Delabar Leaves
hindrance, and left the building by the rear. The stable yard was dark, and apparently empty. Gray's flashlight disclosed only a mild-looking donkey, nibbling at the leaves of a plane tree.
"Guess the place isn't exactly popular just now," thought Gray.
Beside the stable, concealed by the manure piles, he found his wagons and mules, hitched up as he had ordered. A glance and a flicker of his light showed him that the surplus supplies were loaded. He pushed Delabar into the stable and whistled softly.
A coolie crept from a pile of dirty straw under the wall against which several mules were standing patiently.
"Where are the others?" demanded Gray sharply.
The other men, said the coolie, had gone.
"Why are not the fresh mules loaded, as I commanded?"
The man kow-towed. "I was afraid. This is an evil place. The priests are saying that the black mark of ill-omen has descended from Heaven"
"Five taels," broke in the white man crisply, "if you help me to load the mules. The priests will kill you if they find you here. If you come with me you will live. Choose."
From some quarter of the city came the dull thrum of temple gongs. The coolie whined in fear, and hastened to the mules.
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