in the last extremity of
poverty, since she had not even a kennel in which to conceal her dying
child from the curious gaze of the swarming street. No one stopped to
speak with her or to offer her the slightest aid in this time of her
sore distress; and as Rob, with swelling heart, gazed on this pitiful
picture, he said to himself that all Chinese were brutes and unworthy
the name of human beings.

"Can't something be done for them?" he asked of a passer-by, and
speaking in Chinese; but the man only laughed and hurried on without
answering. Then Rob spoke to the woman herself, but her grief was too
great to permit her to take heed, and she only stroked the face of her
dying child with gestures of despair. At this, feeling powerless to aid
her by any other means, Rob drew a silver dollar from his pocket and
gently laid it on the mat beside the little sufferer. Then he hurried
away.

While he was within sight the woman did not alter her position nor
offer to pick up his gift. Only when he had disappeared, and the
stealthy hand of a street urchin was about to close over the coveted
coin, did she snatch it from the mat, spring to her feet, deal the
would-be thief a stinging box on the ear, pick up her opium-drugged
child, and serenely walk away, well satisfied with the success of her
carefully planned tableau. When Rob returned that way he wondered what
had become of the dying child who had so excited his sympathies, and it
was only on the following day, when he again saw them at the same place,
going through the same performance, that he realized how he had been
duped.

On that first morning he transferred his belongings from the steamer
to the house of his newly made friend, who told him that, as there was
nothing in particular for him to do just then, he was free to go where
he pleased. So he strolled to the riverfront of the Shameen, where
from one of the tree-shaded benches, placed at intervals along its
length, he watched the wonderful life of the river, with its swarming
junks and sampans. After a while, attracted by a huge white-and-yellow
nondescript-appearing craft, moored in the stream at some distance above
where he sat, he walked in that direction for a closer view. He had
proceeded but a few steps when he was more than ever puzzled to note
that above the object of his curiosity floated an American flag, while
he also could see the grim muzzles of enormous guns protruding from
various parts of its superstructure. It evidently was a ship of some
kind, and also a man-of-war; but to Rob's eyes it was of even stranger
appearance than the closely packed acres of Chinese craft surrounding
it. He finally decided that it must be a wreck, resting on the bottom
of the river, since its deck appeared to be but a few inches above the
turbid waters, and he wondered why its crew, sauntering back and forth
beneath the awnings, did not exhibit more concern.

While Rob thus was puzzling, a young man, wearing the uniform of an
American naval officer, walked briskly up to where he was standing, and
signalled a sampan.

"Can you tell me, sir," asked our lad, addressing this officer, "what
American ship that is out there, and how she got wrecked?"

"Wrecked!" repeated the other. "What do you mean by wrecked? She looks
all right to me. Is anything the matter with the old packet?"

"Of course, I don't know much about wrecks," replied Rob, a little
nettled by the officer's tone, "but if a ship sunk to the bottom of a
Chinese river, nearly ten thousand miles from home, isn't wrecked, then
the word must mean something different from what I think it does."

"But she isn't sunk. She's floating all right, and showing fully as much
freeboard as she did when we brought her across the Pacific, nearly two
years ago. Monitors always look that way, you know."

"Monitor! Is she a monitor?" cried Rob, who never before had seen one of
this peculiarly American type of war-ship.

"To be sure. She is the United States monitor _Monterey_, one of the
finest of her class, and, with the exception of her sister-ship, the
_Monadnock_, now at Shanghai, the most powerful fighting-machine now
afloat in Asiatic waters. Wouldn't you like to go aboard and take a look
at her?"

Of course, Rob gladly accepted this invitation, and, entering the sampan
with Lieutenant Hibbard, was sculled out to the floating fortress, which
always lies off Canton, providing a safe-refuge for foreigners against a
storm of wrath such as sometimes sweeps over that turbulent city. She is
at the same time a most effective peace-keeper, since the Chinese know
as well as any one that her powerful guns could within a few hours lay
their metropolis in ruins.

The _Monterey_ is famous as having been the first ship of her class to
cross the Pacific to Manila, where she added such strength to Dewey's
handful of war-ships as to render his position there impregnable.

