In mid-afternoon the murderous prison-guard found an opportunity to whisper that Romney’s liberty would have been obtained hours before, had there not been found another charge against him, the nature of which was not yet clear. The prisoner was asked to be patient, however, that great forces were at work to set him free. Romney took another long breath. At times like this, the period of his life, since the parting at Longstruth’s seemed altogether irrational. They had not yet cleansed the floor of his cell. It was not until toward evening that he was led forth to meet this mysterious new charge. A bearded Chinese in lavender robes sat in a high box and appeared four-eyed behind his spectacles. Before him stood the avid McLean of the _John Dividend_, now turning at the step of his prey and feasting his single eye on the length and thinness of the American. Romney’s laugh was doubtless charged to him. "Hello, Mac," he said, "I heard you had gone way down—" "It has cost me a great deal to bring you face to face—" "If I had seen you ten minutes after our meeting over the wall in Shanghai, I could have fixed that little matter—" "It is to be fixed now. The cost of collection and the payment for personal damage received—brings the amount to twenty-five pounds. The items are all here—" McLean presented a long paper of charges. "I may not have that much—what in that case?" "Back to _John Dividend_ or rot here—" Romney recalled that he had slightly less than a hundred dollars, which, with his other belongings, was now in the hands of the police. He offered seventy-five dollars to close McLean’s claim. To his surprise this amount—three times the original loan—was refused. "Come around to-morrow—maybe I can raise the wind," Romney suggested. "I’ve made you a lot of trouble and you’ve got a right to be sore." Romney was still further surprised that the money-lender did not wabble. He had not expected to be led back to the cell. An hour later, however, he was called to the office again and after an evening’s performance of formality, extending through trial, initiatory and several deeper degrees, he found himself in the street, his own money not used in obtaining this freedom, and a secret verbal order, imparted by the prison-guard, for him to report at once to the shop of Minglapo. Dr. Ti Kung had returned. The three were gathered at the dais when Romney was admitted. Dr. Ti Kung raised his hand and apologised for not rising. "From what they tell me," he said with a tired smile, "your former proficiency in athletics has stood you in good stead." Minglapo glanced whimsically at the forward casement, repaired since Romney had crashed through. The deep bubble of a laugh started, but dripped back.