another! Separate them, oh, separate them!" pleaded Fin Fan.
But her father's interference was not needed. Wong Ling swerved to one side, and falling, struck the iron foot of the stove. Tian Shan, seeing his rival unconscious, rushed out of the store.
The moon hung in the sky like a great yellow pearl and the night was beautiful and serene. But Fin Fan, miserable and unhappy, could not rest.
"All your fault! All your fault!" declared the voice of conscience.
"Fin Fan," spake a voice near to her.
Could it be? Yes, it surely was Tian Shan.
She could not refrain from a little scream.
"Sh! Sh!" bade Tian Shan. "Is he dead?"
"No," replied Fin Fan, "he is very sick, but he will recover."
"I might have been a murderer," mused Tian Shan. "As it is I am liable to arrest and imprisonment for years."
"I am the cause of all the trouble," wept Fin Fan.
Tian Shan patted her shoulder in an attempt
