There was nothing to replace the all important letter from her father. \" She was never hungry for human food. Aunt Jane had her quiet moments. " "Sir Rowland Trenchard!" echoed Jack, in amazement. One morning, as he took his stand on the Hong-Kong packet dock to ambush the possible tourist, he witnessed the arrival of a tubby schooner, dirty gray and blotched as though she had run through fire. It was still too dark for reading, but she could see well enough to note the number of the last page—fifty-six. She hoped that he would at long last remember his young male pride.
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