the fumes of
tobacco and liquor, but there was no help for it that he could see.

Presently the sailor came back with a package of cigarettes, gin in a
bottle, and a jug of water. He arranged the articles in a half-circle
about him when he sat down on a mat. It seemed pitiful to the boy, the
sailor's dependence on the nerve-destroying things he looked upon as
necessary to his comfort. Only for these, only for their constant use
for years, the man might have been honored and respected and possessed a
home among his kind instead of being an object of contempt in a foreign
port.

"Here's to the Flowery Kingdom!" the sailor said, the bottle at his
lips. "Here's life to you, not existence! What's your name?" he added,
stopping in the midst of a grin which wrinkled his dissipated face
horribly to cast a glance of suspicion on the boy sitting in pity before
him. "My name," he added, without waiting for Ned to reply to his
question, "is Brown--B-R-O-W-N."

"Glad to make your acquaintance, Mr. Brown," Ned said. "One is always
glad to meet Americans in a place like this. Now," he went on, resolved
to have his talk out before the sailor became too befuddled to talk
coherently, "you spoke about wanting to get back to New York. Well, the
_Fultonia_ leaves for New York by way of Manila, to-morrow afternoon,
and I may be able to arrange a passage for you. I'm a friend of the
captain's."

"Not on your life! Not by way of Manila!" the sailor cried. "I wouldn't
go back to Manila for all the gold there is in Standard Oil! I'm going
to lose myself on a wind-jammer! Manila's unhealthy for me!" he added
with a wink.

"I wasn't thinking of remaining there," said Ned. "I'm going back to New
York."

"Wind-jammer for mine!" Brown insisted. "Why," he added, swinging his
bottle of gin in the air, "do you know that I'd like to get inside a
boat with wide white wings and sail about the Orient forever! The more I
mix with Englishmen and Americans the more I think of the Japs. It was
an American that threw me down to-night. I did something for him, and--"

The sailor paused, gave a slight shiver, and looked down at his right
hand. Then he brushed it, as if trying to wipe something away that was
obstinate and hard to get rid of--some stain like the stain of blood!

"And he left you stranded?" Ned continued "I'm glad I happened along,"
he added, not caring to say how glad he was, nor how much the meeting
might mean to him!

"I did his dirty