116 A TALE OF THE BORDER 



On the next occasion that he visited the chief 

 she met him at the gate. Wei-sha was for passing 

 on, but she stopped him. 



That night Wei-sha came stealthily up the village 

 street, and stopped at the house of Lao. A muffled 

 figure opened the door to him, and after shutting it 

 led him up the rickety ladder to a room overlooking 

 the roof. That visit was the first of many, until 

 almost every night the door was cautiously and 

 quietly opened, and he creaked up the ladder. 

 After every visit he added a little to the store of 

 opium which gave him such wonderful dreams in 

 the dirty little room at the end of the village 

 street. 



Out beyond the outskirts of the village lived a 

 man who had been a friend of Lao's father. He 

 was quite a poor man, honest as men go in Thibet, 

 but weak and without strength of any kind. He 

 had one great grief, his youngest son, a man of 

 twenty-five. Ts'i was weak, too, but viciously so, 

 and without any of his father's good nature. He 

 drank when he got the chance, brawled, consorted 

 with women of loose character, defied his father's 

 authority, and, generally speaking, lost no chance 

 of a short cut to the painted devils who grinned in 

 the temple shadows. 



He had married a girl who, though certainly not 

 a model wife, had some affection for him. Tsi's 

 father thought there might be a chance of getting 

 him to lead a decent life, and went to him. 



" Come ! " he said. " Bring your wife to my 

 house, and we will all live together, as we should. 

 Your brothers will welcome you. I will give you 

 food and lodging. Be content." 



