Sheriff Hardy, of Hat County, was a fearlessly resolute man, possessed of great bodily strength and of a coolness in times of excitement that admirably fitted him for his difficult position, and he had constant need to exercise all these qualities, for his was a manufacturing county, having a large population of recently Americanized foreigners, who held in scant respect laws not enforced by a military power always in evidence.
On the evening of the trouble in Hatton, Constable Jones's message found the sheriff quietly smoking a cigar on the porch of his house at the county seat, some miles from the place where his presence was so urgently required. Two minutes later he was on horseback and galloping towards the scene of disturbance. Reaching the Hatton parsonage within half an hour, he entered it by a back door, and at once swore in as special deputies the gentlemen whom he found there assembled, and undecided, not having authority, as to how they should act in the present emergency. Then Sheriff Hardy stepped to the front porch, took a survey of the situation, and for a minute listened to the significant interchange of remarks between the owner of the shops and the leaders of the mob.
He was there when the crowd tore down the fence and made their rush towards the house. Until this moment they had not suspected his presence, but now, at the sound of his sharp "Halt!" their advance was checked as effectually as though it had encountered a twenty-foot stone wall.
"Stand where you are!" he commanded. "Any man who advances so much as a single step farther will be arrested. I am not going to ask what you are doing here, nor the meaning of this cowardly demonstration against the peace. I already have heard enough to fully understand the situation. You are proposing to injure and otherwise abuse a person who is legally an inmate of this house."
"He's a heathen Chinee," muttered some one in the crowd.
"I don't care if he's a blue monkey," replied the sheriff, sharply, "so long as he is here with the sanction of the law, he is entitled to legal protection, and he is going to have it, too, just so long as I am sheriff of Hat County. Some of you Dagoes seem to think there isn't any law in this country, but I'll teach you that there is plenty of law, with ample provision for enforcing it. Now I've wasted all the time I mean to on you, and school is dismissed; so, 'bout face, and clear out of here. You want to be spry, too, for in just one minute I am going to march down that street with a posse of armed deputies, sworn to obey orders, and ordered to arrest any anarchist who attempts to obstruct their passage. I may add that they can shoot, too; and, if necessary, will shoot. That's all."
As the mob, breaking into angry murmurs, still hesitated to move, Sheriff Hardy called out, so that all might hear:
"Posse, attention! Fall in! Come on!"
Then, as the tramp of many feet sounded on the porch, he leaped from it, and his impatient followers sprang after him. The next minute they were charging down the main street behind a panic-stricken mob in full flight, and Hatton's short-lived reign of terror was ended.
After this, Mr. Hinckley, acting upon the sheriff's advice, which coincided with his own inclination, did not seek to secure Jo's safety by sending him away from Hatton, but kept him there in attendance at the academy, where the other fellows, under Rob's leadership, acted as a body-guard for his protection.
"It is too bad that I make so much bobble," said the Chinese lad to his friend one day. "Mebbe better if I go my own country."
"Oh, rot!" replied Rob, who at times found difficulty in expressing his feelings other than by the use of slang. "It would just be pie for the muckers to have you cut away, and they would claim game on the strength of it. As for you making trouble, I call it fun, and so do the other fellows. Why, I've never known so much life in the academy as has been put into it by your coming. Same time, you can't say you aren't getting good by being here, for I never heard of anybody learning as fast as you do. I'm not the only one that's on to it, either; for I heard old Puff—excuse me, I mean Professor Puffer—say the same thing only yesterday. Besides, you couldn't go away till after our trial, anyhow, for we are under bonds to appear, and it would simply mean ruin to Uncle Will if you didn't show up."
"That tlial," answered Jo, who had not yet fully conquered the difficulty encountered by all Chinese who come into contact with the letterr, "makes for me much bitterness and plenty 'fraid. In my country we say, 'Better it is to die than go in law-suit.'"
"Oh, pshaw!" answered Rob. "It isn't that way in America. Everybody here seems to get mixed up in some sort of a law-suit sooner or later, and not worry much about it, either. As for ours, it'll come out all right; you see if it don't. I'm not fretting."
When, in the early winter, the eventful day set for the trial of the now famous case of Statevs.Joseph Leeet al.arrived, it seemed as though half Hatton was determined to be on hand. Court was held in the city of S——, distant only an hour's ride by train, so that the Hatton spectators were able to go and return the same day.
Owing to the dragging length of the preceding case on the calendar, that of our lads was not called on the first day of their appearance, and they were forced to spend the night in a hotel, guarded by a deputy. In this same hotel stayed the father of the young tough who had incidentally been thrown to the ground with Jo during the long-ago fracas that began all this trouble. When our lads, accompanied by their guard, went down to supper, this man, together with another, sat where he could see them, and, pointing to Jo, he said, viciously, but in a low tone:
"That's him, and we'll make it worth your while to fix him."
"That well-dressed young fellow?" questioned the other, in a tone of surprise. "He don't look any more like a Chinee than he does like a Dago, and if you hadn't told me, I wouldn't have suspected it."
"No, they've trimmed him up to look almost civilized; but I wisht you'd seen him when the fuss took place. He sure was a savage-appearing heathen then."
"Um," said the other, meditatively; "changed his description, have they? Well, if you can make it worth while, I'll see what can be done."
To the dismay of our lads and their friends, the trial, which occupied the whole of the following day, was, in spite of the efforts of their lawyer, but a repetition of the first one. Much additional testimony was presented by the State, but nothing new had been forth-coming in their behalf. So late in the day was the case closed that the judge withheld his decision until the next morning; but no one had a doubt as to its nature, and the muckers of Hatton held another jubilation that night with bonfires and much noise.
Full accounts of the trial appeared in the morning papers, and our friends read these with heavy hearts.
"Looks as though we stood a good chance of going to prison," remarked Rob, gloomily. "It'll either be that or a whopping big fine that, I'm afraid, Uncle Will can't raise. Maybe it'll be both."
"If my father were only here," said Jo, "he would make things all right quick enough, by giving that mandarin judge much money."
"Oh, would he?" replied Rob. "That's all you know about American judges. Such a scheme might work in China, but if your father should try it on here he would be pretty apt to land himself in prison, alongside of his son, and that son's 'accomplice,' as the papers now call me. We Americans are a pretty tough lot, I'll admit, and our laws don't seem to have much to do with justice, but I don't believe we've yet come to the point of bribing our judges—that is, not to any great extent."
"But, Rob, my friend, it is for you that my heart is aching. For me it makes no difference. When I am again free I will go back to my own country as a hero, whose bad treatment here will only make my people hate foreigners more than ever. But for you it will mean shame and much sorrow, all caused by me."
"Now, don't you fret a little bit about that, old man," replied Rob, stoutly. "There is no danger of me being disgraced by going to prison in a good cause, in the eyes of any one whose opinion is worth anything. I tell you, honestly, that, so long as you are in this scrape, I'm glad to be in it with you; for it will show that if Americans are sometimes unjust, it is not only to foreigners, but to their own people as well."
