Gray listened silently. It was fortunate, in the light of what followed, that his imagination was not easily stirred. He looked curiously at the man who was to be his partner in the expedition. Van Schaick introduced them at the platform of the San Francisco terminal. Professor Arminius Delabar was a short, slender man, of wiry build and a nervous manner that reminded Gray of a bird. He had near-sighted, bloodshot eyes encased behind tinted glasses, and a dark face with well-kept beard. He was half Syrian by birth, American by choice, and a denizen of the academies and byways of the world. Also, he spoke at least four languages fluently. The army man's respect for his future companion went up several notches when he found that Delabar had already arranged competently for the purchase and shipment of their stores. "You see," he explained in his room at the hotel to Gray, "the fewer things we must buy in Shanghai the better. Our plan is to attract as little attention as possible. Our passport describes us as hunter and naturalist. Foreigners are a common sight in China as far into the interior as Liangchowfu. Once we are past there and on the interior plains, it will be hard to follow us--if we have attracted no attention. Do you speak any Chinese dialects?" It was an abrupt question, in Delabar's high voice. The Syrian spoke English with only the trace of an accent. "A little," admitted Gray. "I was born in Shensi, but I don't remember anything except a baby white camel--a playmate. Mandarin Chinese is Greek to me." Some time afterward he learned that Delabar had taken this as a casual boast--not knowing Gray's habit of understating his qualifications. Fortune plays queer tricks sometimes and Gray's answer was to loom large in the coming events. Fortune, or as Gray put it, the luck of the road, threw two obstacles in their way at Frisco. Van Schaick had telegraphed ahead to the sanitarium where the missionary Brent was being treated. He hoped to arrange an interview between Brent and Gray. Brent was dying. No one could visit him. Also, McCann, the soldier who was to accompany them, did not show up at the hotel,--although he had wired his officer at Chicago that he would be in Frisco before the appointed time. Gray would have liked to wait for the man. He knew McCann would be useful--a crack shot, a good servant, and an expert at handling men--but Delabar had already booked their passage on the next Pacific Mail steamer. "Van Schaick can wait here," Delabar assured Gray, "meet McCann, and send him on by the boat following. He will join you at Shanghai."