ity."

Jack looked upon the crowd with wonder, the first Eastern crowd of
which he had ever made a part. The thronging pavements were a
kaleidoscope of the East--long-coated Persians; small, brown,
slant-eyed Japanese; big, yellow, slant-eyed Chinamen; a naked
Coringhi, his dark body shining in the lamp-light, and the rings in
his nose jingling together; Hindus of all ranks, from the stately
Brahmin to the coolie bearing loads or pulling a rickshaw; Burmese;
and, to Jack's pleasant surprise, three straight-stepping English
soldiers, swinging along with their little canes, their lively talk
sounding pleasantly familiar amid the babel of Eastern tongues.

At a narrow opening Buck turned and left the main street. Fifty yards
along the side street he stopped the rickshaw and paid off the coolie,
each taking his own kit-bag. Next Buck plunged into a dusky,
ill-lighted alley, and Jack followed, wondering.

"I'm making for a friend's house," murmured Buck, "an' I'm takin' a
shy road. We've got to keep our eyes skinned from now on."

"Do you think the gang will be on the look-out for us in Rangoon,
Buck?" asked Jack.

"Likely enough," replied Risley. "No harm in takin' care, anyway."

The two gained a narrow lane beyond the alley, followed it some
distance, then turned into a wider street. Here Buck paused before a
shop whose windows were closed, but rays of light were streaming
through chinks in the shutters. He tried the door and found that it
was not fastened.

"Nip right in," said Risley, and the two entered briskly, and closed
the door behind them. Behind the counter stood a tall, elderly man
taking a rifle to pieces by the light of a brightly-burning lamp. He
was surrounded by weapons of all kinds, and a single glance told Jack
that he stood in a gunsmith's shop.

"Hello, Buck," said the tall man calmly. "Slidin' in like a thief in
the night, eh? What's wrong, and who's your friend?"

"This is the Professor's son, Mr. Jack Haydon," replied Buck,
answering the last question first, as he put down his bag and shook
hands with his acquaintance.

"Pleased to know you, sir," said the gunsmith, offering his hand to
Jack in turn. "Me and your father have known each other a long time
and done a lot of business together. Perhaps you've heard him mention
me, Jim Dent?"

"Yes, Mr. Dent," said Jack, "I've heard your name many a time."

"I'm very sorry for you, sir," said Dent. "This is a queer business
about the Profes