To connect this line with the existing Peking-Tientsin railway, a short track was laid from Fengtai, the second station south of Peking, to Lukouch’iao, and a fine iron bridge built over the Hum Ho or Muddy river, a few hundred yards west of the original stone Marco Polo bridge. This short connecting line is but three miles in length, and is the property of the Peking-Tientsin railway. With this prelude, allow me to proceed with the event with which I was somewhat closely identified, and am able to speak of with knowledge and accuracy. [Illustration: MARBLE BRIDGE LEADING TO “FORBIDDEN CITY” A beautiful bridge, which would be a credit to any city. Marco Polo, the great traveler, nearly a thousand years ago described a similar bridge, thus showing how old is Chinese civilization compared with our own.] On October 23 I was called to Fengtai to amputate the leg of a poor coolie, who had been run over by the express train from Tientsin; and after the operation partook of tiffin at the residence of A. G. Cox, resident engineer of the Peking section of the Peking-Tientsin railway. His other guests were Major Radcliffe, of the Indian army service, on what is known as language-leave in China, and C. W. Campbell, official interpreter of the British legation. During the meal the newly completed iron bridge was spoken of by Mr. Cox, and we were all invited to accompany him after tiffin on a trolley to inspect the bridge. This I was unable to do, as a professional engagement in Peking in the afternoon at four o’clock prevented. The next morning I received the following telegram, which should have been delivered the night before; but owing to the closing of the city gates no attempt was made to deliver it: “COLTMAN, Peking:—Come to Fengtai at once. Cox and Norregaard both seriously wounded in riot at Lukouch’iao. “KNOWLES.” I immediately rode in my cart to Machiapu, the Peking terminus of the Peking-Tientsin railway, and wired down to Fengtai for an engine to come and take me down. In an hour’s time I reached Fengtai, and went at once to the residence of Mr. Cox, to find both himself and Captain Norregaard, the resident engineer and builder of the bridge at Lukouch’iao, with bandages about their heads, and a general appearance of having been roughly used. Their story of the riot was told me while I removed the dressings, applied by my assistant, a native medical student of the railway hospital at Fengtai, the day before. Mr. Cox stated that he and his two guests had gone shortly after tiffin on a trolley to Captain Norregaard’s residence, near the bridge, and having added Norregaard to their party, proceeded on foot to the bridge. Near the eastern entrance stood a party of Kansu soldiers, numbering fifty or more, who, upon the approach of the foreigners, saluted them with offensive epithets, in which the well-known “yang kuei tzu” or “foreign devil” was frequently repeated.