Beggars' Gold begins: In New York, toward the end of an afternoon in the autumn of 1894, through the strident hubbub, the jostling, nervous rush of the crowds pouring into the old Grand Central Station, came two figures so incongruous that even in that whirling haste they drew curious glances. One was a large, heavy, young man of about twenty-eight, an American. The other, who barely reached to his waist, was a stout, little Chinese boy, in a padded coat of dark, blue silk, a black cap with a big, red button, blue trousers and white stockings.