So greatly was interest in the case stimulated by the published reports that, on the second day of the trial, the court-room was crowded with spectators. Most of these were hostile in sentiment to our lads and were anxious to hear sentence pronounced, not only upon the Chinese, who had dared assault an American, but upon the white lad who had proved a traitor to his own people by assisting in the outrage. Another attraction in the court-room that morning was a Chinese gentleman, richly clad in his national costume, who entered with the judge, and was accorded the honor of a seat on the bench. He was secretary to the Chinese legation at Washington, hurriedly sent on by his chief to inquire into this case and do everything possible for the relief of his young countryman. Even after entering the court-room he continued to speak to the judge; but the face of the latter remained sternly impassive, as though, having made up his mind, nothing could change it.
When our lads were led to their seats they could nowhere see the lawyer who was defending them, and they wondered at his absence; but he appeared and took his place with other members of the bar just as court was opening. He had no opportunity for communicating with them at that moment, but he beamed upon them with a smiling countenance, for which they could not account.
"Looks like a man grinning at his own funeral," whispered Rob to his friend, who wondered how such a thing might be possible.
In another moment, however, his attention was drawn from this puzzle by the opening of court, and by seeing their counsel rise to his feet.
"Your honor," said this gentleman, addressing the judge, "I beg leave to petition that the case of Statevs.Joseph Leeet al., concluded in this court yesterday, be reopened for the admission of new and important testimony in behalf of the defence. Only this morning has a witness been discovered whose story will, I believe, completely reverse all previous impressions gained during this momentous trial. In view of that fact we earnestly pray that you will permit us to place this person on the stand."
After listening to a demur from the district attorney, the court granted this petition and reopened the case, whereupon the counsel for the defence summoned to the witness-stand Miss Annabel Lorimer.
As the court-crier, amid a breathless hush of expectation, loudly called the name "Annabel Lorimer," a young girl, flushed with embarrassment, but with brave, gray eyes, rose from a seat in the front row of spectators and was escorted to the witness-stand by a gentleman, who evidently was her father, and who remained near her during the examination that followed. After she had sworn to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, had given her name, her place of residence as that very city, and had blushingly admitted that, although fifteen years of age, she was unmarried, she was asked to tell what she knew of the case now on trial.
"We were going to Canada for the summer," she began, "so as to learn how to travel and get ready for the great journey around the world that papa and I are going to take this winter. So I went to Hatton to say good-bye to my aunt Marjorie, who lives in a big, white house, just across from the common. I could only stay one night, and had to leave on the very earliest morning train. So I was up pretty early, and was dressing to go down-stairs, when such shouting and laughing came from the street that I looked out of the window. There were a lot of boys, all running, and one of them was a Chinese. I never saw one before, but I knew he was Chinese by his pig-tail and by his funny shoes, that were just like the pictures."
"Can you tell how he was dressed?" asked Jo's lawyer.
"Yes, he had on a long, blue frock, without any waist-band."
"Like this?" suggested the lawyer, at the same time holding up the very gown Jo had worn on that eventful morning.
"Yes, just the same; only at first it wasn't torn."
"Thank you. Now you may proceed with your story."
"Well, while I was looking I saw that the other boys were teasing the Chinese boy, which seemed to me dreadfully mean, when he was all alone in a strange place, especially when he stood still and began to look frightened. Then some more big boys, who had been playing on the common, came running over, and they all crowded around the Chinese boy and began to abuse him."
"What do you mean by abusing him? What did they do?"
"Why, they hit him, and pushed him from one side to the other, and pulled at his pig-tail, and ran round and round with it so as to make him turn and get dizzy, and knocked off his cap, and did everything horrid they could think of."
"What kind of boys were they?"
"Just the very kind that tie fire-crackers to poor dogs' tails, and kill pussy-cats with stones, and—swear."
This last word the witness uttered with some hesitation and in a low tone.
"Would you know any of those boys again if you should see them?"
"Yes, I'd know the two I see sitting over there," replied Annabel, at the same time pointing to a group of the Hatton muckers who had been retained in court as witnesses.
"How can you identify them?"
"Because the little one has such very red hair, and so many freckles, and the other is so big and ugly looking; besides, he is the one who knocked the Chinese boy down."
"How did he do that?"
"He butted him in the back with his head, while the little, speckled one was pulling at his pig-tail in front, and they all went down together."
"Now tell me, Miss Lorimer, what the Chinese boy did all this time? Was he very fierce, and did he strike at his assailants as if he were trying to kill them?"
"Oh no, indeed! I'm sure he didn't, because I hoped all the time he would. He only seemed horribly frightened, and kept trying to get away; only they wouldn't let him."
"Did you see any of the other boys throw anything at him?"
"Yes, mud—lots of it—and stones; and they tore his clothes until he was a sight."
"Please tell the court what happened after the Chinese boy had been knocked down."
"I object to that expression," interposed the district attorney, who was conducting the case for the State; "the witness has expressly stated that the fall in question was caused by a push and not by a blow. She also has testified that three individuals went to the ground at the same time, and we already know from recorded testimony in this case, that the greatest sufferer from the effects of this fall was not the Chinaman, but the very smallest and weakest of those whom my learned friend is pleased to stigmatize as 'assailants,' although it has been repeatedly and conclusively proved during this trial that they were the assailed. Therefore I object to the expression 'knocked down.'"
"Objection admitted," growled the judge.
"Very well," said Jo's lawyer, "since the expression 'knocked down' is objectionable, it is withdrawn; and you may tell us, Miss Lorimer, what happened after my young client was hurled to the ground."
"Your honor, I object," broke in the district attorney.
"Objection overruled," said the judge, sharply, "and I insist that the testimony of this young lady must not be interrupted by squabbles over technicalities."
"After my young client washurled to the ground," continued Jo's lawyer, triumphantly, "with the biggest and ugliest-looking of his assailants on top of him, tell us, Miss Lorimer, what happened next?"
"The big boy scrambled to his feet, and just then Rob Hinckley came along with a milk-can and drove them all away, and the milk flew all over everybody. Then Mr. Hinckley and Constable Jones came; but after that I didn't see any more, because the breakfast-bell rang, and I was so late that I had to get dressed as quick as I could."
"That is all, your honor, and the other side is welcome to our witness," said Jo's lawyer.
"Why did you not come forward sooner to testify in this case, Miss Lorimer, since you seem so greatly interested in it?" queried the district attorney.
"Because I didn't know anything about it until this morning. Then papa read about it in the paper, and said he had no doubt that if the truth were known it would turn out that the Chinese boy had been wantonly abused by a lot of cowardly young ruffians, just because he was weak and helpless, which was getting more and more to be the American way of doing things. I didn't like to hear him say that, and told him I believed I had seen that very trouble the morning I was in Hatton; only I had forgotten all about it, because so many other things began to happen that same day, and have been happening ever since. I said, if those were the same boys, they were not real, true Americans at all, but just a lot of mean imitations, and if the law people only knew what I did, they would punish them instead of Rob Hinckley, and the Chinese boy who had been abused. He asked what I meant, and I told him all I could remember. Then he telephoned to that gentleman (pointing to Jo's lawyer), who came to the house and asked me questions. Then we drove here in a carriage, because it was late. So if you punish anybody, I hope it will be those wicked imitation American boys; because one time that big, ugly looking one set his dog on my tortoise-shell kitty when we were visiting Aunt Marjorie, and threw stones at her when she ran up a tree, and would have killed her if Rob Hinckley hadn't made him stop."
