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Page 53
Having called at my chambers to obtain my revolver, I mounted an
eastward-bound motor-bus. The night, as I have already stated,
was exceptionally dark. There was no moon, and heavy clouds were
spread over the sky; so that the deserted East End streets
presented a sufficiently uninviting aspect, but one with which I
was by no means unfamiliar and which certainly in no way daunted
me.
Changing at Paul Harley's Chinatown base in Wade Street, I turned
my steps in the same direction as upon the preceding night; but
if my own will played no part in the matter, then decidedly
Providence truly guided me. Poetic justice is rare enough in
real life, yet I was destined to-night to witness swift
retribution overtaking a malefactor.
The by-ways which I had trodden were utterly deserted; I was far
from the lighted high road, and the only signs of human activity
that reached me came from the adjacent river; therefore, when
presently an outcry arose from somewhere on my left, for a moment
I really believed that my imagination was vividly reproducing the
episode of the night before!
A furious scuffle--between a European and an Asiatic--was in
progress not twenty yards away!
Realizing that such was indeed the case, and that I was not the
victim of hallucination, I advanced slowly in the direction of
the sounds, but my footsteps reechoed hollowly from wall to wall
of the narrow passage-way, and my coming brought the conflict to
a sudden and dramatic termination.
"Thought I wouldn't know yer ugly face, did yer?" yelled a
familiar voice. "No good squealin'--I got yer! I'd bust you up
if I could!" (a sound of furious blows and inarticulate
chattering) "but it ain't 'umanly possible to kill a Chink------"
I hurried forward toward the spot where two dim figures were
locked in deadly conflict.
"Take that to remember me by!" gasped the husky voice as I ran
up.
One of the figures collapsed in a heap upon the ground. The
other made off at a lumbering gait along a second and even
narrower passage branching at right angles from that in which the
scuffle had taken place.
The clatter of the heavy sea-boots died away in the distance. I
stood beside the fallen man, looking keenly about to right and
left; for an impression was strong upon me that another than I
had been witness of the scene--that a shadowy form had slunk back
furtively at my approach. But the night gave up no sound in
confirmation of this, and I could detect no sign of any lurker.
I stooped over the Chinaman (for a Chinaman it was) who lay at my
feet, and directed the ray of my pocket-lamp upon his yellow and
contorted countenance. I suppressed a cry of surprise and
horror.
Despite the human impossibility referred to by the missing
fireman, this particular Chinaman had joined the shades of his
ancestors. I think that final blow, which had felled him, had
brought his shaven skull in such violent contact with the wall
that he had died of the thundering concussion set up.
Kneeling there and looking into his upturned eyes, I became aware
that my position was not an enviable one, particularly since I
felt little disposed to set the law on the track of the real
culprit. For this man who now lay dead at my feet was doubtless
one of the pair who had attempted the life of the fireman of the
Jupiter.
That my seafaring acquaintance had designed to kill the Chinaman
I did not believe, despite his stormy words: the death had been
an accident, and (perhaps my morality was over-broad) I
considered the assault to have been justified.
Now my ideas led me further yet. The dead Chinaman wore a rough
blue coat, and gingerly, for I found the contact repulsive, I
inserted my hand into the inside pocket. Immediately my fingers
closed upon a familiar object--and I stood up, whistling
slightly, and dangling in my left hand the missing pigtail!
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