oad with a
boom that shook the solid walls. Bobbie's mule nosed toward them, and
Peter all but shot the friendly little animal!

Between Peter and Miss Vost, who was chattering and weeping as if her
heart was breaking, their wounded companion was lifted into the saddle.
They crossed the bridge, and the bridge was whipped up behind them.

Not until they attained the brow of the hill did they look back upon
the gloomy walls, now black and peaceful under the high clear moon.
And it was not until then that Peter marveled upon their easy escape,
upon the snatching up of the bridge as they left. Why had no shots
been fired at them as they climbed the silver road?

They trusted to no providence other than flight. All night long they
hastened toward the highway which led to Ching-Fu--and India. And they
had no breath to spare for mere words. At any moment the long arm of
the Gray Dragon might reach out and pluck them back.

Only once they paused, while Peter ripped out the satin lining of his
robe and bound up the wound in Bobbie's dazed head.

Miss Vost sat down upon a moss-covered rock and wept. She made no
effort to help him, but stared and wiped her eyes with her hands.

A misty, rosy dawn found them above the valley in which ran the
connecting road between Ching-Fu and the Irriwaddi.

Miss Vost was the first to see the camp-fires of a caravan. She
laughed, then cried, and she tottered toward Peter, who stood there, a
lean weird figure in his tattered blue robe and his tangled beard.

She extended her arms slightly as she approached, and her gray eyes
were luminous with a soft and gentle fire.

Bobbie staggered away from the mule's heaving sides, with one hand
fumbling weakly at the satin bandage, and in his eyes, too, was the
look that rarely comes into the eyes of men.

In a single glance Peter could see to the very depths of that man's
unselfish soul. It was like glancing into the light of a golden autumn
morning.

Miss Vost lifted both of Peter's hands, and one was still blue from the
back-fire of the automatic. She lifted them to her lips and kissed
them solemnly. With a little fluttering sigh she looked up at Bobbie,
standing beside her and towering above her like a strong hill.

They looked long at one another, and Peter felt for a moment curiously
negligible. He had cause to feel that his presence was absolutely
unessential when, with a happy, soft little laugh, Miss Vost sprang up
and was c