LITMIR.BIZ

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either a Chili man or a Korean in disguise. He has a Korean accent. Hold him until I get back to the yamen.”

      “Very good, sir.” Ch’en saluted and turned. He made a gesture, and two men came out of the crowd. I told him to wait until I was gone, then summoned a coolie and reentered the shop.

      The coolie took up the sack of manuscripts and Groot came out with me.

      “Where to?” I demanded.

      “Why—I’m stopping at a temple outside the city,” he responded.

      “Then we’ll go to a tea-room and talk it over.” I directed the coolie to a place not far distant, and Groot agreed without demur, except that he begged me not to lose the coolie. Ten minutes later we were sitting in a private compartment of a tea palace with the sack of books beside us and the coolie squatting outside.

      “Now,” I said, “spill it! What stirred you out of Berkeley?”

      “I’m on a year’s leave of absence, Breck,” he explained eagerly. “It seems that the Chinese Government heard of my research work; and you know how interested they are in all such things? Well, I was offered a good salary, an exceptional salary, to come to China and do some investigation along my own lines. Breck, just think of an oriental government appropriating money for such purposes, when our own government won’t spend a cent! Just compare the two!”

      “Just compare,” I said, “what our own government is spending on air service, and what the Chinese government is spending! That’s more to the point. But what Chinese government are you talking about, Groot?”

      He took off his spectacles and polished them, looking rather astonished.

      “Why, the government, of course! At Peking, you know!”

      “Oh!” I returned. “I was talking of the Shanghai government. May I inquire who conducted the negotiations with you in Berkeley?”

      “A man named Schmidts, of German extraction, I believe, but a Chinese citizen.”

      I thought so; I knew all about Schmidts. He was a prominent member of the German-Japanese group who had the poor devils in Peking under their thumbs. And Groot, like nine out of ten Americans, thought that Peking ruled all of China. Well, I had no time to spend enlightening him just yet.

      “Congratulations,” I said dryly. “What kind of research are you doing?”

      He warmed up. “My boy, I’ve just concluded an exhaustive study of the alfalfa subject—an epochal subject! You know, the alfalfa and the grape were introduced into China by General Chang K’ien, who went on a mission to Persia in 126 B.C. to procure horses for the Han emperor Wu.

      “Well, the word used in China since that time for alfalfa, that is, the Medicago sativa, has always been mu-su, and it has puzzled Sinologues as to origin. I have finally traced the term back to a lost Iranian word, which will have the general form of buksuk. When my monograph on the subject has been published, Breck, it will absolutely confound the world! Just think how far astray even men like Hirth and Giles have gone!”

      I agreed with him that it was a terrible thing.

      “For the last three weeks,” he went on eagerly, “I have been working night and day on the problem, and my manuscript is now practically finished. I only came into the city today in order to obtain this copy of the Yuan Shi, of which I was informed by friends. I hope to take up the study of Persian influences in China of the Yuan or Mongol period, and this original edition of the chronicles will be invaluable.”

      I let him talk on. While Groot had been poring over some temple library, chasing mu-su back two or three thousand years until he finally hypnotized himself into thinking he had arrived somewhere, China had been waking up. The southern and western provinces were firmly established under the Shanghai government. Peking’s old mandarins, struggling along to save their face and secretly powerless against the tide of corruption, were practically disowned by the country at large. It was war; not open war, but a submarine fight to save the oldest empire and youngest republic of Asia from the Prussianized liars whose system depended upon maintaining the Mikado as the last autocratic Caesar of the world.

      Japan, as a nation, was well enough. It was the politicians, the German-trained horde of caste, who were playing the devil with things. Politicians are the curse of every country. Japan, in the persons of her best men, wished China well; but her politicians were resolved to destroy China. And against them, like a wall, stood the enlightened, patriotic group of men who had sworn never to see their country degraded.

      “Where are you stopping?” I asked Groot, who did not realize that I was pumping him.

      “At Hsi-hsin-ho, Heart-resting-place. It’s a small temple, but goes back to the Chin dynasty; has a wonderful library. It’s about seven miles outside town—”

      “Oh, I know about it,” I responded, with some truth. I knew no good of it, either. “Did anybody give you a message to bring into town?”

      Groot, poor innocent soul, regarded me with astonishment.

      “Why, how did you guess, Breck? Yes, I brought in a note from one of the priests, who has a cousin here. Poor chap, he’s in very bad health—”

      “What’s his name?” I cut in. “The chap here in the city, I mean.”

      Groot told me. I jotted down the name and address, together with a note to the military governor, called the tea-room proprietor and ordered the message sent to the yamen. By this time Groot suspected something was up.

      “See here, Breck, just what does all this mystery mean?”

      “No mystery,” and I grinned. “You’re in bad hands, old man, and you’d better stop over for a day or two until we get things straightened out—”

      “Stop over!” he exclaimed. “Why Breck, it’s impossible! I promised Mary I’d be back—”

      “Mary!” It was my turn to stare. “Who the devil is Mary? Are you married?”

      “Mary’s my niece—Mary Fisher. Bless my soul, didn’t I tell you she was with me? And we expected Baron Rosoff to arrive today for a week or so. You must come out and see us, Breck!”

      “Don’t worry,” I said grimly. “I will. Just at present, Groot, you’re under arrest.”

      At that, poor Groot only looked bewildered. It took me half an hour to convince him that he and Mary Fisher were up to their necks in hot water.

      CHAPTER II

      John Li Dies

      It was true that I was in charge of the aviation work here. But I was actually unattached and my own boss. Having been born a missionary’s son, and having spent my childhood in China, I knew the upcountry dialects fairly well; and consequently was putting it to use.

      There is absolutely no red tape to the Shanghai government—those chaps are doers! I was engaged as an aviator, set to work as a constructing engineer, and given a free hand as a sort of secret service emissary. I was needed badly, too. Szechwan is one of the richest provinces in the country, and Peking would leave no stone unturned to get her back.

      There was no doubt that Alan Groot was being utilized and had been utilized in a dozen ways of which he had no idea, and he was extremely shocked when I made the fact clear. He stated that he would resign his position immediately.

      “Do it,” I told him, “but that isn’t going to save your niece.”

      “Save her? From what?” he inquired.

      “Blessed if I know; but they had some purpose in letting her come with you. Of course I could march some soldiers out to your temple, but we’d gain nothing by using force just now. There are scores of temples scattered over the hills and plain, and if we know just which one is the focus of intrigue, we can handle things. I’d like to get Mary Fisher out of there, though. Who’s this Baron Rosey?”

      “Rosoff,”

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