The Mount Holly news. [volume] (Mount Holly, Burlington Co., N.J.) 1891-1942, 1910-07-05
The Seventh
Gate
A Story of the Chinese
Forbidden City.
By CLARISsA MACKIE
Copyright. 1910. by American Press
Association.

y
Association.
Owen Ryder left the train at the ter
minus several miles outside the walls
of Picking and covered the remaining
distance toward the city gate on the
back of donkey.
AS he approached the seventh gate
he paused for an instant He had
come on a journey of thousands of
miles to accomplish a mission, and now
most within his grasp he hesltated-
Fear had no part in his hesitation.
He was comparatively safe in the dis
guise afforded by his Chinese dress
as safe as any native Chinese who
wished to gain admission to the For
hidden City
Then. with quick indrawn breath, he
moved into the deeper shadow Of the
gate. As his hands touched the bronze
doors they swung softly inward and
engulfed him.
A dark shadow doomed at his side
and, without sound, guided him close
against the inner wall in a curving
line. They came to an abrupt stop in
a grove of trees whose tops rustled
high over their heads. Before them
were the dim outline and bulky mass
Of some huge building.
At last door closed softly behind
them, the hands were removed from
Ryder's lips and arm, and presently q
light twinkled out of the gloom.
The American turned to look at his
companion, who had withdrawn khe
cover from a small bronze lantern and
stood revealed In its dim light.
Ryder stared and stared again at the
tall, spare figure that confronted him.
This was no Chinese-this man with
deep sunken blue eyes and wisps of
fair hair sticking out from under the
cue bound about his forehead. Owen
Ryder's wondering gaze travelled over
the yelIowed skin drawn tightly over
the protruding cheek bones, down to
the handsome nose and bitter, curling
lips, down to the common blue cotton
Chinese dress and then up again with
puzzled eyes to study the face with
something lacking something-what2
The man hsughed silently as he lift
ed his bony hands to each side Of his
head. "You miss these appendages,
my friend. have been cropped, you
see." His voice was low and vibrant
with some suppressed emotion.
Ryder gasped. Your ears-my God?'
He felt within his blouse for the COM
Portable reinsurance Of bis revolver,
and his fingers curled about the butt
lovingly.
"Your ears next, my friend, and the
ears of all who pass through the sew
enth gate inward" said the stranger
with assumed lightness. He turned
and pointed to the wall behind him,
and Ryder gasped again to see line
of dark figures stretched along the
floor.
"Earless freaks" said the tall stran-
ger, with sudden dreartness in his
mocking tone. "Sit down on the floor
man, and tell your story-nay, let me
preface 1t for you and for me and the
rest of us-white men!
go ahead" said Ryder.
"You are an artist of some sort. You
have learned that these people have
recovered their lost art Of producing
Kiastin porcelain, that rare painting
Of invisible flowers. fishes or Other
symbols on the outside of porcelain
vessels, paintings that are only reveal
ed when the vessel is filed with liquor
of some sort The discoverer of this
lost and precious art Is confined to his
workshop in the palace here. The re
tention of the secret means the add
ton of large sums of money to this
country; hence they guard it carefully
You were put on to the secret, you
have come to spy it out, you have
reached as far as
Il had a model began Ryder eager
ly, when the other mans low Laugh