"So you already were prejudiced against the boy, whom you describe as 'ugly looking,' before you saw him in collision with this Chinaman."
"I don't know what you mean," replied Annabel; "but, of course, I hated him, and knew just what he would do when he found a China-boy, or any one else he could abuse without a chance of getting hurt himself. He did it, too, and now I hope he'll be shut up in prison forever and ever."
"Your honor," said the district attorney, with a well-satisfied smile; "I think the animus of this witness is sufficiently shown by that statement, which I shall allow to go on record without comment. I shall also pass, without attempt at refutation, her silly naming of those naturalized citizens, who, with their brawn and muscle, their unremitting industry and their sturdy independence, constitute the strongest bulwark of our glorious republic, for she is but a child, speaking from the ignorance of childhood. Thus we are well content to rest our case upon the evidence, with a certain confidence that the court, in its wisdom, will give us a verdict in accordance with the facts."
With this the attorney sat down. The girl witness, wondering whether she had most helped or harmed the cause she had espoused, was allowed to take her seat, and Jo's lawyer rose to address the court.
"Your honor," he said, "I need not suggest to one so well versed in proverbial philosophy, that truth, sometimes unpalatable, but always bluntly outspoken, is a universally admitted characteristic of childhood. Into the dark mazes of numberless famous law cases, as in the one we now are concluding, has the revealing light of truth been thrown by the untutored testimony of children. I could not wish a stronger witness to the justice of our cause than the fearless little lady who has just now given her evidence in our behalf. Upon it, therefore, we confidently rest our cause, with a well-grounded conviction that it is sufficient to assure a verdict in our favor."
As the lawyer sat down, our lads realized that the critical moment in which their fate was to be decided had arrived; and they awaited the words of the judge with mingled hope and anxiety. For a moment an impressive silence reigned in the court-room, and all eyes were turned upon the judge as he glanced over his pencilled notes. Finally he looked up, removed his spectacles, and, fixing a kindly gaze upon the two young men, said:
"It is hardly necessary to state that the unimpeachable testimony of the last witness in the case of Statevs.Joseph Leeet al.has completely altered the point of view from which it must be regarded, and causes the decision of the court to be quite different from what it would have been yesterday. I now find the defendant, Joseph Lee, to have been a victim instead of an aggressor, and to have suffered shameful persecution at the hands of a mob of young ruffians, who have been happily termed 'imitation Americans.' This term is most soothing to the pride of all real Americans, who are unwilling to believe that any of the true stock would dishonor the name by assaulting the helpless and innocent. This being the situation, the decision of the court in the case of Joseph Lee is that he be honorably acquitted of the charges brought against him."
This decision was received with looks of scowling consternation by the muckers present, and with murmurs of applause from the better class of spectators. This quickly was silenced by the court officers, and the judge continued:
"The case of Robert Hinckley, however, proves more serious, since it is evident that he did make an assault with a weapon, and without the excuse of self-defence, upon the bodies of certain persons named in the indictment, who are entitled to legal redress for the same. Of this offence the court, therefore, finds Robert Hinckley guilty and sentences him"—at this point poor Rob turned very pale, while his heart sank like lead—"to pay a fine," continued the judge, "of one cent to each and every one of the aggrieved parties whose names appear in the indictment. At the same time the court wishes to express its thanks to Mr. Robert Hinckley for the fine manner in which, forgetful of his own danger, he hastened to defend a helpless foreigner from persecution by a set of unmitigated young scoundrels. Officer, call the next case on the calendar."
"Oh!" gasped Rob, as the friends of our lads gathered about them with congratulations at this happy ending of their troubles; "does he really mean it?"
"Yes," replied the lawyer who had defended them, "he really means it, and if you haven't two cents in your pocket, I'll pay the fine myself."
After the happy conclusion of the law-suit that had for so long disturbed their peace of mind, our lads left the court-room in company with a group of congratulatory friends. As they went out, Rob exclaimed, triumphantly, "I told you not to fret, Jo, and that everything would turn out all right."
"Yes, but it is through the goodness of Miss Lolimer."
"Who?" inquired Rob, with a puzzled expression. "Oh, you mean Annabel! Yes, isn't she fine? I say, Annabel, I don't know how we ever can thank you enough for getting us out of that scrape. It was one of the most plucky things I ever knew a girl to do."
"It wasn't half so plucky as the way you saved my 'turtle kitty' that time; besides, I was so sorry for your friend, though I didn't know he was your friend then."
"That's so. I forgot. Let me introduce him. Annabel—I mean Miss Lorimer—this is my friend, Joseph Lee, from China, only all the fellows call him Chinese Jo."
"I'm ever so glad to know you, Mr. Lee," said the girl, at the same time making a prim little bow that was half curtsey. "I never met a Chinese boy before, and I think they are awfully interesting. I mean," she added, quickly, and with a deep blush, "that we are going to China sometime, papa and I, and we want so much to know about the queer people out there. Not, of course, that you seem queer, because you are dressed in civilized—Oh, dear, what a stupid I am! But won't both of you come to our house for luncheon? Papa said I might ask you, and he is going to invite Mr. Hinckley and that Chinese gentleman who sat with the judge. Wasn't he perfectly splendid? Of course, I mean the judge, though the other is lovely, too, in his beautiful clothes."
"My dear," interrupted Mr. Lorimer, "this is Mr. Secretary of Legation Wang, who, together with Mr. Hinckley and, I trust, these young gentlemen, will lunch with us."
Mr. Wang, who, being a graduate of Yale, was quite accustomed to American ways, gravely shook hands with Annabel, as he also did with Rob; but his exchange of greetings with his own young countryman was quite different. Instead of shaking each other's hand and saying "How do you do, Mr. Wang? Happy to meet you, Mr. Lee," as is the American custom, they bowed profoundly to each other several times, all the while clasping and shaking their own hands and uttering flowery compliments in Chinese.
"How funny to shake one's own hand!" laughed Annabel, as she watched with delight this novel interchange of courtesies.
"It does not seem funny in our country, Miss Lorimer," said Mr. Wang, who had overheard the remark. "There all gentlemen, and ladies as well, wear their finger-nails so long that there would be danger of cutting, or at least scratching, each other's hands if they should exchange the courteous salute in the American way. So we shake our own hands, to avoid injuring those of our friends."
"But why do you wear your finger-nails so long?" asked Annabel. "I should think it would be very uncomfortable, and that they would get broken."
"It is an uncomfortable fashion, and a very silly one," replied Mr. Wang. "The long nails are so apt to get broken, as you suggest, that they often are protected by silver sheaths. The reason they are allowed to grow long is to show that their wearers are not obliged to labor with their hands. Chinese ladies for the same reason, or rather to show that they are not obliged to walk, but can afford to be carried about by servants, compress their feet until they are hopelessly and very nearly helplessly crippled for life."
