tage
at the International Concession.

Anthony was for going directly to the Hotel Astor for dinner, but at
Peter's suggestion he and the twins boarded a street-car for the ride
to Bubbling Wells.

Peter stood for a number of moments in indecision as the Bubbling Wells
tram went up the bund with the slow flood of victorias, rickshaws, and
wheelbarrows. It was now about seven o'clock, with the sun hidden
under a horizon of dull bronze. Street lights were coming on,
twinkling in a long silver serpent along the broad thoroughfare, rising
in a grotesque hump over the Soochow bridge, and becoming lost in the
American quarter.

He would meet Anthony and the twins in the dining-room. Whoever got
there first would wait. He expected to be there long before his three
friends came back from Bubbling Wells.

A rickshaw coolie was wheedling him at his elbow but he paid no
attention. His eyes were searching the street. It took him several
seconds to reconcile himself to the fleeting apparition. What was this
girl doing in Shanghai?

The rickshaw had passed, proceeding at unabated speed in the direction
of Native City.

The rickshaw boy was still making guttural sounds, softly plucking at
his sleeve. The shafts of the rickshaw were close to his feet. But
Peter was still undecided.

"Allee right," said Peter, briskly. "French concession."

That was the direction in which the other rickshaw was headed.

He climbed aboard, and they veered out into the north-bound traffic.
The girl in the rickshaw was about one block in the lead, and had no
intention evidently of accelerating her coolie's pace or of turning
back. She had left all decision to him, and his decision was to ask
her a few questions.

His coolie trotted heavily, looking neither to the right nor left, with
his pigtail snapping from side to side, as his head bent low.

"Follow _lan-si_ veil--savvy?"

"My savvy," returned the coolie, heading toward the narrow alley of
filth and sputtering oil _dongs_, breathing the odor of refuse, of
cooking food.

Peter's heart was beginning to respond to the excitement. Did she have
some message to convey to him that she could not trust to the openness
of the bund at the jetty?

Suddenly the rickshaw ahead swerved sharply to the right into an alley
that was perfectly dark. Its single illumination was a pale-blue light
which burned before a low building set apart from the others at the far
end.

Here the first r