“Oh, yes! Pretty darned hard to put it over His Excellency. After that it was no trouble at all to behead commanders of Looker troops.”
“Naturally,” was Brachey's only comment. He proceeded to draw out, bit by bit, other details of the story.
Some one stepped before the tent, and a strong voice called:
“Mr. Brachey.”
With a nervously abrupt movement Brachey sprang up and threw back the flaps; and beheld, standing there, stooping in order that he might see within, the giant person of Griggsby Doane.
2
Brachey bowed coldly. Doane's strong gaunt face worked perceptibly.
Brachey said:
“Won't you come in, sir? The tent is”—there was a pause—“the tent is small, but... You are perhaps acquainted with Mr. Po Sui-an of the yamen of His Excellency Pao Ting Chuan.”
Mr. Doane bowed toward the Chinese gentleman.