Miss Kendrick listened with absorbed interest. Whatever of raillery or affectation there had been in her manner was gone. "I’m not wise about such matters," she said soberly, "but I think you have done what you ought. I’ve heard of this dreadful slavery from the girls who teach at the Mission, but I can hardly believe it. I’m sure we must do what we can to save this girl." She was silent for a little, and then went on. "I’m afraid my list is the Mission list. And you’re quite certain the Mission list won’t do?" "Quite certain." She counted her small fingers with an inaudible moving of the lips, and I watched her with the pleasure that one takes in watching a pretty child. She was so small it seemed impossible that she was seriously considering one of the serious problems of life. She gave a little sigh as the last finger was reached. "I’m afraid I don’t know her," she said regretfully. "All my ladies are very religious ladies, and I don’t think they would approve your bargain at all. I’m not sure, on mature consideration, that I approve it myself." "It is that or nothing." "Isn’t there a law, or a habeas corpus writ, or a policeman, or something?" said Miss Kendrick anxiously. "I’m afraid," said I, smiling grimly at the recollection of Big Sam and his power, "that the law doesn’t afford us much encouragement. We should never find her if we tried that policy." "Well, I suppose you know best about that. So I don’t see anything to do but to take her in here." "Why, Miss Kendrick!" I exclaimed. "I didn’t think of such a thing as that. What would your uncle say?" "Uncle might be a little explosive," admitted Miss Kendrick with a smile, "but it’s just possible that he could be managed." I was perplexed to know what to do. I could see vague, unformed reasons against accepting her offer, yet it might prove that there was no other resource, if I was not to abandon the Chinese girl to her fate. I was turning over in my mind what to say when a servant appeared and announced: "Mr. Baldwin to see you, Miss." Miss Kendrick blushed very prettily at the name, and I felt a sudden dislike of any man who should be so far in her favor that his name should call the color to her face. "Here’s the man who can help us," she said. "He’s sure to know somebody who will do." This confidence in Mr. Baldwin gave me a most unpleasant shock, nor were my unchristian feelings softened by the air of confidential proprietorship with which Mr. Baldwin took Miss Kendrick’s hand and replied to Miss Kendrick’s greeting. Mr. Baldwin proved to be a tall, big-faced young man, with a black mustache and a pair of snapping black eyes. He accepted an introduction with such frigid politeness that it was only an access of internal resentment that prevented me from being frozen. "I believe we have not met," he said coldly. "I believe not," I replied cheerfully, "though I saw you in the last trial of Merwin against Bolton."