They were the ordinary mining coolies, equipped with long poles and baskets for their usual pilgrimages.

An animated conversation at once ensued between Ah Fe and his brother Mongolians--a conversation characterized by that usual shrill volubility and apparent animosity which was at once the delight and scorn of the intelligent Caucasian who did not understand a word of it.

Such, at least, was the feeling with which Mr.Tretherick on his veranda and Colonel Starbottle, who was passing, regarded their heathenish jargon.

The gallant colonel simply kicked them out of his way; the irate Tretherick, with an oath, threw a stone at the group, and dispersed them, but not before one or two slips of yellow rice paper, marked with hieroglyphics, were exchanged, and a small parcel put into Ah Fe's hands.

When Ah Fe opened this in the dim solitude of his kitchen, he found a little girl's apron, freshly washed, ironed, and folded.