oke a shouting, wild-looking
mob of Chinamen came running down the road to the mission station. Halting
about twenty yards away from the mission wall, they waited until their
whole force had arrived, contenting themselves in the meanwhile with
yelling 'Down with the foreigners!' brandishing their weapons and waving
their flags. Soon there were quite three hundred Boxers in the road facing
the front of the mission, it being their hope to strike terror by a
display of their numbers.

At a signal from the leader of the Boxers, about fifty rifles were fired
point-blank at the wall. Fred raised his rifle, pressed the trigger, and
the Boxer leader threw up his arms and fell on his face. Fred's shot was
taken by the other defenders as the signal to fire, and they did so
promptly.

The surprise and terror of the Boxers on discovering that they were not
invulnerable formed a sight which none of the defenders will ever
forget. Every man was seized with a desire to escape from the
foreigners' bullets, and they turned and ran in confusion.

'Cease fire,' Barton commanded, when he saw the enemy routed, and Fred,
Charlie, and Ping Wang obeyed instantly.

'I don't fancy that the Boxers will trouble us again to-night,' Barton
said, a few minutes later, 'for their leaders will have some difficulty
after this in convincing them that they cannot be wounded. There is no
need for all of us to remain on duty. I dare say you fellows are hungry;
come inside.'

'We are not presentable,' Fred said. 'Just look at the rags we are
wearing.'

'They are pretty bad,' Barton admitted. 'Come into my room, and I'll see
if I can't find you some better ones.'

Barton went into the rooms of two other missionaries, and returned with
an armful of clothes. 'Now I will go and see about a meal for you,' he
said. 'I will be back in a few minutes.'

When he returned, he could not help smiling at what he saw. Ping Wang,
wishing to dress like his friends, had put on knickerbockers and a
college blazer, down the back of which hung his black, silky pigtail.
Charlie was wearing flannel trousers and a khaki tunic, while Fred was
attired in a black and somewhat moth-eaten suit, which was too short for
him both in arms and legs.

'You look better than you did,' Barton declared. 'But, now, come and
have your supper.'

He led the way along the verandah, and into a large airy room at the
back of the building, where the supper was laid. Four ladies were hard
at