overwhelming. He had pledged himself.

How he would proceed if the present venture succeeded was another
matter. Fate or opportunity would have to shape his next steps.
Perhaps in Kahn Meng, the mysterious, might rest the solution. Peter
was an adventurer by choice, and an engineer by profession. Under
given conditions he knew what to expect of men and machines. Before he
had taken to the seas as a wireless operator he had had some experience
as a railroad builder. He had laid rails in California, and Mexico. A
successful career in that profession had been foregone when the warm
hand of Romance laid hold of him.

He wondered how he could adjust himself to the routine of his old
profession again, if that was the opportunity awaiting him in Len Yang.
Governmental problems, he knew, would have to be given to more
specialized men, such perhaps as Kahn Meng.

He looked behind him, at the long line of men stretched down the narrow
ravine like the tail of a colossal serpent. Occasionally a stone,
dislodged, clattered down into the crevices. Above them the rock
stretched and lost itself in the cold purple of the night. The moon
carved out vast shadows, black and threatening.

They emerged at length into a broader valley, jagged with spires
flashing with gleams of the moon on frequent mirror-like surfaces. Ten
thousand men could have been concealed in this desolate cavern. Yet it
rang with emptiness as, far arear, a steel prod struck powdery fire
from the flinty path.

Hours seemed to pass as they advanced, descending constantly. At times
the granite walls nearly met above them, and then a shaft of moonlight
would cast freakish shapes across their vision.

Once they paused for rest near a torrential stream. Some lingered to
drink. The blackness in the sky was yielding itself to the spectral
glow of the new day when Kahn Meng gave the order to halt.

He took Peter aside and explained his procedure. His plan was to send
fifty men through the tunnel to the main shaft to subdue the guards;
the remainder of the armed coolies, numbering about one hundred and
fifty, would follow, forming a protective chain to the black door, an
underground entrance.

"There should be no trouble, no confusion--a bloodless revolution," he
added with a nervous, elated laugh. "I will occupy the place--you will
follow. Wait ten minutes."

Peter nodded.

"A tunnel, fairly straight, leads from here directly to the black door.