On gaining her side Rob found the rail to be quite two feet above
water, instead of only a few inches, as he had supposed. He also found
her to be of great breadth of beam, with wide sweeps of unencumbered
deck, both forward and aft. Safely below the water-line he found roomy,
well-ventilated quarters for officers and crew, as well as ample engine,
coal, and ammunition spaces. He marvelled at her huge guns, polished
until they shone, mounted fore and aft in steel turrets of a strength
and construction to defy the most powerful of modern missiles. At the
same time, these could be revolved at will, by a mechanism so delicate
as to be controlled by a finger. Rob took tiffin with the officers of
the ward-room mess, whom he entertained with news from the States and
from Manila, and when, late in the afternoon, he again was set on shore,
he felt that his first day in Canton, in spite of its clouded beginning,
had been one of the very happiest and most interesting of his life.

That evening Mr. Bishop, whom our lad regarded at once as friend and
employer, found leisure for a long conversation with him, during which
he said:

"As you probably know, one of the most valuable railway concessions in
China, that for a line from this city to Hankow, on the Yang-tse-kiang,
nearly a thousand miles due north from here, has been granted to an
American syndicate. Another concession, for a line from Hankow to Pekin,
was granted a year earlier to the Belgians. These two railways, meeting
at the metropolis of Central China, will form a grand trunk-line,
extending nearly two thousand miles north and south through the
very heart of the empire. The Belgians already are at work on the
construction of their line, while the Americans have made their surveys
and are ready to begin construction. I am an American engineer, employed
by the syndicate, and, as a preliminary step to my further work, I am
about to undertake a journey of investigation from here to Hankow,
and, possibly, on to Pekin. My plans for this journey are so nearly
completed that I could start to-morrow; but I have not as yet secured a
satisfactory interpreter. Will you accept the position? The trip will
be long, and to a certain extent dangerous, but the pay will, I think,
be sufficient to carry you from Shanghai to America after our journey
is completed. What do you say? Are you ready to plunge into the heart
of China, and bury yourself from the world for the next two or three
months, or do you prefer to remain here and look for some easier job?"




CHAPTER XV

IN THE HEART OF UNKNOWN CHINA


That Rob accepted Mr. Bishop's proposition goes without saying, for he
was an American boy, and, as such, was filled to the brim with a genuine
love of the adventure and excitement attending explorations in strange
countries. Thus, two days after the offer was made, he found himself
a very important member of an expedition setting forth from the great
southern city of Canton and bound for the far north. Two months later,
a junk, flying the American flag and having on board our travellers,
drifted with the tawny flood of the mighty Yang-tse-kiang (Son of the
Sea River) along the crowded water-front of Hankow, a city of such
commercial energy that it is known as the Chicago of China.

During the weeks that had elapsed since they left the last traces of
Western civilization at Canton, they had seen no white man nor heard
a word of English, except such as they spoke to each other. They had
travelled by sampan up the North River and the Wu Shin, across the
province of Kwang-tung, to the head of navigation at Ping-Shih. Here
they had engaged coolies to transport their luggage, camp outfit, and
provisions over the "carry," thirty miles long, across the Nan-Ling
Mountains, to Chen-Chow, a quaint, old, walled town, marking the
head of navigation on the Yu-tan River, a branch of the Sian Kiang,
which in turn flows northward into the Yang-tse. There they had once
more chartered a junk; and, always accompanied by a couple of slim,
light-draught Chinese guard-boats, had sailed, poled, or drifted across
the great inland province of Hu-nan, which is half again as large as the
State of New York.

Although always using their boat as headquarters and for the
transportation of supplies, the two Americans had travelled most of the
way by land, on foot, on pony-back, or in sedan-chairs borne by coolies.
They had slept in temples, examination-halls, tea hongs (warehouses), in
official yamens, and occasionally, but never when they could help it,
in crowded, vermin-infested taverns, always surrounded by throngs of
excited spectators, who poked holes through the paper windows or widened
cracks in the floors of overhead rooms to gratify their curiosity by
peering at the ridiculous-looking barbarians.

While crossing the Nan-Ling Mountains they had traversed a portion
of one of China's great national highways, constructed thousands of
years ago, and apparently never since repaired. Originally fifteen
feet of its width was paved with large, flat stones, four feet square,
and from one foot to eighteen inches thick. Many of these stones had
disappeared, no one could tell how, nor where to, leaving gaping and
bottomless mud-holes to entrap the unwary. The remaining blocks were
deeply hollowed by the bare feet of millions of burden-bearing coolies
and scored with wheelbarrow grooves. This great highway was formerly
lined along its hundreds of miles of length with temples, tea-houses,
rest-houses, and shops; but such of these as have not disappeared are
now in ruins, and serve only as haunts for highwaymen, lepers, and
beggars.

