"No, it was a Manchu bullet." "Good heavens! You must be in terrible pain. Let me help you." "It is nothing—a scratch." But Bob knew from the manner in which he set his foot upon the ground that the hurt was not so insignificant as Kobo would have him believe. Fortunately a few yards’ walk brought them to the spot where the rest of the party had halted. "Mrs. Pottle, let me introduce a friend of mine—Rokuro Kobo San." Kobo bowed, and Mrs. Pottle, throwing a hasty glance over his costume, jumped to a conclusion, and said cordially: "Very muchee gladee meetee you, sir." "I am indeed honoured, madam," returned Kobo, bowing again ceremoniously with impassive face. Bob and Ethel had instinctively turned aside to conceal their amusement; and Mrs. Pottle, with a surprised and startled glance at the supposed Chinaman, began haltingly: "I beg your pardon—but—" "I am a Japanese, madam. I think I once met your esteemed husband, Mr. Isidore G. Pottle." "Well!" Mrs. Pottle was too much amazed for further words. To cover her embarrassment; she ordered Ah-Sam with a flourish of her umbrella to bring the food he had been preparing, and Kobo fell to with avidity, explaining that he had eaten nothing for nearly two days. When he had satisfied his hunger, explanations were exchanged. Kobo’s story, told in his quiet unemotional way, made a strong impression upon the ladies, Mrs. Pottle frequently exclaiming, "It’s wonderful! It’s wonderful!" At Liao-yang, he explained, he had made a discovery that promised to be of great importance to his government. It was worth risking something to convey the news with all speed to General Kuroki, and he decided to take the shortest cut, the main road through Feng-huang-cheng, Kiu-lien-cheng, and Wiju, frequented though it was, trusting in his disguise as a Chinese merchant to escape detection. To guard against accident, he had sent his man Taru with an oral message by way of Yongampo, hoping that in any case he would succeed in crossing the Yalu near its mouth.