"How dreadful!" exclaimed Annabel.
"Yes. Is it not? But is it any more dreadful than certain things done at fashion's decree in your own country? For instance, in Washington I often see ladies dancing, or shivering through long dinners, in low-necked and sleeveless gowns, which at the same time are so tightly compressed at the waist as to cause present torture and future misery. I see fashionable men dressed in exact imitation of their own servants, and only to be distinguished from them by a round bit of glass worn with much effort, and with absurd distortions of the face, in front of the right eye—not at all to aid the sight, mind you, but simply because it is fashionable. Yes, both our nations are guilty of following many absurd fashions, and each laughs at the other on account of them; but to my mind the most foolish habit of all is for us to call each other 'barbarians' because our fashions in silliness happen to differ."
In all this Annabel was so interested that the lunch-time conversation was wholly turned upon Chinese topics, with the result that Mr. Wang proved himself not only to be highly educated, widely travelled, and liberal-minded, but one of the most entertaining conversationalists any of them ever had met. So impressed were his hearers by what this versatile Chinese gentleman told them, that when the luncheon was ended Annabel regarded herself as one of the most fortunate girls in the world because of her prospect of going to China; Mr. Lorimer was thinking of the same country as probably the most interesting place they should visit during their travels; Mr. Hinckley found his views on the Chinese question greatly changed; Rob longed to get back to the land of his birth, and Jo was decidedly homesick.
For these reasons the Lorimers were pleased to learn that Mr. Wang proposed to remain in their city a day or two longer, while Mr. Hinckley was anxious to reach home and his own library, where he might quietly review his newly received impressions. Rob was equally desirous of returning to Hatton and the lessons that must be learned before he could hope to revisit China, while Jo was made happy by an invitation from Mr. Wang to remain with him during his stay in S—— and greet the other young Chinese then being educated in that vicinity, whom the secretary had invited to dine with him that very night.
Mr. Hinckley was more than willing that Jo should accept the invitation, and remain away from Hatton for a few days on account of the bitterness of feeling against him that the decision of the court was certain to have strengthened. So Jo remained behind when the Hinckleys took their departure, and that evening, passed in company with Mr. Wang and a dozen companions of his own nationality, was the very happiest he ever had known. They dined in a room by themselves, were served by Chinese waiters procured from a near-by laundry, ate their rice with chop-sticks, drank amber-colored tea without sugar or cream, and did not speak one word of anything but Chinese during the entire evening. The one drawback to their complete happiness was that during the dinner Mr. Wang received a telegram concerning some business that demanded his presence in Boston the following morning. He therefore was obliged to leave S—— on a late train that same night, much to his own regret as well as that of his guests. His final instructions to Jo were to entertain his young friends at breakfast the following morning before seeing them off on the train for their respective places of study, and then to remain in S—— until his return, which probably would be within two days.
This programme was faithfully carried out by our lad to the point of escorting his friends to the railway-station and seeing them off. One reason for his peculiar enjoyment of their company was that owing to Rob's constant companionship his own advance in learning English, as well as in acquiring general knowledge, had been so much more rapid than theirs that his young companions acknowledged his superiority in these respects with openly expressed wonder and admiration. Then, too, his experience in American law courts, that had resulted so triumphantly, caused him to rank among them as a sort of a hero, to be regarded with great respect.
All this was so flattering and so pleasant to Jo that after their departure, when for the first time he found himself without companions in a city of strangers, his extreme loneliness caused him to seek out the Chinese laundry near the hotel. There he would find other fellow-countrymen, who, if not of his own rank, at least could talk to him in his native tongue; also he fancied that by them the recent flattery which so had pleased him would be continued. Nor was he mistaken, for when he reached the laundry its inmates received him with profound kotows, indicating deep respect, and quickly provided him with tea and sweetmeats.
As Jo had been curious concerning the lives and occupations in America of these people, who, though belonging to the coolie or lowest class of Chinese, still were his countrymen, he spent more than an hour in the laundry, asking questions and acquiring much information, such as no foreigner could have gained in a lifetime. So interested did he become, that, in order to realize more fully the nature of the work they were doing, he took from one of them the flat-iron he was using and for a few minutes operated it himself.
The young student was so intent upon this novel form of investigation as not to realize that he was performing actual laundry-work directly before an open window, through which he was plainly visible to outsiders. Nor did he notice that a man, lounging on the opposite side of the street, was keeping keen watch of his performance. Even if Jo had noticed this man he would have paid no attention to him; nor would he have known that all his movements of that day had been closely followed by that same individual. But this was the case, and when Jo appeared at the open window of the Chinese laundry, evidently engaged in ironing a garment, the man smiled grimly. At the same time he produced a pocket-camera having a telescopic lens, which for a moment was levelled directly at the unsuspecting lad.
"I reckon that'll settle his business," muttered the man to himself. "Who would have thought of his playing into our hands by doing such a fool thing?"
A little later Jo, while sitting in the reading-room of his hotel, was handed a telegram, the very first he ever had received. After carefully reading the superscription, to make sure that it really was addressed to him, he tore open the brown envelope, nervously unfolded the yellow enclosure, and read as follows:
"Brevoort House, New York City."Have important need of you here. Take first train. Wire time of your arrival. I will meet you at station."(Signed)Wang Chih Tung, Secretary, etc."
"Brevoort House, New York City.
"Have important need of you here. Take first train. Wire time of your arrival. I will meet you at station.
"(Signed)Wang Chih Tung, Secretary, etc."
"Is there any answer, sir?" asked the boy who had delivered this despatch and who stood waiting while Jo read it. "Here are blanks if you want them."
"Yes," replied our lad, speaking slowly, but thinking at top speed. "I want to send two of these same things. Can you take them and see that they go light away quick?"
"Yes, sir," replied the boy. "That is my business."
"Can you tell me how soon I can get a train for New York?"
"In ten minutes, if you hurry," answered the boy promptly.
"When will it get me to New York?"
"Ten thirty to-night."
"You are sure?"
"Sure, sir, as if I was a railroad time-table."
Relieved at so easily having obtained the information he wanted, and excited at thus being summoned by so high a dignitary as Mr. Wang, Jo wrote two despatches on blanks provided by the waiting boy, and gave them to him for delivery at the nearest telegraph-office. One was to Mr. Wang, announcing the proposed hour of his reaching New York, and the other, telling of his intended trip to that city, was addressed to Mr. Hinckley. For each of these he paid the boy twenty-five cents, and then, having no time to lose, he hurried to the railway-station. There he had barely secured a ticket for New York when an express-train thundered up to the platform. Two minutes later it was rolling swiftly away, carrying as passengers Chinese Jo and the man who had followed his movements so closely all that day.
