She turned away to the pots of flowers that stood closely spaced just within the elaborate woodwork of the railing. There were chrysanthemums, white, yellow and deep Indian red; highly cultivated double dahlias; red lotus blossoms; and tuberoses that filled the fresh morning air with their heavy perfume. “Well?” Connor added explosively. “I said I'd tell you by sunrise, Tex,” she said, coolly pleasant; and hummed, very softly, a music-hall tune, bending over a spreading lotus blossom with every appearance of ingenuous girlish interest. After a moment, she went on, “The thing now is to get this junk up the river as fast as it will go.” “Where to?” He was controlling his voice, but his face, usually expressionless, was brutally clouded.... “Push me just a little farther, Dix, and you'll go overboard. And there won't be any flowers at the funeral. By God, I'm not sure I wouldn't enjoy it. You got me into this business! Now if you--” “Better control yourself, Tex,” said she; straightening up before him. “I may have got you in, but it's a real job now. You've got to go through. And you're going to need me. The place is a few miles this side of a town called Huang Chau, on the north hank.” “Beyond Hankow?” “No, below. It's only a matter of hours getting up there, if you'll just get this junk started.” “How'll we know it when we get there?” “All we've got to do is ask a native, anywhere along the bank, where Kang Yu lives--his old home.” “Who's he?” “The viceroy of Nanking. Why don't you use that eye of yours once in a while, Tex--look around you a little?” Slowly his mind, so quick at the vicious games of his own race, picked up and related the facts. His face relaxed, as he thought, into the familiar wooden expression. “You're sure the stones are there?” he asked, quietly now. She nodded; hummed again; caressed the flowers. “All right, Dix,” he said then, as he turned to go forward, “that sounds square enough. I guess I can handle it all right. And I'll see that you get your share all hunky dory.” “What are you figuring my share to be?” she asked, glancing casually up from a lotus blossom. “Oh,” he cried without hesitation, almost playfully, “you and I aren't going to have any trouble about that.” He went then; and she lingered among the flowers. From beyond the long deck house came shouts and wailing. The great sweeps were got overside. The mooring poles were hoisted out and lashed along the sponsons. The clumsy craft swung out into the river and moved slowly forward. At the sound of a hasty light step Dixie looked up into the haggard gray face of the Kid. “What was it?” he whispered, glancing fearfully behind him. “Wha'd he say to you?” She dropped her eyes; turned away. “Quick! Tell me, or by God, I'll--” She threw up a frail white hand. “Not now, Jim!” “When?” “He'll have to sleep. There's work ahead.” “If you think _I_ can sleep--”