ters like you, who speak my language, are too rare to let go
by. Mandarin?"

He stepped back and eyed his guest with stupid humor.

"I say, men who speak my language are rare. Nights I listen to fools
on this machine, and tell them what I please. What is the news from
outside? What is the news from home?"

"From where?"

"From America!" He stumbled over the words, and took in his breath
with a long, trembling hiss between his yellow teeth.

"It is many years since I visited that strange land, O great one! It
is many, many years, indeed, since I studied for the craft which you
now perform so honorably."

"You--what was that?"

"I, too, studied to your honorable craft, my son. But it was denied
me. Buddha decreed that I should preach his doctrines. It is my life
to bring a little hope, a little gladness into the hearts----"

"You stand there and tell me that you know the code?" cried the
white-faced man shrilly.

"Such was my good fortune," Peter replied gravely.

"Well, I believe you're a dam' liar, you Chink!" scoffed the other, who
was swinging in nervousness or irritation from side to side.

Peter shrugged his shoulders, and permitted his gaze to fondle the
monstrous transmission coil.

"I'll show you!" railed the man. "I'll give you a free chance, I will!
Now, listen to me. Tell me what I say." He pursed his lips and
whistled a series of staccato dots and dashes.

"What you have said," replied Peter in a deep voice, "is true, O high
one!"

"What did I say?"

"You said: 'China, it is the hell-hole of the world!' Do I speak the
truth?"

Peter thought that this crazy man--whose name had formerly been
Harrison--was preparing to leap at him. But Harrison only sprang to
his side and seized his hands in a clammy, excited grip. Tears of an
exultant origin glittered in the man's eyes, now luminous.

"You stay with me, do you hear?" he babbled. "You stay here. I'll
make it worth your while! I'll see you have money. I'll see----"

"But I have no need of money, O high one!" interrupted Peter in a
somewhat resentful tone, striving to mask his eagerness.

"You stay!" cried Harrison.

"Lotus eater!" Peter said, knowing his ground perfectly.

"What if I am?" demanded Harrison defiantly. "So are you! So are we
all! So is everybody who lives in this rotten country!"

"To the sick, all are sick," Peter quoted sorrowfully.

"Rot! As long as I must have opium, there's nothing more to b