rascal, or did you see him so that you can give
a comprehensive description of him to the police?"

"A little red-headed man," I said, watching him closely. "Did you see him
before you started up the stairs?"

He burst out in a dry, mirthless cackle of laughter, and slapped his
knees, much as if he had heard a good joke.

"If you will come in to tiffin with me, Mr. Trenholm, I will tell you
about him."

Assuming affability, I accepted his invitation, and we went into the
dining-room together and found a table to ourselves in the corner. I was
rather pleased at having an opportunity to study him, especially at his
own suggestion, and I made up my mind that before the lunch was over I
would have solved the mystery of who or what the missionary was, and why
he had the little red-headed man at my heels since I had arrived in
Manila that morning, and why he had attempted to keep me out of the
_Kut Sang_.

"And who is this little red-headed man?" I asked as we took our chairs.

He bowed his head and mumbled a grace before replying, and I had a sense
of mental conflict between us, and knew that I would have to guard
against chicane, or the suave old fellow would talk me out of my
suspicions.

"It must have been Dago Red you saw," he began, grinning, and wagging his
head. "I hope he did not actually steal anything, my dear Mr. Trenholm. I
am quite sure you must be mistaken about his being a thief; but it is
quite possible, he has deceived me."

"I found him sneaking near my door in the hall," I said. "Who is this
Dago Red?"

"A worthy man," he replied getting serious. "I am afraid you have done
him an injustice, for I sent him up to see if you were in your room, and
after I had given him the errand the clerk informed me that you were in,
and I started up myself."

"He didn't appear anxious to talk with me when he saw me open the door."

"You probably startled him by--"

"But who is he?"

"Petrak, I think his name is, although I am not sure, and my poor old
memory cannot hold names long. He is a sailor who has been shipwrecked,
and he became a vagrant here and was sent to Bilibid Prison. Much of my
work is in prisons, and I took charge of him when he got out and sent him
to the Sailors' Home, sure that he would be able to get a ship again.
That was a couple of months ago, and when I arrived to-day he met me and
told me that he had left the Home because the keeper was prejudiced
against him, owing to his term in