When, late at night, Chinese Jo reached New York and alighted from his train in the Grand Central Station he was bewildered and almost frightened by his surroundings. He found himself in a vast edifice occupied by many long trains of cars, some standing still, either receiving or discharging passengers, and others in motion, drawn or pushed by hoarsely puffing locomotives. Between every two trains was a narrow platform extending the whole length of the great station, and most of these were crowded with outgoing or incoming passengers, all in a hurry, and each too intent upon his own affairs to pay attention to those of his neighbors. Among them moved red-capped porters and blue-clad railway officials, too mindful of their own importance to condescend to answer the low-voiced questions of an insignificant "Chinaman."
As Jo drifted with the tide of one of these human streams, his eyes searched anxiously every face within his range of vision with the hope of discovering Mr. Wang. But no such good-fortune was in store for him, and finally he reached the street without having found his friend. He had asked several of the uniformed officials if they had seen a Chinese gentleman anywhere about the station, but some of them had only laughed without answering, while others had paid no attention to him. Outside the station, however, and standing irresolute on the sidewalk, Jo was beset by plenty of persons anxious to serve him. Drivers of carriages, cabs, and baggage wagons shouted at him and solicited his patronage. Agents of express companies wanted to take charge of his luggage, ragged street urchins struggled for possession of his hand-bag, while hotel-runners besieged him with cards of their respective houses.
"But I only want to go to the Blevoort Hotel," he finally managed to explain, "and not anywhere else."
"Take you to the Brevoort for five dollars," shouted a hack-driver, waving a whip in the lad's face and at the same time reaching for his hand-bag.
"I am going to the Brevoort House, and will show you the way if you like," said some one close behind Jo, as he was attempting to explain that he had not five dollars to expend on carriage-hire.
Turning, our lad saw a man, evidently, from the bag that he carried, a traveller like himself, and, greatly relieved to find some one willing to aid him in this time of trouble, he gratefully accepted the stranger's offer of guidance.
"All right, then, come along," said the man. "No, we don't want no hack. Street-cars are good enough for us."
With this he waved aside the clamorous throng of drivers, and led the way to a car bound down-town. As they rode, the stranger, while admitting that he was not a resident of New York, so impressed our lad with his knowledge of the great city, and of the manifold pitfalls that it held for the unwary, that he inwardly congratulated himself upon having met so willing a guide, who at the same time was so competent to direct his steps.
The car took them within one block of their destination, and when Jo read the name "Brevoort" over the doorway of the hotel he believed his troubles to be ended, for surely here he would find his friend, or at least learn of his whereabouts.
"Is there a gentleman by the name of Wang stopping here?" he inquired of a sprucely attired clerk at the desk.
"Not if we know it," was the reply, accompanied by a supercilious stare.
"But I received a telegram only a few hours ago telling me to meet him here."
"Can't help that. If he is here it's without my knowledge, and you'll have to find him as best you can."
"Then I will take a room for the night and wait till he comes," said poor Jo, desperately. "This is the only address he gave, and so he is sure to look here for me sooner or later."
"Haven't a vacant room in the house," answered the clerk, shortly; "and if you think this hotel is a Chinese joint you're mightily mistaken."
"Let's get out of here," said Jo's friendly guide. "That's outrageous; and if this place isn't good enough for you it isn't good enough for me either."
Here, unobserved by our lad, the speaker winked at the clerk, who winked back understandingly. "Come with me," added the man. "I'll show you a decent place, where we can spend the night, and to-morrow I'll help you hunt your friend."
As Jo knew not what else to do, he for a second time gratefully accepted the offer of this stranger, and followed him out through the inhospitable doorway he had so hopefully entered a few minutes before. Again boarding a street-car, they were carried far down-town, and finally reached a small hotel, in which they secured a room containing two beds.
There they spent the remainder of the night and had breakfast the next morning. By this time Jo had determined to make one more effort to find Mr. Wang at the Brevoort House, and, if it failed, to return at once to Hatton. He still had money with him to pay his fare, but not enough to keep him much longer at a New York hotel. During breakfast, which he and his newly formed acquaintance ate together, he confided this plan to the latter, who gave it his hearty approval.
"Best thing you can do," he said. "New York is no place for a stranger, more especial a foreigner who is not used to American ways. There's only one thing, though. While we're down-town we might as well visit the office of the police commissioners, and find out what they know about your friend. They keep track of all foreigners arriving in the city, and are sure to have full information concerning any one so distinguished as your Mr. Wang. It's only about a couple of blocks away, and you can leave your bag here to pick up as you come back."
Jo agreed to this proposal; and, filled with a new hope, willingly accompanied his friendly guide. They walked much farther than two blocks, but our lad was so fascinated by the novel sights about him that he took no note of the distance traversed. Finally they entered a massive stone building, in which an elevator speedily lifted them several stories above the street level. Jo caught a glimpse of the word "Commissioner," printed in letters of gold over a doorway, as he was ushered into an anteroom, the entrance to which was guarded by an officer. His acquaintance seemed to know this man, for he nodded to him as they passed in. Then he said to Jo:
"You sit here and wait a few minutes, while I go and see if the commissioner can give us a hearing."
With this he turned away and disappeared through a second doorway at the other end of the room.
So Jo waited and waited with the unquestioning patience of his race until more than an hour had passed, while many persons went in and out without paying him the slightest attention. At length he began to grow uneasy; and, walking over to the officer who guarded the door, he asked:
"Is the commissioner very busy this morning?"
"Rather," was the laconic answer.
"Then, perhaps, I had better not wait any longer."
"Oh, I guess you had," was the reply, accompanied by a curious scrutiny of the young Chinese.
"But it may be that he won't have time to attend to my affair."
"He'll attend to you fast enough when the time comes. Never you fear."
Reassured, but at the same time somewhat perplexed by these answers, Jo returned to his seat and waited another hour. Then, determined to remain no longer, he walked to the door with the intention of going back to the hotel and carrying out his original plan.
"What do you want now?" inquired the officer on guard.
"I am not going to wait any longer," replied Jo.
"Oh, you're not going to wait any longer, aren't you? Reckon we'll see about that, too. Just you stroll back to where the deputy marshal left you, and stay there till you're ordered to move, or I'll make things lively for you. Do you hear me, Chink? Well, then, get a move on."
Bewildered and frightened by the officer's fierce aspect, Jo did as he was bidden, and again resumed his seat. He had hardly taken it, when the door through which his acquaintance had disappeared was flung open and another officer called out, "Joseph Lee!" a summons that our lad obeyed with alacrity.
He was ushered into a comfortably furnished room, containing a number of men, and was conducted to the presence of one who sat behind a desk. Near at hand stood his acquaintance of the night before.
"Is this your man, deputy?" asked the person behind the desk.
"Yes, sir; he is," replied Jo's acquaintance, who was a deputy United States marshal, engaged in searching out illegal Chinese residents of the Eastern District.
"What is your name?" asked the man behind the desk, now turning to Jo.
"Joseph Lee," was the reply.
"Native of China?"
"Yes, sir."
"How long have you been in this country?"
"About eight months."
"Where?"
"Hatton."
"What have you been doing there?"
"Studying."
"Never lived in S——?"
