"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.