One morning, as he took his stand on the Hong-Kong packet dock to ambush the possible tourist, he witnessed the arrival of a tubby schooner, dirty gray and blotched as though she had run through fire. From his wallet he brought forth a yellow letter. She described the Goopes and the Fabians to him, and gave him a sketch of her landlady; and he talked in the most liberal and entertaining way of a modern young woman’s outlook. In the distance a barrel-organ was grinding out a pot pourri of popular airs. Indeed I must. “She’s all right. I'm going through his pockets. " "A word," cried the boy, as the janizary was preparing to obey his master's orders.
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