"What poet was that?" "Stevenson. ‘Sir?’ enquired the lad. Let's get to Hong-Kong, James, and hit the high spots while there is time. You have shown an almost feverish anxiety to eliminate from your personal appearance all that reminded me of you —when we first met. . Kneebone," observed Shotbolt, as he emptied his tenth tumbler; "I'm sure he's meditating an escape, and hopes to accomplish it to-night. ’ ‘What about this Leonardo fellow?’ Hilary asked, still frowning heavily. Kneebone nodded. Kevin Chen, Martin’s father, was equally stately, his dark brown eyes bright with the fire of extreme intelligence.
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