ngth he came to the City of the Dead, and sped on past the
ivy-covered wall, circling, doubling back, and giving what pursuit
there might have been a most tortuous trail to follow.

He was hooted at and jeered at by coolies and shrieking children, but
he ran on, putting the miles behind him, and finally dropped into a
slow trot, breathing like a spent race-horse.

At the pottery field he found a rickshaw, estimated that he still had
time to spare to make the Hong Kong train, and was driven to the
station. Dead or alive, he had promised to deliver himself to Romola
Borria at the Hong Kong Hotel at seven.

Visions of the malignant face of his red-featured enemy were constantly
in his mind.

But he breathed more easily as the train chugged out of the grim, gray
station. He sank back in the seat, letting his thoughts wander where
they would, and beginning to feel, as the miles were unspun, that he
was at least one jump ahead of the red death which had threatened him
since his departure from the friendly shelter of the _Persian Gulf_.

CHAPTER XII

The shadows were lengthening, the sky was of a deeper and vaster blue,
when the train came to a creaking stop in the Kowloon Station.

Peter emerged, scanning the passengers warily, but catching not a
glimpse of his red-faced enemy. What did that one have in store for
him now? This chase was becoming a game of hide-and-seek. But in Hong
Kong he would feel safer. Hong Kong was a haunt of civilized men and
of able Sikh policemen, who detested the yellow men of China.

He took the ferry-boat across the bay to the city, which rose tier upon
tier of white from the purple water; and he made his way afoot to the
American consulate.

With auspicious celerity the sad-eyed clerk bowed him into the presence
of an elderly gentleman with white side whiskers and an inveterate
habit of stroking a long and angular nose.

This personage permitted his shrewd, grave eyes to take in Peter from
his blond hair to his tan walking shoes, and with a respectful mien
Peter prepared his wits for a sharp and digging cross-examination.

"I have been advised," began the American consul, giving to Peter's
blue eyes a look of curiosity in which was mingled not a little
unconcealed admiration, as he might have looked upon the person of
Pancho Villa, had that other miscreant stepped into his gloomy
office--"I have been advised," he repeated importantly, "by the
commander of the auxiliary cr