With a tightening of the lips, Gray straightened and surveyed the inn. It was empty and dark except for a lantern with a crimson shade that hung over the door. Either the people of the place had seen the dead Buddhist and fled to spread the news, or they had given the room a wide berth since that afternoon. He could not know which was actually the case. Gray, however, could afford to waste no time in speculation. He went back into their chamber, fastened his rifle over his shoulder by its sling, and jerked Delabar to his feet. "It's time we got out of here, Professor," he said, "if you haven't settled our hash for good." The man was muttering and stumbling--hardly able to keep his feet. He could give no assistance to Gray. They crossed the main room of the inn without hindrance, and left the building by the rear. The stable yard was dark, and apparently empty. Gray's flashlight disclosed only a mild-looking donkey, nibbling at the leaves of a plane tree. "Guess the place isn't exactly popular just now," thought Gray. Beside the stable, concealed by the manure piles, he found his wagons and mules, hitched up as he had ordered. A glance and a flicker of his light showed him that the surplus supplies were loaded. He pushed Delabar into the stable and whistled softly. A coolie crept from a pile of dirty straw under the wall against which several mules were standing patiently. "Where are the others?" demanded Gray sharply. The other men, said the coolie, had gone. "Why are not the fresh mules loaded, as I commanded?" The man kow-towed. "I was afraid. This is an evil place. The priests are saying that the black mark of ill-omen has descended from Heaven----" "Five _taels_," broke in the white man crisply, "if you help me to load the mules. The priests will kill you if they find you here. If you come with me you will live. Choose." From some quarter of the city came the dull thrum of temple gongs. The coolie whined in fear, and hastened to the mules. It is no easy task to strap the packs on four mules in the dark. Gray let Delabar, who had subsided into slumber at contact with the cool outer air, slump on the dirt floor of the stable. He adjusted his flashlight in the straw so its beam would help them to see what they were about. He found as he expected that the other coolies had made away with many of the stores. They had taken, however, the things most valuable to them, which were least necessary to Gray--such as clothing, cooking utensils, and the heavy boxes of Chinese money. These last were a grave loss, but Gray had a good deal of gold in his money belt, and he knew that Delabar had the same amount. The two men loaded the remaining boxes on the animals--the provisions that Delabar had purchased in San Francisco, with medicines and several blankets that had been overlooked by the thieves.