In the remote past the several states or provinces of China were
independent kingdoms, waging war upon one another; and even to this day
the inhabitants of each province regard the people of those adjoining
as "foreigners." So they fortified themselves against one another,
and our explorers were so fortunate as to come across one of these
fortifications. It was a high and very thick wall of masonry, having
battlements and massive gateway, surmounted by a watch-tower, built on
a boundary-line across the highway, where the latter occupied a narrow
valley. The hills on either hand were low enough to be easy of ascent,
but the impregnable wall reached only from side to side of the valley.

"What's the matter with walking around an end of it?" asked Rob, staring
at this triumph of defensive architecture.

"Nothing at all, that I can see," replied the engineer. "Only, I
suppose, no Chinese ever would think of doing so."

Again the road led over a high, arched bridge that once had crossed
a stream; but the stream had altered its course and gone elsewhere,
perhaps hundreds of years ago, since no trace even of its bed now
remained. But because the road went over the bridge the cargo coolies,
grunting beneath their burdens, continued to toil up the steep ascent
and down the other side, without ever a thought of making a new path
around it.

"I won't climb over it, at any rate," declared Rob. So he and the
engineer walked around; their own coolies followed them like a flock of
sheep, and those on the bridge stared in amazement at the barbarians who
thus dared depart from established custom.

Although other American engineers had preceded our travellers through
this country, the foreigner was still such a novelty that they were
viewed by thousands of people who never before had seen one, and who
crowded about them in embarrassing throngs. At the same time they never
were ill-treated nor even molested; for the Chinese, unless roused to
a blind fury by wrongs, real or fancied, are the most peaceable and
courteous of people. To be sure, our friends nearly always were spoken
of and addressed as "fan kwei" (foreign devils); but this was because
the natives never had heard foreigners called anything else.

To Mr. Bishop's surprise he discovered, or rather Rob discovered for
him, that many of the Hu-nan people, instead of being opposed to the
construction of a railway through their country, were desirous for its
coming. Not on account of the facilities it would offer for travel and
the transportation of their products, but because it was rumored far
and wide that it would pay liberally for such graves as must be removed
from its right-of-way. Formerly, and even now in certain districts,
the grave problem was, and is, one of the most serious encountered by
the projectors of Chinese railways. Finally it was made a commercial
proposition, and the railway companies agreed to pay for such graves as
came within their lines at a rate of eight taels (about eleven dollars)
apiece. Now, such of the Chinese as understand this arrangement are more
than willing thus to turn their ancestors to profitable account.

As the dead are not collected in regularly established burying-grounds,
but are scattered about in fields, gardens, or wherever it is most
convenient to place them, and as the entire country is thickly sown
with these precious relics, no line can be so run as to avoid them.
Consequently they must be bought up and removed. For some time Rob
could not account for the great anxiety shown by the natives to learn
the exact location of the line. Finally, however, he discovered that
those persons having graves known to be on the line could raise money on
them in advance, while such as had none proposed to borrow or purchase
a few ancestors at places so remote as to be beyond a possibility of
disturbance and rebury them in more profitable locations.

In the cities of Siang-tan and Chang-sha, both on waters navigable
by large Yang-tse junks, our travellers found shops equipped with
foreign goods, and notably with American flour, prints, and canned
foods, though they did not meet an American nor a European in either
place. This discovery was of particular interest to Mr. Bishop, as the
appearance in those remote localities, and under existing conditions, of
these goods promised a vast extension of similar trade upon completion
of the railway he was about to build.

Thus the entire trip had proved intensely interesting, and its results
were so highly satisfactory that, as it drew to a close with their near
approach to Hankow, our explorers already were preparing for another
journey from that point to Pekin.

