b and by the richness of
the large sampan's upholsterings Peter guessed this to be the craft
sent to him by the small Chinese girl.

Peter leaped aboard, awakening the _fokie_ with a cry.

Dark knobs arose from the low cabin hatchway, and by the yellow lamps
of the jetty Peter made these out to be the heads of the maid from
Macassar and her old grandmother.

A _dong_ was burning in the cabin, and Peter followed the girl into the
small cabin of scrubbed and polished teak, while the old woman gibbered
in sharp command to the _fokie_.

Crouching like a beast at last cornered, Peter, by the shooting rays of
the _dong_, glared dazedly into an angry red face, a face that was
limned and pounded by the elements, from which stared two blue,
bloodshot eyes.

The girl said nothing as she nestled at his side, and Peter permitted
his head to sink between his hands.

Yet, strange to say, the red-faced man did not fire, made no motion of
stabbing him.

Peter looked up, snarling defiance.

"You've got me cornered," he whispered harshly. "It's after one
o'clock. The parole is up. Why prolong the agony? Damn you, I'm
unarmed!" He shut his eyes again.

Again there was no premonitory click, no seep of steel upon scabbard.

The red-faced man seized his shoulder, shook him.

"Say, you young prize-fighter," he sputtered, "you drunk? Crazy? Or
just temporarily off your nut? Who in thunder said anything about
prolonging the agony? What agony are you talking about? Why the devil
've you been dodging me all over South China to-day? You dog-gone
young wildcat, you! I've got an assignment for you. The _King of
Asia's_ wireless man is laid up in the Peak Hospital with typhoid. I
want you to take her back to Frisco! Blast your young hide, anyhow!"

The wizen face of the girl's grandmother appeared in the hatchway. She
seemed annoyed, angry. She said something in the Cantonese dialect,
which Peter did not understand.

"A sampan is following," translated the girl in her tiny voice, "but we
are nearly there. In a moment you will be safe."

"Where?" demanded Peter, staring over the red-faced man's shoulder for
a glimpse of the other sampan.

"The _King of Asia_," she told him. "In a moment, _birahi_, in a
moment."

Her tones were those of a little mother.

But Peter was staring anxiously into the red face, trying to decipher
an explanation.

"I told the red-faced one to be here, too, at midnight," the girl was