The steward in attendance, who had stepped aside, made a warning gesture
and laid his finger on his lips.

For five minutes the man in the bunk and the one beside it looked
silently into each other's eyes, then the drawn lips moved, and
Reynolds, bending his head to listen, heard the broken question:

"You--no--blake--bargain?"

Reynolds's mind dashed at two conclusions and recoiled from each. Should
be follow his impulse to explain the whole affair, serious consequences
would result for Tsang, while the other alternative of accepting the
situation made him a party, albeit an innocent one, to a most
reprehensible proceeding. It was to his credit, that of the two courses
the latter was infinitely the more intolerable. He got up nervously,
then sat down again.

"No--blake--bargain!" repeated Tsang anxiously.

Still Reynolds waited for some prompting from a conscience unaccustomed
to being rusty. Any course that would involve the loyal little Chinaman,
who had played the game according to the rules as he knew them, was out
of the question. The money must be paid back, of course, but how, and
when? If he cleared himself at the office it might be years before he
could settle this new debt, but he could do it in time, he must do it.
Then at last, light came to him. He would accept Tsang's sacrifice but
it should stand for more than the mere material good it had purchased.
It should pledge him to a fresh start, a clean life. He would justify
the present by the future. He drew a deep breath of relief and leaned
forward:

"Tsang," he said, and his voice trembled with the earnestness of his
resolve, "I no break bargain. From now on my behave all same proper. It
wasn't right, old fellow, you oughtn't--" then he gave it up and smiled
helplessly, "you belong my good friend Tsang, what thing you wantchee?"

A slow smile broke the brass-like stillness of Tsang Foo's face:

"Pipe," he gasped softly, "opium velly good,--make land and sea--all
same--by an' by!"

THE WILD OATS OF A SPINSTER

Judging from appearances Miss Lucinda Perkins was justifying her reason
for being by conforming absolutely to her environment. She apparently
fitted as perfectly into her little niche in the Locustwood Seminary for
young ladies as Miss Joe Hill fitted into hers. The only difference was
that Miss Joe Hill did not confine herself to a niche; she filled the
seminary, as a plump hand does a tight glove.

It was the year after Miss Luc