"I hope we have sense enough to know that much," returned Laura soberly, "though I don’t blame you for thinking we haven’t. I shan’t dare let her out of doors unless there’s a regiment of soldiers about the house." "I’ll have a few more men here to-morrow; but you’d better keep her in till I give the word that all is safe." Laura Kendrick looked sharply at me. "You needn’t try to hide it," she said. "I see in your face that there’s something more you’re afraid of, and you’d better tell it now rather than later." "I wasn’t intending to conceal it. In fact, I was going to warn you against letting strange white men into the house. I’ve had a warning that leads me to believe that the fellow who was here asking questions yesterday is one of a gang hired by the highbinders to recover Moon Ying. They are much more dangerous than Little John, but if we don’t give them a chance they won’t hurt us." Moon Ying had followed our conversation with eager attention; and though many of the words were beyond her understanding, she had caught the meaning of what we said. "Too bad--too velly bad," she said, with sudden resolution evident in her face. "Bad man come, makee you ’flaid, maybe shoot. I go ’way, bad man no come." "Indeed you shan’t go away," cried Laura. "There’s no place on earth you could be safe, even if we did let you go." "I go Big Sam. Him velly big man. No bad man catch-em me in Big Sam’s house. No bad man catch-em you when me-gone." At these words, Laura impulsively flung her arms about Moon Ying. "You dear creature!" she cried. "Nobody shall hurt you here--and nobody will hurt us, either. My uncle can protect you much better than Big Sam, and Big Sam himself has said so." Moon Ying tried to express more fully her fear that her presence brought danger to the household, but her language was unequal to her thought, and Laura and Mercy both talked at once to assure her that they feared nothing, and would refuse to give her up, even though all the tongs of Chinatown should come in force to demand her; so Moon Ying at last with a sigh of grateful content said: "I likee stay--I likee you." And Laura on one side, and Mercy on the other, twined their arms about her with a laugh that was almost a sob. It was a pretty picture of the sisterhood of Occident and Orient, and I admired it, with something of the feminine emotions raising a lump in my throat, when I was observed by the lady of the house. "Go away," she said. "This is no place for men." And in spite of my remonstrance that I was in perfect harmony with my surroundings, I was driven forth, and went down-stairs to find Wharton Kendrick taking a Sunday afternoon nap in his den. He gave me a sleepy greeting, but roused himself to attention at my account of the Nob Hill meeting, the midnight session of the Council of Nine, the morning meeting in Bolton’s office, and the warning from Big Sam.