A space of time went by. Then, across the level from the railway, three shadows! Yee Wing sank down and crept noiselessly to the door of the magazine, opened it, and stood just within the black entrance. The three shadows were nearer now, but motionless. Yee Wing called out: “Come, honourable brothers, come. Why wait you yonder?” The shadows moved, but there was no answer. They separated. One came forward under cover of the house; one turned to the right; one to the left. “Come, brothers, come,” called Yee Wing, again. His voice was light and mocking. “The spoil is large. You shall take all my possessions with you--this time.” The three stopped short. Then, as one, they turned, fleeing. Too late! Yee Wing stepped back into the magazine--a match sputtered up---- The night was split by a great burst of thunder. It went resounding across the salt flats to Alameda, across the bay to the City beside the Gate, it was beaten back by the brown Piedmont hills. And with it, as the earth quaked to the sound, the souls of three Sam Sings, and of Yee Wing, Powder-man, went forth to join the souls of their ancestors. THE SEARCH FOR THE SPRING “Mr. Edward Heaton, sir.” Austin Knowles, sitting alone over his coffee and paper, put down his cup and leaned back, an expression of pleased surprise lighting his grave face. “Oh,--ask Mr. Heaton to come in here,” he said. A moment, and the servant ushered in a young man whose manner, frank and boyishly eager at the threshold, at once became, on catching sight of the other, more subdued, even somewhat solicitous. The elder looked up. “Well,” was his kindly greeting, “you’re abroad early. Take a chair. Everything all right at the building, I hope.” “Yes, sir,--not a vacancy since McGinn & McGinn, the attorneys, leased. That was two months ago.” There was a touch of pride in Heaton’s answer. “You’re the best superintendent I’ve ever had, Ned. I’m more than satisfied with you. And as long as your good judgment about tenants seems to have simplified your work at the building, you may feel you can branch out a little. You know Sparling is leaving me the first of the month.” “The Montgomery street property!” Heaton’s face crimsoned with pleasure. “Oh, thank you,--I’d like to try that.” “Well, we’ll see.” The elder man went back to his coffee, the habitual look of gravity again settling upon his face. Heaton was a full minute collecting himself. “What I came for this morning,” he began at last, “was a personal matter.” “Yes?”