thoroughness presented itself. Everything had been cleared out,
absolutely.

"Stolen!" exclaimed Withers.

"Clean-sweep!" said the shroff, in his mission-school English.

"Ruined!" added Withers to himself.

Together they hurried back to the office and examined things. It was
evident in a moment how it had been done. Withers had signed an order
for the removal of five boxes. The compradore had deftly added a
cipher and raised it to fifty. And so on. Done repeatedly, with
neatness and precision, over Withers' own signature. No wonder the
streets about the godowns had presented an air of activity at times.

"We must find him," said Withers, "catch him quickly, before he has
time to dispose of the money."

The old compradore had made no effort to hide his whereabouts. There
were a dozen people to whom he had said farewell, telling them that he
had now given up work and was retiring with his family to his home in
the Western Hills. Over Jehol way. Three weeks by cart. Aye, his cart
had come down from Peking to fetch him, a two days' journey. He was
not taking the train. He had started early one morning in his big,
blue-hooded cart, drawn by a gorgeous yellow mule, its harness inlaid
with jade stones. Not number-one jade, of course, but still jade, and
of value. Ten days ago he had gone.

Withers and the shroff caught the first train out for Peking, and
arriving in two hours, made hasty preparations for their journey. They
obtained a cart and a mule, bedding rolls and tinned food, and by
afternoon had set out through the West Gate of the Tartar City, over
the dusty plains towards the Western Hills. Over Jehol way, towards a
village beyond Jehol, up in the hills, where Li Yuan Chang had his
dwelling.

Travelling is slow in a Peking cart, and uncomfortable. The heavy,
springless vehicle lumbered along, bouncing over the deep, dried ruts,
at times sinking hub deep into the dry holes. There were times when
the road was below the level of the adjacent fields, so deep below
that even the hood of the cart was below them, worn as they were by
centuries of travel. At these times, the dust swept through the
narrow channel, blinding. Once or twice they ran into a dust storm
whirling down from the north, from the great Gobi Desert, beyond. Then
they drew down the curtains of the cart, suffocating inside, tossed
from side to side, up and down, by the hard jolting of the vehicle. By
night they rested at wayside inns, sometimes