beside him in
the mellow Winter sunshine. An odor of fruit blossoms came to them
almost unreally sweet, and farther down the street they saw many little
street-stands where flowering branches of prune and almond were
displayed.

"It's their New Year festival," Adrian explained. "Come, we'll visit
some of the shops; they'll give us tea and cakes, for that's
their custom."

"How interesting!" remarked Inez. She shook hands cordially with a
grave, handsomely gowned Chinese merchant, whose emporium they now
entered. To her astonishment he greeted her in perfect English. "A
graduate of Harvard College," Broderick whispered in her ear.

Wong Lee brought forward a tray on which was an assortment of strange
sweetmeats in little porcelain dishes; he poured from a large tea-pot a
tiny bowl of tea for each of his visitors. While they drank and nibbled
at the candy he pressed his hands together, moved them up and down and
bowed low as a visitor entered; the latter soon departed, apparently
abashed by the Americans.

"He would not mingle with the 'foreign devils,'" Broderick smiled. "That
was Chang Foo, who runs the Hall of Everlasting Fortune, wasn't it?"

"Yes, the gambling house," Wong Lee answered. "A bad man," his voice
sank to a whisper. "Chief of the Hip Lee tong, for the protection of the
trade in slave women. He came, no doubt, to threaten me because I am
harboring a Christian convert. See," he opened a drawer and took
therefrom a rectangle of red paper. "Last night this was found on my
door. It reads something like this:

"Withdraw your shelter from the renegade Po Lun, who renounces the gods
of his fathers. Send him forth to meet his fate--lest the blade of an
avenger cleave your meddling skull."

"Po was a member of the Hip Yees when he was converted; they stole a
Chinese maiden--his beloved and Po Sun hoped to rescue her. That is why
he joined that band of rascals."

"And did he succeed?" asked Alice.

"No," Wong Lee sighed. "They spirited her away--out of the city. She is
doubtless in some slave house at Vancouver or Seattle. Poor Po! He is
heartbroken."

"And what of yourself; are you not in danger?" Broderick questioned.

Wong smiled wanly. "Until the New Year season ends I am safe at any
rate."

CHAPTER LIII

ENTER PO LUN

Broderick returned to Washington; he wrote seldom, but the newspapers
printed, now and then, extracts from his speeches. The Democrats were
once more a dominating power an