Much as they had enjoyed the one just ending, they were not sorry to
see European buildings in the mission compounds and along the bund at
Hankow, and it was good to hear their own speech once more. It also was
good to sit down to an American table, eat home-cooked food, and, above
all, to sleep between sheets in American beds. But with all these things
to be enjoyed came two disappointments. Rob's lay in the entire absence
of the letters that he had hoped to find awaiting him at this point.
From Canton he had written both to his uncle and his parents at Hatton,
requesting answers to be sent to Hankow, but the eagerly expected
letters had not appeared. A number awaited Mr. Bishop, and in them lay
his disappointment, for certain of them contained news that rendered it
necessary for him to return at once to Canton. Thus he must give up the
proposed overland journey to Pekin.

"It is too bad!" he exclaimed. "There is so much I want to find out
about that northern line, its construction, the nature of the country
it traverses, the feeling of the people regarding it, and a dozen other
things. Now I must indefinitely postpone the trip, and so remain in
ignorance of many things most important for me to know."

"I wish I could go for you," suggested Rob.

"That is an idea worth considering!" exclaimed the engineer. "And I
don't see why you shouldn't collect the very information I want. You are
pretty well broken into the work by this time. But would you dare travel
another thousand miles through China, alone, and in view of the rumors
of trouble that we have been hearing lately?"

"Of course I would," replied Rob, scornfully. "I can't see but what it
is just as safe to travel here as in any other country, especially when
one knows the ways of the people and their language as well as I do."

The conversation on this subject was long and earnest, but at its
conclusion it had been decided that Rob Hinckley, provided with ample
funds, should travel as special commissioner of the American railway
syndicate from Hankow to Pekin. From the latter city he would return by
rail and sea to Hong-Kong, where Mr. Bishop would meet him and receive
his report.

"By that time," said the latter, "your pay surely will amount to enough
to carry you to America, with a substantial surplus besides."

The only condition made by our lad was that, upon his arrival in
Shanghai, Mr. Bishop should cable to the States for information
concerning Rob's parents, and should transmit the same to Pekin, there
to await the latter's arrival.

A couple of days later the companions who had travelled so far and
endured so much together separated, the engineer to proceed by steamer
down the Yang-tse-kiang to Shanghai, and thence by ship to Hong-Kong,
and Rob, so confident in his own resources as not to dream of dangers
that he could not overcome, taking train for the north over the short
section of Belgian railway already constructed. It carried him to the
border of the province of Ho-nan. Across this province and to the
Hoang-ho, or Yellow River, he made his way successfully, though not
without encountering many difficulties during the following month. Then
his real troubles began, for no sooner had he crossed the great river,
which, on account of its frequent devastating floods, is called "China's
Sorrow," than he found himself on the edge of a fierce "storm of wrath"
that threatened to sweep over the entire empire.

An almost unprecedented drought had prevailed over the whole of the vast
plain of northern China for nearly three years. For two years there had
been no crops, and now the same dreadful condition was promised for
the third. Everywhere were starving, desperate people, who, in their
ignorance, attributed their woes to the evil influence of foreigners,
and especially to the missionaries, who sought to overthrow the gods of
the country.

The priests taught that the angry gods thus were punishing the unbelief
of the people, and that prosperity never would return to their land
until every foreigner was driven from it. Thus it happened that the
inhabitants of three provinces were rising against missionaries and
railway-builders, robbing and killing all who did not fly in time,
burning and destroying their property, as well as that of all native
converts to the new religion. At the same time they were making
pilgrimages to the shrines of their own gods, and imploring them to once
more send the life-giving rains.

Rob heard rumors of these things, but, believing them to be exaggerated,
refused to turn back. So he pushed doggedly ahead, ever nearing the
storm-centre. Finally, late one day, as he approached a walled town in
which he expected to obtain lodging for the night, he suddenly found
himself beset by a mob of frantic rain-dancers, who rushed upon him from
a sacred grove by the road-side. The slender escort of soldiers that had
thus far accompanied our lad instantly took to their heels, leaving him
alone to face the hundreds of yelling demons, who firmly believed that,
if they could take his life, the act would be pleasing to their insulted
gods.




CHAPTER XVI

"FISTS OF RIGHTEOUS HARMONY"


The people of China have suffered much at the hands of foreigners,
and, in their ignorance of everything beyond their own line of vision,
imagine many grievances that really do not exist. Once China was the
foremost nation of the earth in arts, literature, commerce, and all that
goes to the making of what we call civilization. She invented, used, and
forgot a thousand things that the Western world is only now discovering.
She was sufficient unto herself, and desired only to be let alone.

