“I got in the last word; that’s something,” he said, as he quietly wrote out his order for the draft. “I wonder who he is. By his accent I should say he was of a Latin race. He spoke to me in good English, though.” “Do you suppose he is a naval officer from a foreign gunboat?” Sydney asked by way of an answer. “No; he’s probably some beach-comber,” Phil answered testily, taking his paper to the cashier’s desk. “And as far as I am concerned I don’t care who he is. He’s not of sufficient importance to give him any more attention,” he added, shutting his firm jaws with a snap in dismissing the unpleasant incident. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s forget him. There are lots of things here more amusing.” CHAPTER III THE PERIL AT THE MISSION GATE Upon their return on board the “Phœnix,” the midshipmen found all was activity. A message had been received from Emmons which had decided Commander Hughes to wait no longer before sending the guard to protect the defenseless mission on the hill some miles from the town. Persistent rumors were current that the Chinese outlaws would very soon make an effort to efface this heathen blot of stone from their sacred soil. In the course of a half hour all was in readiness to embark the guard. Tents, rations, Colt gun and rifles were carried into the waiting boats, and in a few minutes more the small party of officers and men found themselves on the stone jetty, immediately in front of the Chinese city. Under the eyes of a quickly-gathered, curious crowd of Chinese, the sailors formed and marched along the road skirting the fortified wall of the city. After some miles had been covered, the great buildings of the mission came in sight, and soon after they were admitted within the walled compound by the anxious missionaries, whose dread of Chinese cruelty had been acquired through long residence among these fanatical people. Many of their number they had seen sacrificed by the lawless element of a superstitious and conservative race, whom they had come thousands of miles to civilize according to their Western standards. The sailor sentinels were quickly stationed at the four corners of the walled compound, and the peaceful mission was soon transformed into a warlike fortress. “What do you think of all this?” inquired Phil of the pilot after the lads had finished their duties of preparing for the defense. “I think,” answered Langdon, a grim smile on his face, “that these missionaries are wise to build their houses inside of a stone fort. The only way to succeed in civilizing the Chinese is to make sure that they don’t kill you before you’ve had a chance to show them the benefits of our methods.” “But I mean,” urged Phil, “do you believe that there’s going to be trouble?”