One morning, as he took his stand on the Hong-Kong packet dock to ambush the possible tourist, he witnessed the arrival of a tubby schooner, dirty gray and blotched as though she had run through fire. For some time he could not stir, but felt sick and exhausted. But I've not promised to stand by him yet; nor will I, unless he turns out an honest lad,—mind that. They were headed by an athleticlooking, swarthy-featured man, who was armed with a cutlass, which he waved over his head to cheer on his companions. She seemed to have no idea whatever of the emotional states that were becoming to her age and position. “So you’d best open your coffers.
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