But the Western nations would not let her alone. They insisted upon
forcing their unwelcome trade into the country; and, moreover, upon
conducting it themselves, according to their own ideas. When she
resisted their demands they took possession of her seaports, destroyed
her forts and war-ships, placed their own steamers, protected by
gun-boats, on her rivers, monopolized her coasting trade, and even
appropriated as their own, large slices of her territory.

Thus, while England holds the island of Hong-Kong, together with
two hundred square miles of the opposite mainland, Shanghai, and
Wei-hai-Wei, besides controlling the trade of the great Yang-tse
Valley, Russia, on the north, has seized Manchuria, Germany occupies
the province of Shan-tung, Portugal has for three hundred years been
established at Macao, and France, the chief aggressor, already in
possession of Anam and Tonquin, is making insidious but certain progress
northward through Yunan, with covetous eyes cast in the direction of
Canton, where she already has gained a foothold. Japan owns the great
Chinese island of Formosa, and only awaits a favorable opportunity for
seizing the opposite mainland province of Fu-Kien, while even Italy has
laid claim to a Chinese port and "sphere of influence."

All these foreign nations, together with Americans and Belgians, are
building, or are proposing to build, railways in China, and all of them,
with the further additions of Canada and Sweden, are overrunning the
bewildered country with missionaries of clashing denominations, each
one of which teaches that it only is right, while all the others are
wrong. Some of these foreign teachers even go so far as to interfere
with local governments, taking upon themselves the office of magistrate,
administering the laws according to their own interpretation, and always
in favor of their own converts, and at the same time demanding to be
accorded all outward forms of respect due only to mandarins.

On the other hand, the great mass of Chinese, groping in the darkness
of the Middle Ages, burdened by densest ignorance, steeped in
superstition, robbed by their rulers to the extreme of poverty, and
forced to unceasing toil from long before daylight until long after dark
every day of the week throughout every year of their joyless lives, are
taught by their priests, and by others of their own race to whom they
look for guidance, that all their sorrows, including floods, famines,
and plagues, are caused by the foreigners who are spreading over their
country with the ultimate intention of seizing it and subjecting its
people to their own barbarous customs. They are told that these same
foreigners sweep the rain-clouds from one portion of the sky to cause
droughts, and gather them at another to produce devastating floods, and
that they poison wells to bring on plagues. They are made to believe
that the "foreign devils" collect Chinese children in asylums, homes,
and hospitals for the sole purpose of extracting their eyes, to be
used in enchantments; that every railway-sleeper, and the foundations
of every Christian edifice, are laid upon living human bodies; and a
thousand other tales, equally monstrous but equally terrifying.

To remedy these evils the people are invited to form themselves into
associations, and thus gain strength for the destruction of the hated
foreign devils, or at least to drive them back into the sea, whence
they came. For the benefit of those who can read, pamphlets setting
forth these views are written, printed by the million, and distributed
throughout the land; while the minds of the more ignorant are inflamed
by pictured posters illustrating the horrors perpetrated by foreigners,
and posted broadcast in every direction.

To these invitations a Chinese readily responds; for there is nothing in
which he more greatly delights than to belong to an association of any
kind or for any purpose. Thus societies for the exclusion of foreigners
have sprung up like mushrooms, especially in those coast provinces
where foreign influences are most noticeable; and strongest of them
all is the great I-Ho-Chuan, or "Fists of Righteous Harmony" Society,
sometimes called "The Great Sword Society," but known to the world at
large as "Boxers," a name first used by the missionary correspondent of
a foreign journal. The motto of this society, as borne on its banners,
is, "Protect the empire! Exterminate foreigners!"

During the initiation of its members they fall into trances, and believe
that, while in this state, the spirits of departed heroes enter their
bodies. After that they are pronounced invulnerable to sword or bullet,
and are declared to be possessed of magic charms that no enemy may
withstand.

