turn the Empress Dowager
was in flight and, presumably, the Japanese, working in concert with
agents of the captive Emperor and Prince Ching, were looking toward the
future.--It would seem that they divined once more the opportunity to
Occidentalize army and government. If so, it was the rising of a world
tide which might well run to flood, and it offered him a man's work. At
all events, this letter which caused his fingers to itch and tremble as
they held it, came from high Japanese sources and it was addressed only
"Excellency," without a name. The envelope itself was directed to "The
Honourable Victor McCalloway."

For a long time he stood there immovable, looking at the paper, as great
dreams marched before him. Organization, upbuilding--that was his
_metier_!

Seeing the rapt concentration of his brow and the hunger of his eyes,
the former British sergeant spoke again with persuasive fervour:

"Go under any name ye like, sor'r; ye'll be prompt to give it glory! For
many years I served under ye, General. For God's sake, let me take my
commands from ye once again! Come out to China, sor'r, where they need a
great soldier--and can keep silent!"

The hermit strode over and laid a hand on the shoulder of his visitor.
Their eyes met and held. "Old comrade," said McCalloway, as the rust of
huskiness creaked in his voice, "I know you for the truest steel that
ever God put into the blade of a man's soul--but I must have time to
think."

He crossed the room slowly and took up Dinwiddie's sword. Tenderly he
drew the blade from the scabbard, and as he looked at it his eyes first
glowed with fires of longing, then grew misty with the sadness of
remembrance.

After that he laid the scabbard down and handled once more the sheets
that had been in the envelope. He did not re-read the written sentences,
but let his fingers move slowly along the smooth surface of the paper,
while his pupils held as far-away a look as though they were seeing the
land from which the communication had come.

But, after a little, McCalloway came out of that half-hypnotized
absorption, and his eyes wandered about the room until finally they
fell on the rifle that the mountain boy had forgotten to take away with
him.

He knew Boone well enough to feel sure that he had not gone far without
remembering. He was certain, too, that his young protege would have
returned for it before now had he not been inhibited by his deference
for the elder's priv