to their eyes.

"Wah Lee," they cried in chorus, jumping to their feet.

"That same old yellow sinner," confirmed Melton complacently.

The Chinaman himself was shocked for a moment out of his Oriental
stolidity. A delighted smile spread over his face and he broke into an
excited jargon of "pidgin English," of which the refrain was:

"Velly glad slee. Wah Lee velly glad slee."

Then in a burst of grateful memory he threw himself to the floor and
tried to put their feet upon his head, as a token that he was their slave
for life. But they jerked him upright in a torrent of eager questioning.

"You old rascal."

"How did you ever get here?"

"I thought you were back in China by this time."

But Wah Lee's smile was more expansive than his vocabulary was extensive.

"Him tell," he said, pointing to Mr. Melton.

"I thought it would be a surprise party," that worthy chuckled as he
refilled his pipe. "So I didn't tell you anything about it nor did I tell
the Chink that you were coming. It was a surprise, all right," and he
chuckled again.

"It won't take very long to explain," he went on when his pipe was
drawing well. "You remember that after you got back from your trip
to the Canal you gave him money enough to go West and start a little
laundry business wherever he might choose to settle down. It seems he
drifted out to Helena, where there's quite a colony of Chinks, and
started in to wash and iron. As nearly as I can understand his gibberish,
he was doing pretty well, too, until he got mixed up in one of those
secret society feuds that play hob among those fellows. It seems that he
belonged to the On Leong clan and the Hip Son Tong got after him. They
sent on to 'Frisco for some highbinders--those professional killers, you
know--and Wah Lee got wind of the fact that he was one of the victims
marked for slaughter. Naturally, he was in a fearful stew about it, and
just when things were at their worst I happened to be in Helena on
business and ran across him. Of course, I'd never have known him, for all
Chinks look alike to me, but he recognized me in a minute and begged me
by all his gods to help him out. He knew it wouldn't do any good to go
from one city to another, because they'd get him sure, and his only
chance was to be smuggled off into some country place where they might
lose track of him. It seemed rather hard lines for the old fellow, and
though I didn't care much to mix up in the rescue stunt, I didn't