"It was probably some rich man taking refuge in the Concession," he said. "They tell me the Cantonese are at Sunkiang, only about thirty miles away. Lots of Chinese are making for the Settlement." Mrs. Jackson held her cup in one hand and the _North China Daily News_ in the other. She read: "'Over a hundred executions of Communist sympathizers took place yesterday and the heads of some of the more prominent agitators were put in cages over the gates of the native city.' That ought to be a lesson to them. Will, why don't you go and take snap-shots of them to send home?" Megan involuntarily raised her eyebrows and Mrs. Jackson saw her. "But it does them good to see what goes on out here! They ought to see it with their own eyes. Why, I've seen plenty of executions at Shasi, and sometimes they hung them alive in chains on the city wall. And I'll never forget seeing heads there one rainy evening with birds pecking at them. Yes, it would do them good to realize some of this at home. No one knows what we go through out here. It is the fashion nowadays to accept everything, but it is a whole lot easier to accept things at a distance than close by. And the only way to accept calmly what happens in China is to stay at home and believe nothing any one tells you." "It is the only way, my dear, to maintain any pleasant international relations." Mr. Jackson smiled under his long mustache at Megan as he spoke. Megan did not have a very keen sense of humor, and unlike most people who lack it she knew that she lacked it. She considered it the refuge of those who dare not look facts in the face, but she saw that Mr. Jackson possessed a sense of fun arising from fundamental good temper, which he took to be humor, and it was a great comfort to him. As a boy she was sure he had put wet newspapers in the beds of his school fellows, and still remembered it with a wistful smile. "Besides," he said, "you mustn't try to frighten Miss Davis." "I'm not being frightened. I want to know what is actually happening. Whatever it is I want to know." Mrs. Jackson returned to the _North China Daily News_, which she laid on the arm of a chair while she buttered a scone.