"No, sir; but—"
"Never mind your buts. Haven't you been employed in Charley Wing's laundry in S——?"
"Certainly not. I am a student, and—"
"This isn't your picture, then?" said the United States commissioner, at the same time holding out an enlarged photograph of a scene in a Chinese laundry.
Jo took it, and to his amazement recognized himself, prominently in the foreground, and engaged in ironing as though that were his trade.
"Yes, sir," he answered. "This seems to be a picture of me; but—"
"That will do," interrupted the commissioner sharply. "Now let me see your certificate."
Jo had a certificate of identity, to which was attached a photograph of himself as he had looked when about to leave Hong-Kong. This certificate had been furnished by an American consul-general in China; and, as he had been warned always to keep it about his person, he now was able promptly to produce it.
"Um, um," muttered the commissioner, as he glanced over the paper. Then aloud he added: "This appears to be a certificate of identity issued to one Li Tsin Su, student, unable to speak English, and so forth. You speak English fluently, declare your name to be Joseph Lee, and admit the correctness of this picture of yourself at work in a Chinese laundry, a photograph, by-the-way, that does not in the least resemble the one attached to this certificate. Thus, your case seems to prove itself beyond need of further investigation, for you don't appear to be anywhere near as sharp in matters of deception as most of your tricky countrymen. I rather think you won't find America a congenial sphere for your future studies. Marshal, remove the prisoner, and retain him in custody until such time as the next personally conducted excursion is ready to start."
"This is an outrage!" protested poor Jo, struggling furiously in the viselike grip of the man who had taken him in charge, "and I shall appeal—"
"Shut up!" growled the officer, "and come along quiet, or you'll only make a bad matter worse."
With this he hustled his indignant but helpless prisoner from the room at so breathless a pace that he could utter no further word of protest.
A half-hour later saw our unfortunate lad stripped of everything found in his pockets and lodged in one of the city prisons, in company with several of his countrymen, all of the coolie class, who were awaiting orders from Washington for their deportation to China in accordance with the provisions of the Chinese Exclusion Act of the United States.
Of course, the telegram purporting to come from the Chinese secretary of legation, by which Jo had been lured to New York, was a forgery; nor had either of those intrusted by him to the bogus messenger-boy, who delivered it, ever been forwarded to its address. Thus, Jo's Hatton friends had no idea that he had left S——, but supposed him to be there in company with Mr. Wang. They were well satisfied that this should be so for a time, and Rob was especially glad; for whenever he met any of the muckers they were sure to call out:
"Say, saphead, where's yer Chinee? Don't yer dare let him out, for fear he'll get hurted? Yer scared to be seen on the street with him, that's what's the matter! Yer needn't be, though, fer we wouldn't tech him with a ten-foot pole, specially if yer'd muzzle him and lead him by a chain, same as they do all the other big monkeys. Bet yer don't know where he is! Bet he's got woozy and runned away! He'd better stay away, too, or we'll fix him good!"
So, for about a week, Rob was not sorry to have his friend in a place that promised a greater safety than Hatton. At the end of that time, however, the Hinckley family began to wonder why they did not hear from their young guest, and Rob wrote him a letter, that he sent to the hotel in S——. It was promptly returned, with a note from the proprietor stating that the Chinese lad only had stayed in his house one day, and then had disappeared, but that a telegram for him lay unclaimed in the office.
Mr. Hinckley at once sent for this telegram, which proved to be from Mr. Wang, dated at Boston, stating that he should be unable to revisit S——, and advising Jo's immediate return to Hatton. It was a week old. Upon this Mr. Hinckley telegraphed to Washington, only to receive word that Mr. Wang was travelling in the South and would not be back for a month. Inquiries for the missing lad were now set on foot in every direction, but no clew to his whereabouts could be found; nor was it for long months after his disappearance that its mystery was cleared away.
In the mean time, much as our Hatton friends were troubled by their young guest's unexplained vanishing, their attention was largely diverted from it by news from China that Dr. Hinckley was seriously ill. The first intimation of this came in a letter that told of his failing health and of his plan to seek its restoration through a visit to America.
"Won't it be fine!" exclaimed Rob, "to have them here? Father'll be sure to get well as soon as he sights the Connecticut Valley. Its air always has made a new man of him."
For a whole day he revelled in these happy anticipations. Then came the fateful cablegram that in a moment swept away his light-heartedness and changed the whole current of his life. It was from his mother, and was in the private code that his parents had prepared when they left him in Hatton. In all the years since then he had been obliged to refer to this code but twice; for people living on small salaries cannot often afford to send messages costing several dollars per word, with both address and signature to be paid for at full rates. The present message that had been flashed from far-away China, across Asia, under the Indian Ocean, the Red Sea, and the Mediterranean, across Europe and under the Atlantic, read as follows:
"Syntax, Boston.—Fable, garnet, hazel."
"Syntax, Boston.—Fable, garnet, hazel."
The word "Syntax" had, from the first, been registered in the Western Union office at Boston, to save the expense of cabling the name of the State in which Hatton was located, and it meant, "Rev. William Hinckley, Hatton," to which address the despatch had been forwarded at an extra charge of twenty-five cents.
"Bring the code-book, quick, Rob!" exclaimed Mr. Hinckley, as this message dropped like a bombshell into the quiet circle gathered in the pleasant parsonage parlor that evening. Rob had been studying his lessons for the next day, his uncle was reading, and Mrs. Hinckley happened to be writing a letter to China.
In a few seconds the boy had dashed up-stairs and was back with the alphabetically arranged code-book.
"Fable?" said his uncle, and Rob, turning to the F's, ran his finger hastily down the long column.
"Oh!" he gasped, "Fable means, 'Mason too ill to travel.'"
"Garnet?" continued Mr. Hinckley, huskily.
"Garnet means, 'Wants to see Rob before he dies.' Do you believe it can be as bad as that, Uncle Will?" and a choking sob rose in the boy's throat.
"First find the meaning of 'Hazel,' and then we will talk about it," replied Mr. Hinckley.
"Hazel," replied Rob, in another moment, "means, 'Send Rob to us at once.'"
"Oh, Rob! my dear, dear boy!" cried Mrs. Hinckley. "It is terrible for you, and it is going to be dreadfully hard to give you up, for you have become as our own son."
"But we must give him up, and that at once," said her husband, sorrowfully, "since the meaning of this despatch cannot for a moment be misunderstood. Mason's illness must have taken such a sudden turn for the worse that his life is endangered. They evidently hope, though, to prolong it for some weeks, at least, or Fanny would not send for Rob. She knows that he cannot, under the most favorable conditions, reach her in less than a month."
"But in case of the worst, she would want Rob with her," suggested Mrs. Hinckley.
"In that case she would come to him, for, with Mason dead, there would be nothing to keep her in China."
"That's so," said Rob, hopefully. "I hadn't thought of that. When do you think I can start, Uncle Will? I suppose we'll have to telegraph all the different companies to find out which of them sends out the first steamer."
