nounced. Never have I heard such cursing as I did that night. The fiends were raving for their drug. Without it their nerves ripped like rotted threads.
"Jolly Cauldron summoned me to his cabin.
"'They're all mad,' he cried and he forced a revolver into my hand, 'Only you and I on this ship are sane. The rest are merely beasts. If they try mutiny we'll shoot them down. It'll be our lives or theirs.'
"For the remainder of the night I crouched in the bow of the schooner. All about us yawned the blackness of death. The humidity was so heavy it formed a veritable mist. We could not see the stars. The moon had not yet risen, and in no direction was there any sign of light save that phosphorescent glare on the waters. The sails hung limp from the yards. We scarcely moved. And as I sat there, despite the weirdness of the night, I dozed. I dreamed that a figure was creeping upon me.
"With a start I opened my eyes. Directly over me stood the gaunt figure of a man. Now the moon had risen and the mists had cleared. It shone on the uplifted blade of a knife. I had no time to reach for my revolver. Spellbound I gazed into the sinister face beyond the knife. It glistened madly in the eery light. Then a shot rang out and the horrible face writhed in agony. Out of the shadows Jolly Cauldron appeared.
"'Can't even protect yourself!' he sneered; 'merely a worthless mongrel.'
"The following day we stopped at a tiny island, peopled entirely by Chinese. Jolly Cauldron wished to renew his opium supply. So intent was he on his mission that he momentarily forgot my existence. In the excitement I ran away and hid in the hills well back from the coast. Hours later, from a secluded position on a high cliff, I watched The Poppy Pearl slip out to sea. She looked very beautiful with all her sails set, racing before the wind. Nothing in her appearance suggested her true character.
"Toward evening that same day I was able to book passage on a Chinese junk bound for Canton. Although the accommodations were far worse than those of steerage passengers on trans-Atlantic liners, I found no fault with them. At least the crawling things were there in fewer numbers. In due course we arrived in Canton, ancient city of mystery, where the East and the West rub shoulders. A few days later I caught a steamer for Shanghai, where I connected with a liner bound for San Francisco. I was on my way back to America and you."
2
Ten days after his arrival in New York, Guy Sellers was married to Gloria Lee. They had given up their plans for a big wedding and only a few intimate friends were present. For their honeymoon they went to England, to a little house in Stanbury Downs far off the beaten track of travel. It lay nestled in a charming garden like a mushroom in the heart of the woods. Mother Grimes, who kept the cottage, was a delightful little old woman who seemed to anticipate their every want.
"I think we should pass up London absolutely," declared Gloria, "and just rusticate here. I'm sure no other spot in England could be more appealing than this."
And yet they did visit London, where, like hordes of others, they were enthralled by the "charm of the antique," the steeples of Sir Christopher Wren, stately Westminster Abbey and legendary London Tower, not to mention the friendly little coffee-houses tucked away in the most outlandish spots and hidden