In 1898 the Boxer movement was checked by the sudden declaration of
China's young emperor, Kuang Hsu, in favor of sweeping reforms based
upon Western ideas. These he proceeded to carry out with unsuspected
energy, deposing corrupt officials in all parts of the empire, and
replacing them with others who had been educated abroad. He issued
edicts intended to revolutionize the army, the navy, the time-honored
but senseless methods of literary examination, and the manner of
collecting taxes, which, if obeyed, would place his people upon the
upward path of progress so recently and so successfully trodden by
Japan. There is no doubt that the Emperor was sincere in his avowed
determination to lift his distressed country from the depths to which
it was sunk; and had he remained in power the awful Boxer uprising of
two years later never would have taken place. But his enemies were
too strong; and, after a few months of praiseworthy effort, the young
reformer was overthrown by a powerful palace clique, headed by his great
aunt, the Empress Dowager, and composed of the high officials whom he
had removed from office. They forced him to sign a decree announcing his
own abdication of the throne, and again the Empress Dowager, China's
worst enemy, assumed the reins of power.

At once all reform decrees were repealed, the old order of things was
restored, and hatred of foreigners was preached more loudly and more
bitterly than ever. A new life was infused into the Boxer movement,
which from that moment spread like wildfire over the northern provinces,
until in the summer of 1900 it reached its height. During that dreadful
summer mission stations everywhere were looted and destroyed, while
their unfortunate occupants were driven out to be killed or cast into
loathsome prisons, from which death was their only release. Christian
converts were massacred by scores and hundreds, railroad property was
destroyed, and railroad employés suffered the fate of missionaries. A
rumor to the effect that all foreigners, including members of legations,
had been driven from Pekin, was generally believed; as was another,
stating that every foreign resident of Tien-Tsin had been killed. Above
all, it was understood that the Empress Dowager was in full sympathy
with the movement to rid her kingdom of foreigners, and would render
every assistance in her power to those engaged in the effort.

Such was the condition of affairs in north China when, in the early
summer of 1900, the young American, Rob Hinckley, on a peaceful mission
to Pekin, suddenly found himself deserted and alone in the presence of
a mob of crazed fanatics, intent upon taking his life. Our lad did not
know why they wished to kill him; for, since leaving the Yang-tse River,
he had found an ever-increasing difficulty in comprehending the dialect
spoken by the common people, until at length it had become wholly
incomprehensible. Thus he knew almost nothing of the Boxer movement, nor
of the awful state of affairs existing in the country between him and
Pekin.

He, however, instantly recognized the danger of his present position,
and, clapping spurs to the jaded pony he was riding, he dashed away in
the direction of the nearest city gate, with the mob in full cry at
his heels. The distance was short, and Rob was within fifty feet of
the outer gate, with a good lead of his pursuers, when all at once it
occurred to him that he was about to jump from the frying-pan into the
fire, since once within the city walls his enemies could close all exits
and hunt him down at their leisure. With this he pulled his pony so
sharply to one side that the animal, already exhausted to the point of
dropping, stumbled and fell, flinging Rob to earth over his head. As the
lad scrambled to his feet he was amazed to hear in English a shout of--

"Keep on to the gate! It's your only chance!"

Although he could see no one in that direction, the voice seemed to come
from the gateway itself; and, as his madly yelling pursuers were now
close upon him, Rob accepted the advice so strangely given and darted
forward on his original course.

[Illustration: "HIS MADLY YELLING PURSUERS WERE NOW CLOSE UPON HIM"]

A few minutes earlier a young Chinese, clad in the uniform of an officer
of imperial troops, stood at a narrow loop-hole in the watch-tower above
the city gate, gazing listlessly outward over a vast expanse of flat,
parched, uninteresting country. He had carelessly noted the approach
from afar of Rob's little party, whom he supposed to be ordinary native
travellers, and had only been aroused from his apathy by the yells of
the rain-dancers, as they raised the cry of, "Death to the foreign
devil!"

"They must be mistaken," thought the officer, "for there can't be any
foreigners left in this part of the country." He watched Rob's flight
with ever-growing interest, and was about to descend from the tower so
as to meet him at the gate when the young American attempted to change
his pony's course. Then the watcher uttered the surprising call
that again altered Rob's determination, and in another moment he was
springing down the flight of stone steps leading to the outer gateway.
As he reached it, Rob had just entered, and was starting across the
barbican towards the inner gate.

"Stop!" shouted the young Chinese. "Come here quick and help me!"

Rob hesitated only the fraction of a second and then did as he was
bidden. The Chinese was straining at one of the two massive, iron-bound
doors of the gateway, and in another moment Rob was adding every ounce
of his own strength to the effort. It yielded slowly, and its hinges
creaked rustily as it swung heavily into place.