"That would be expensive and take time," replied Mr. Hinckley. "I believe we can do better. The Post-Office Department keeps track of the sailing dates of all steamers that carry mails, in order that letters may be despatched as often and as quickly as possible. So, though our post-office must be closed by this hour, I will go over to Postmaster Garrett's house, and see if he hasn't a printed slip giving the sailing dates of Pacific steamers for the next few weeks. While I am gone, you and your aunt can be getting your things together ready for packing."
With this Mr. Hinckley was about to leave the house, when his wife said:
"Why, William, those post-office notices are always published in the Boston papers, and there is yesterday's lying on the table."
"So it is!" exclaimed Mr. Hinckley, picking up the paper as he spoke. "How stupid I am! Yes, here is the very thing we want: 'China and Japan,viaTacoma, mails close 5 P.M. on the 6th, steamshipOriental..' That is to-morrow, and it means that mails will be taken on the evening express which reaches Albany about midnight. There it meets and makes part of the New York night express for Chicago. From Chicago they will go to St. Paul, and then, by way of the Northern Pacific Coast, Limited, to Tacoma, reaching there on the 10th, which undoubtedly is theOriental'ssailing date. At any rate, Rob, so long as you go with the mail you are bound to be travelling the quickest possible way. To catch the Boston express, you must go to Albany by the noon train to-morrow. I shall go with you that far, and we will make all your ticket arrangements there."
Thus, within fifteen minutes from the time that fateful cablegram found Rob Hinckley quietly studying lessons for the morrow, and expecting to do little else for many months more, school had become a thing of the seemingly remote past, and he was a traveller bound on a journey that would take him half-way around the world. Moreover, the earlier details of this journey were already planned, and he was to set forth within a few hours. It is no wonder that he got but little sleep that night, nor that he was up at daylight packing his trunk and sorting out certain cherished possessions that he meant to distribute as keepsakes among his boy friends.
He went to school at the usual hour, but only to announce his departure to the masters, say good-bye, and collect his books. The head-master requested him to wait a few minutes and accompany him to the great hall where the entire school assembled for morning prayer. There, to Rob's embarrassment, he was conducted to a seat of honor on the platform, from which the master gave notice of his coming departure, stated its sad cause, said some very flattering things about Rob himself, and then asked the school to join him in an earnest prayer for their young friend's safety during the tremendous journey he was about to undertake, and that at its end he not only might find his dear father alive, but restored to health.
At the conclusion of this prayer tears stood in Rob's eyes and in those of many of his young friends as well. He wanted, before leaving, to say good-bye to the whole body of his school-mates, as he did not expect to see any of them again; but he did not exactly know how to do so, and was immensely relieved when the head-master further said:
"Robert is to leave Hatton by the noon train to-day, and in order that his friends here gathered may have the opportunity, which I am sure they desire, of bidding him farewell and seeing him off, all classes will be dismissed at eleven clock."
As a result of this thoughtful provision, for nearly an hour preceding the departure of the Albany train the little Hatton railway-station presented one of the liveliest scenes in its history, and Rob was greatly affected by the innumerable evidences of esteem showered upon him by his school-mates. When the train finally pulled out, with our lad waving his hat from the rear platform of its last car, it was to an accompaniment of a hurricane of cheers and farewell shouts.
"Who is the most popular fellow in Hatton?" cried the leader of the academy rooters.
"R-o-b, Rob!H-i-n-c-k-l-e-y,Hinckley!Rob Hinckley!Hi-ho! Hi-ho!Good-bye!" was the answer shouted forth in tremendous chorus by every boy and girl present; and this was our young traveller's final farewell from the place that seemed his home more than any other in all the world.
For three days after leaving Albany, Rob journeyed swiftly and without untoward incident past Buffalo and Chicago, up into the great Northwest, through St. Paul, amid the vast wheat-fields of Minnesota and the Red River valley, over the limitless prairies of North Dakota, through the "Bad Lands" bordering the Little Missouri, and into the incredibly rich copper regions of Montana. Then came the dreadful day on which he lost his train, and with it all hope of catching the only advertised steamer to leave the "coast" for a week. It happened at Helena, where the train was to remain for fifteen minutes; and Rob, tired with being so long shut up in a car, decided to take a brisk walk into the town. He wanted to see something of the place, and needed the exercise.
So he set forth, walked as far as he dared, allowed too narrow a margin of time for his return, missed his way, and finally regained the station only to see his train pulling out from its farther end. For a second he could not believe his eyes. Then he ran madly after the disappearing cars, screaming for them to stop. Even in the blindness of his excitement a moment of this effort convinced him of its folly, and he halted on the edge of the platform, while two great, scalding tears, that he had no heart to repress, coursed slowly down his cheeks.
"Is it as bad as all that, my boy?" asked a kindly voice at Rob's elbow; and the lad, turning quickly, looked into the sympathetic face of a United States army officer, whose khaki uniform was faced with red.
Captain John Astley, commanding Battery Z of Field Artillery, returning from leave in the East, had been placed in temporary charge of a body of recruits ordered to Vancouver Barracks, near Portland, Oregon, which was his station. He had stopped at Helenaen route, to pick up a few more newly enlisted men, and, being at the railway-station that morning, was attracted by Rob's running and shouting after his rapidly vanishing train. Captain Astley was tender-hearted, as are all brave men; and, noting our young traveller's genuine distress, he impulsively stepped forward to inquire into its cause. As he saw tears on the lad's cheeks, he knew it must be serious, for Rob did not look like a fellow from whose eyes tears could easily be extracted.
"Yes, sir," replied poor Rob, who, longing for sympathy in this moment of distress, was moved by the kindly face of the stranger to unburden his heart of its load of trouble. "It is about as bad as it can be, for my father is dying in China, and my only chance of seeing him alive lay in catching theOriental, which sails from Tacoma to-morrow evening. Now I have lost her, and there won't be another steamer of that line for nearly a month. Besides, my baggage is on the train just gone; and my pocket-book, with my tickets and all my money, has gone with it, locked up in my suit-case."
"That does seem a rather serious situation," said Captain Astley, gravely, "but perhaps it won't prove irremediable, after all. I've noticed that things looking the darkest at first view often brighten upon closer inspection. Suppose we sit down for a minute and see what light can be thrown into this darkness."
When Rob had accepted this friendly invitation, and the two had seated themselves on a near-by baggage-truck, the elder man continued: "To begin with, let us know each other. I am John Astley, Captain of Artillery, U.S.A., and stationed at Vancouver Barracks, to which place I must proceed by to-morrow morning's train. I wanted to go on to-day, but, unexpectedly, was detained at the last moment, and came to the station to hold over my luggage. I must confess that I was much annoyed at this detention, but if it affords me an opportunity of helping you out of your trouble I shall not regret it."
"Thank you, sir," replied the lad. "My name is Rob Hinckley. I am the son of a medical missionary, stationed at Wu Hsing, on the Si Kiang, in China, where I was born; but I have lived for the past fourteen years, and gone to school, in New England. I have passed my preliminaries for Yale, and should have entered next fall if the news of my father's serious illness, and his great desire to see me before he died, had not altered all my plans. Now, by my own carelessness in walking too far, while the train waited here, I not only have lost it, but probably have lost my only chance of ever seeing him again."
