ridges.'

'I object too,' said Charlie. 'It would be madness to run the risk of
losing our best shot. I will go and get the cartridges, and, with Mr.
Wilkins and you two to keep off any one who approaches me, I shall be
pretty safe.'

'Charlie's plan is the better of the two,' Ping Wang joined in; 'but he
mustn't attempt to carry it out without help. If he has one or two men
with him the Boxers will be less likely to attack him, and certainly the
job will be done more quickly. I'll be one of the men to accompany him,
and I should like Number One to be the other.'

Ping Wang asked Number One in Chinese if he would care to take part in
fetching the ammunition. His face beamed at the idea.

'Get the ladder, then,' Barton said; and Charlie added, 'Bring a sack.'

Number One fetched both at once. The sack was thrown down into the road,
and the ladder lowered quickly.

Charlie was the first to descend, but his companions followed so quickly
that all three were on the ladder at the same time. Snatching up the
sack the moment that he touched the ground, Charlie ran to the
overturned wheelbarrow. Ping Wang and Number One were only a yard or two
behind him, and soon all three were scooping up handfuls of cartridges
and dropping them in the sack.

'Guns, mistah,' Number One exclaimed when the sack was about half full,
and pointed to three rifles lying near.

'Pick them up,' Charlie said, 'and run back with them at once.'

'Can do,' Number One replied, and, collecting the rifles, ran back to
the ladder, climbed up it, and handed his prize over the wall to Barton.
Then, running to the barrow, he resumed his work of picking up
cartridges.

'We needn't trouble about the others,' Charlie said when they had
collected all but about thirty, which were scattered over a wide space,
and, slinging the sack over his shoulder, he started for the ladder. At
the same moment four shots were fired at him from the houses facing the
mission, but without touching him or his companions. Mr. Wilkins,
Barton, and Fred returned the fire instantly, but their opponents were
hidden from view, and their shots were wasted--at least, they imagined
that they were wasted; but it was a very fortunate thing for them that
they had not touched a Boxer, for the fanatics no sooner found that they
were unhurt by the foreigners' fire than they jumped to the conclusion
again that they could not be wounded. One of them, springing up from his
place of hiding on