"Now the other, quick!" exclaimed the stranger, and with an effort that
nearly started blood from their swelling veins the two young fellows
closed the great valve in the very faces of the frantic outside mob that
flung themselves bodily against it mad with baffled rage. They could not
open it, for a stout iron bolt had dropped into place as the gate was
closed, and nothing short of a cannonade could now force an entrance.

"Follow me!" said the Chinese, huskily, and panting from his recent
exertion, at the same time turning up the narrow stairway leading to the
watch-tower, and Rob obeyed.

The latter was full of perplexity at finding in this out-of-the-way
place a Chinese who not only spoke English, but apparently was willing
to endanger himself to rescue a foreigner from a mob. So quick had been
all their movements since he darted through the gateway that he had not
yet obtained a view of his rescuer's face, and, of course, had not been
able to question him.

In the tower, at the top of the stairway, he found his strange companion
taking a quick view of the raging mob below. As he stepped to his
side, the young Chinese turned and stared him full in the eyes. For a
moment they regarded each other in amazed silence. Then a simultaneous
exclamation burst from their lips:

"Rob Hinckley!"

"Chinese Jo!"




CHAPTER XVII

LEAPING INTO UNKNOWN BLACKNESS


To the friends who had been so mysteriously separated many months
earlier, and on the other side of the world, their reunion at this place
and under such conditions was bewildering and incredible. They could
scarcely believe the evidence of their own eyes. The last time Rob had
seen Jo the latter had been shorn of his queue, while now his hair again
hung in a long, glossy braid. For a moment they stood clasping each
other's hand, after the fashion of the West, and staring without speech.
There was so much to be said that they could say nothing. Then they were
aroused to a sense of imminent danger by the sounds of ascending voices
and hurrying footsteps on the stone stairway. Evidently the present was
no time for explanations.

"Quick, Rob! Go up there and hide," whispered Jo, pointing, as he spoke,
to a rude ladder leading into the darkness of an upper loft. "Stay there
till I come or I cannot save you."

Even as he spoke, Jo turned to the stairway as though about to descend,
while Rob sprang to the ladder.

A Chinese soldier was so close at hand that he would have gained the
room and caught sight of the fugitive had not the young officer arrested
his progress with the stern inquiry:

"What is going on below? Are you all mad or drunk with the juice of
poppies? Cannot I meditate in peace without being disturbed by the
howlings of you swine? How dare you come up here without orders? Answer
me, dog, and son of generations of dogs, before I cause you to be beaten
with a hundred blows!"

The terrified soldier, who held a petty office, corresponding to that of
corporal of the guard, recoiled from the presence of his angry superior,
who, if he had chosen, could have him beaten even to death, and,
kotowing until his forehead touched the stones, answered:

"Know, your honorable excellency, that the outer gate has been closed
without knowledge of any in the guard-house, and beyond it many persons,
mad with anger, are clamorous for admittance. It is a mystery; and
before opening the gate I came up here for a look at the outsiders, to
make certain that they are not enemies."

"Closed, pig? How can it be that the gate is closed without orders from
me, the keeper of the gate? This thing must be examined into," cried
the young officer, with every appearance of extreme anger. "Let it be
opened without delay. But first come with me and look at these outside
howlers. It may be, even as your stupidity suggests, that they are men
from Chang-Chow, who have ever been unfriendly to this city because of
its greater prosperity."

This was said to give the soldier an opportunity for seeing that no
other person was in the room, which fact he would report to his comrades.

As they examined the furious crowd besieging the gate, Jo exclaimed,
even more angrily than before:

"Those be no Chang-Chow men, but our friends and own people. They are
the dancers, who, together with the good priests, pray constantly for
rain, and who went out to the shrine of the holy rain-god but an hour
ago. Ah, but you shall smartly suffer for closing a gate of their
own city against them. Hasten and open it again if you would have
the setting sun behold your worthless head still upon your wretched
shoulders."

Thus saying, the young officer spurned the trembling soldier with his
foot and followed him down the stairway. In another moment the great
gate was opened to the torrent of frantic humanity that rushed in
demanding to know what had become of the foreign devil whom they had
seen enter only a few minutes before, and where th

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