Dr. Smith reached Mongolia in March 1889, and for the first time met his colleague. He has placed on record for use in this biography his account of that first meeting. On reaching Ch'ao Yang, Dr. Smith found that Mr. Gilmour was not there. 'I followed the innkeeper,' he writes, 'to see the spot where my devoted colleague had spent so many lonely hours. We came to a little outhouse, with a kind of little court in front of it, not many yards wide. The outer door was locked by means of a padlock; but the innkeeper soon found an entrance by simply lifting the door off its wooden hinges, and then we were in the anteroom or rather kitchen. In it was a built-in cooking-pan, an earthenware bowl, and a wooden stick resembling a Scotch porridge-stick; and some brushwood which had been brought in to be in readiness when he next arrived at that inn. One of the two rooms, which lay on each side of this ante-room, was locked, and we could not open it, but through the chinks of the door I could see abundant traces of Gilmour. It was specially refreshing to see some genuine English on one of the boxes; it was "Ferris, Bourne, & Co., Bristol," the people from whom he used to order his drugs. My servant and I decided to take up our quarters in the next room, which was evidently the servant's room. We soon managed to make ourselves very comfortable, and there was an unspeakable relief in at last being in a place which belonged to the London Mission, rented of course. We had to spend the Sunday there. Mr. Sun, the box-maker, soon came round, and seemed genuinely glad to see me, and offered to make all arrangements for the further stage of our journey. We then discharged our carts, and I sent with them my letters for home. 'After spending the Sunday in company with the Christians there, we set out on the Monday morning with a local carter for Ta ChÍng Tz[)u], a distance of about twenty-three miles. We crossed a hilly and sparsely populated district, reminding me of some of the bleaker scenery in Scotland. On reaching the town we at once drove to the new private mission premises. It was a little house surrounded by a straw fence. Quite a crowd of rough-looking people followed us in. One of the doors had been stolen, and altogether it looked so unprotected that I decided to take up my quarters in a little Mongol inn, where Mr. Gilmour formerly lived. Next day I expected to meet Gilmour, and the two Christians there were fully expecting him. In the evening we had quite a levee; Li San and the other Christian, whom Gilmour used to call "Long Legs," sat drinking tea in my room for some time, and were very friendly; they were evidently trying to ingratiate themselves with me; I did not then know how disgracefully they had behaved to Gilmour, nor did I know the anxious business which was bringing Gilmour there at that time.