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YES, ONLY A LITTLE, FOR IT TAKES NEARLY THREE THOUSAND OF THEM TO MAKE A DOLLAR.

"This is our often abused but ever available 'cash,'" said Mr. Reid, holding up one of the crude bits of metal for Mallard to see. "As there are no bankers or money changers on the way, we must take it with us, for it is the only coin accepted in the rural districts. We must have a little ready money with us," he added.

"Oh, uncle, you call that a little?" and Mallard pointed to the pony with his burden of coin.

"Yes, only a little, for it takes nearly three thousand of them to make a dollar."

Mallard recalled his uncle's words now, as he was helping to store the coin away in what Helen and Dorothy had termed the sitting room of the sampan.

He had turned to address a merry remark to Helen when he was struck by the appearance of Mr. Kit-ze. The boatman had stopped in the midst of something he was doing as suddenly as though he had felt the force of an electric shock. He had thrown his head up and was now clutching nervously at the folds of his blouse. Almost at the moment that Mallard's eyes were directed upon him he uttered a sharp little cry. It was of sufficient compass to reach the ears of the others. As their eyes too were turned upon him, what was the astonishment of all to see Mr. Kit-ze the next moment rush up the bank to where one of the ponies, with empty saddle, was standing, and flinging himself upon it, go galloping away like one suddenly out of his senses.

CHAPTER III

THE LOST RECOVERED

xclamations of astonishment and of dismay followed Mr. Kit-ze. "What can he mean?" asked Mr. Reid, his eyes fixed in wonder upon the fast-retreating form of his boatman. "He surely hasn't deserted us!"

"It evidently looks that way," replied Mr. Wilburn.

"Now we are in a box!" exclaimed Clarence. "How are we to go on without our sampan man?"

"Well, we have the sampan," remarked Mallard cheerfully. "The only other thing now is to look out for some one to take charge of it."

"Easier said than accomplished," commented Mr. Reid. "Besides, though Mr. Kit-ze has deserted us, yet the sampan is his. We can't take possession without his consent."

"He has forfeited his right to protest against such a step," declared Mr. Wilburn, "by his desertion and breach of contract. I am for taking possession of the sampan, engaging some one to have charge of it, assisted by Mr. Chefoo here, then allowing Mr. Kit-ze so much for its use."

"But a competent sampan man is hard to find," said Mr. Reid. "That was why I stuck to Mr. Kit-ze."

"Oh, but it is too bad to lose our trip!" exclaimed Mr. Wilburn, "especially when so much relating to our work depends on it," and he looked wistfully at Mr. Reid.

"Yes, too bad," assented Mallard.

"Oh, we must go," declared Clarence.

Even Helen and Dorothy were for going on, that is, if satisfactory arrangements could be made.

"But maybe Mr. Kit-ze will return," suggested Helen.

"Yes," said Mr. Chefoo, who now spoke for the first time, "he will return." All turned to look at him inquiringly. He had spoken very positively.

"What makes you say that?"

"Because, honorable sirs, he went away as one who will come back. There was no parting word. He will return."

"He didn't have sense for any parting word," commented Clarence. "It seemed all taken from him."

"No," asserted Mr. Chefoo, "it was only the excitement that comes when one knows there has been a loss."

"'A loss'!" echoed Clarence.

"Yes; Mr. Kit-ze has either lost something of very great value, for which he has now gone to make search, or else he has forgotten something that he has gone to bring. It is one or the other as you will in time discover, son of the honorable teacher."

"But why act in that demented way? Couldn't he have explained to us, and then gone after it in a respectable fashion?"

"It was something by which he set so great a store, youthful sir, that he was overcome by what its loss signified to him. I should say," continued Mr. Chefoo, "that it is something without which he could not proceed, or without which he——"

Here Mr. Chefoo paused.

"Well?" asked Clarence.

"Without which he would fear to go on."

"I see!" exclaimed Mr. Reid. "It was——"

"Let me finish, father," cried Clarence. "It was the red miriok. That old crank has either left it or lost it. Now we must be tied up here waiting his pleasure."

"Yes," said Mr. Reid in a disgusted manner, "it was the red miriok that carried him off in that demented way; I am sure of it. But don't call him a crank so boldly, Clarence. It would offend him should he hear it."

"Well, what else is he? It is just too bad to be deserted in this way and for such silliness. Oh, I wish that the red miriok was in the bottom of the river."

"Then, we'd never get Mr. Kit-ze to proceed," assured Mr. Wilburn, who by this time had heard the story of the red miriok; "or at least not until its counterpart was procured. But we can't stay here," he continued. "We must, at least, try getting on to the next village. There Mr. Kit-ze can join us. We'll leave word for him. This is a very objectionable locality for more reasons than one, and the sooner we move away from it the better."

In the meanwhile a large crowd had gathered, both on the river bank and in the shallow water surrounding the sampan. All were agape with curiosity. It is a well-known saying in Korea, and one the truth of which travelers have often proved, that if you move on, very little comment is excited; but if you stand still and appear to be engaged in anything, or even to be looking at an object, curiosity of the most intense kind is aroused. It takes but a minute or two then for the crowd to gather around you, each individual member thereof following anxiously the glance of your eye and hanging with almost breathless intent upon every movement of hand or leg.

There were women and children in the crowd as well as men. The former were so overcome by their curiosity that they had for the time forgotten to keep their long, green coats close up about their eyes, which is the custom when women are abroad in Korea. They now hung loosely about their necks, the long, wide sleeves that are rarely used swinging over their shoulders.

An old woman with much vigor of speech offered them barley sugar for sale. She was very dirty, and her wares looked as uninviting as herself. But feeling sorry for her, Helen invested quite liberally in the barley sugar, immediately bestowing it upon a little group of open-mouthed children who stood near. In some way the old woman had caught a part, at least, of the situation. She seemed to comprehend that they were at a loss whether to go on or to stay. In return for Helen's graciousness she came to the rescue by suggesting that they send for a mutang (sorceress) who lived near. She would come with her drum and cymbals, her wand and divination box,[1] and in a little while she could tell them what to do.

The sun was now climbing nearer and nearer the meridian, and its rays were growing unpleasantly warm. More than an hour had been wasted since the loading of the sampan. They had burned the bridge behind them, as the saying is, by sending the man back to the city with the ponies. There was nothing now but to go on, even if they had to turn back in the midst of the journey.

Mr. Chefoo was the good fairy that came to the rescue. He seemed to