"Do as I say," commanded Gray sharply.
The soldier, apparently tired of waiting, had risen and drawn his weapon. He bent over the Kirghiz who remained kneeling. The sight quickened Gray's pulse—in spite of the danger he knew he ran from interfering with the Chinese authorities.
"Quick," he added. His companion whispered to the soldier who glanced at the American in surprise and hesitated.
Gray counted out thirteen taels—about ten dollars—and added five more. "I have talked with Wu Fang Chien," he explained, "and I will buy this man's life. If the value of the horse is paid, the crime will be no more."
The blue-coated Manchu said something, evidently an objection.
"He says," interpreted the Chinaman, who was eyeing the money greedily, "that thirteen taels will not wipe out the insult to the judge."
"Five more will," Gray responded. "He can keep them if he likes. And here's a tael for you."
The volunteer interpreter clasped the coin in a claw-like hand. Gray thrust the rest of the money upon the hesitating executioner, and seized Mirai Khan by the arm.
Nodding to the Kirghiz, he led him through the crowd, which was muttering uneasily. He turned down an alley.
"Can you get out of Liangchowfu without being seen?" the American asked his new purchase. He was more confident now of the tribal speech.