"Isn't there a steamer of some other line—theEmpressfrom Vancouver, theYusen Kaishafrom Seattle, or the Pacific Mail from San Francisco—that you can take within a few days?" suggested Captain Astley.
"There is one from San Francisco in about a week, but, you see, my fare is paid through to Nagasaki by the Tacoma line, and I'm afraid I haven't money enough to buy another ticket. Besides, I should have fare from Tacoma to San Francisco to pay, and hotel bills. Then, too, my pocket-book, with money, tickets, and everything, has gone off on that train. I thought I'd be extra careful, and so locked it up in my suit-case before starting out to walk."
"I hope you still have the key," said Captain Astley, seriously, but with a twinkle in his gray eyes.
"Yes, sir; I've got that. I don't see, though, how it is going to do me much good, seeing that I haven't money enough to take me even to Tacoma. There's another thing I've just thought of. My trunk is checked through to Nagasaki by theOriental; and as my suit-case has the same name on it, probably some one will be kind enough to put it on board the steamer. So there isn't much chance that I shall ever see it again."
"Oh, I guess there is, provided the telegraph still is in order, and I know it was working a few minutes ago."
"I haven't even money enough to pay for a telegram," objected Rob.
"So it is doubly fortunate that I happen to have a few pennies left over from my last month's pay," laughed the captain.
"But I am a stranger to you, sir, and you don't know that I am honest enough to repay you, even if I ever get my money back," objected Rob, flushing with the embarrassment that money troubles always cause those not used to them.
"Haven't you just told me all about yourself?" suggested the captain, gravely; "and can't I read 'honesty' written on every feature of your face? Besides, one must always be willing to risk somethink in an investment from which he hopes to gain rich returns in the form of self-satisfaction. So it's all right, every way you look at it, and I think we'll buy the use of a west-bound wire for the next half-hour or so."
Thus saying, Captain Astley led the way to the telegraph-office, into which Rob doubtfully followed him. There the former first persuaded the station-agent to wire the conductor of the train that had brought our young traveller thus far, an inquiry concerning him and his ticket. Then he wired the Pullman conductor to look after Rob's suit-case and deliver it to the station-agent at Tacoma, to be kept by him until called for by Captain Astley.
"I put it that way," explained the latter, "because the Tacoma agent knows me, while he doesn't know Robert Hinckley; and, as we are going on together to-morrow, it won't make any difference which of us receives the bag."
A third despatch was sent to the Tacoma agent of the steamship company, notifying him that unforeseen circumstances prevented Mr. Robert Hinckley from sailing on theOriental, requesting him to hold over a trunk marked Hinckley and bearing Nagasaki check 907, and asking him to meet the following day's Coast Limited at the Tacoma station, with money to refund the price of the forfeited ticket.
"I don't know whether or not he will do that," said Captain Astley; "but perhaps he will, seeing that he is pretty well acquainted with me. At any rate, it is worth trying for. You may send the replies to these messages up to the X Hotel," he added, turning to the operator.
"But I am not staying at the X Hotel," objected Rob, remembering how very elegant and expensive that establishment had looked when he passed it a half-hour before. "I can't afford it."
"Not as my guest?" asked the army man.
"I don't see how you can think of doing so much for me," blurted out Rob. "I never heard of any one being so kind to a perfect stranger."
"My dear lad, I once was a boy myself, and continually getting into scrapes, from which kind people, as often as not entire strangers, helped me out. So you see I now am only repaying a small portion of the debt I owe to those who were good to me. Besides, I am fond of boys, especially of boys who behave themselves as gentlemen, and am delighted at the prospect of having one as a travelling companion, even for a short time. So don't you fret any more over the incurring of obligations; also, never hesitate to accept whatever good thing is offered you in this life, for the bad you'll have to accept, whether or no."
"All right, sir," replied Rob, smiling happily, as he now could well afford to do. "I will gratefully accept all the kindness you offer, and pass it along to some other fellow, whenever I find one in a trouble out of which I can help him."
"Good!" laughed the captain. "And now that we understand each other, let's go up to the hotel for breakfast."
Owing to the efforts of this Heaven-sent friend, Rob's troubles, that had seemed so overwhelming, melted away like frost before the warm breath of a cloudless sun. While they were at breakfast, a message was received from the train conductor that Robert Hinckley, accidentally left behind at Helena, had paid full first-class fare through to Tacoma, and on the strength of this the Helena agent provided our lad with a ticket to that point. The Pullman man wired from Spokane that Rob's baggage was in his keeping, and would be handed over at Tacoma according to instructions. They did not hear from the steamship agent; but on the following day, when our travellers reached Tacoma, after crossing the coast range by aid of the superb Stampede Tunnel, and having been whirled down the western slope, through the magnificent fir forests of Washington, they found that gentleman awaiting them at the station. Here, also, they found Rob's trunk and his suit-case.
The steamship agent explained that, while he could exchange an unused ticket for one good by the next ship of the same line, he was not allowed to refund money already paid for passage. "However," he added, turning to Rob with a smile at the latter's clouding face, "owing to the fact that I was notified in time, I was able to sell your room to a gentleman who, finding all first-class accommodation engaged, had taken second-class passage rather than wait for another steamer. He, of course, was glad to pay the difference in price, and so I am able to refund half the cost of your ticket, if you feel that you cannot wait for our next ship."
Rob hesitated, while he made a rapid mental calculation.
"Take it," advised Captain Astley, "and come with me to Vancouver Barracks. There, at least, we can save you a hotel bill while you are waiting for another steamer."
So our lad accepted the money, surrendered his steamship-ticket, purchased another to Portland, Oregon, rechecked his trunk to the same point, and a few minutes later found himself, still in company with his army friend, speeding to the southward on the same train that had brought them to the coast.
His first act, after they were again under way, was to refund the money expended in his behalf for telegrams and hotel expenses in Helena. Much to his relief, Captain Astley accepted this without demur, it being one of that officer's pet theories that no gentleman will place another under a pecuniary obligation against his wish, even to the extent of a five-cent car-fare.
In the mean time the latter had learned all that was worth knowing of Rob's history, of course including his recent experiences in connection with Chinese Jo. When he discovered that his young companion could talk Chinese, he said:
"I wish we were to be together long enough for you to teach me, as I believe the time is not far distant when a knowledge of that language will prove a most valuable addition to an army officer's mental equipment."
Finally they reached Portland, where, before the train had stopped, an orderly was in the car saluting and handing his captain an official envelope.
"By Jove!" exclaimed the latter, as he tore it open and glanced rapidly over its contents; "here's a hot shot from a masked battery, and perhaps it may mean that you and I can—But never mind now. We'll talk it over in quarters this evening. Orderly, get these traps out; look after Mr. Hinckley's trunk, and see that it is sent over to the barracks with the rest of the luggage. You wait in the ambulance, Hinckley, while I get the men started, and I'll rejoin you within a few minutes. Great Scott! but this, surely, is great news!"