The Ragged Edge Part 11
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The brilliant suns.h.i.+ne poured through the window, effecting an oblong block of mote-swimming light. In the midst of this light stood a young woman. To O'Higgins--for all his sordid business he was not insensible to beauty--to O'Higgins she appeared to have entered the room with the light. Above her head was an aura of white fire. The suns.h.i.+ne broke across each shoulder, one lance striking the yellow face of a Chinaman, queueless and dressed in European clothes, the other lance falling squarely upon the face of the man he had journeyed thirteen thousand miles to find. He recognized the face instantly.
There came to O'Higgins the discouraging knowledge that upon the heels of a wonderful chase--blindman's buff in the dark--would come a stretch of dull inaction. He would have to sit down here in Canton and wait, perhaps for weeks. Certainly he could not move now other than to announce the fact that he had found his man.
"I beg pardon," he said. "Got the rooms mixed."
The young woman laid a finger on her lips, cautioning O'Higgins to silence. The detective backed out slowly and closed the door without sound.
Outside in the hall he paused and thoughtfully stroked his smooth blue chin. As he understood it, folks saw in two or three days all there was to see of Canton. After the sights he would have to twiddle his thumbs until the joints cracked. All at once he saw a way out of the threatening doldrums. Some trustworthy Chinaman to watch, for a small bribe, while he, James Boyle O'Higgins, enjoyed himself in Hong-Kong, seeing the spring races, the boxing matches, and hobn.o.bbing with Yankee sailors. Canton was something like a blind alley; unless you were native, you couldn't get anywhere except by returning to Hong-Kong and starting afresh.
Satisfied that he had solved his difficulty, he proceeded to his room. At nine-thirty he climbed into the chair and signified to Ah c.u.m that he was ready.
"You speak English better than I do," said O'Higgins, as the coolies jogged across the bridge toward the gate. "Where did you pick it up?"
"I believe I told you; at Yale."
O'Higgins laughed. "I'd forgotten. But that explains everything."
"Everything." It was not uttered interrogatively; rather as though Ah c.u.m did not like the significance of the word and was turning it over and about in speculation.
"Ye-ah," said O'Higgins, jovially. "Why you pretended not to recognize the photograph of the young fellow you toted around these diggings all day yesterday."
Many wrinkles appeared at the corners of Ah c.u.m's slant eyes--as if the sun hurt--but the rest of his face remained as pa.s.sive as a graven Buddha's.
CHAPTER X
Ah c.u.m was himself puzzled. Why hadn't he admitted that he recognized the photograph? What instinct had impelled him swiftly to a.s.sume his Oriental mask?
"Why?" asked O'Higgins. "What's the particular dope?"
"If I told you, you would laugh," answered Ah c.u.m, gravely.
"No; I don't think I'd laugh. You never saw him before yesterday.
Why should you want to s.h.i.+eld him?"
"I really don't know."
"Because he said he was a Yale man?"
"That might be it."
"Treated you like a white man there, did they?"
"Like a gentleman."
"All right. I had that coming. I didn't think. But, holy smoke!--the Yale spirit in...."
"A Chinaman. I wonder. I spent many happy days there. Perhaps it was the recollection of those happy days. You are a detective?"
"Yes. I have come thirteen thousand miles for this young fellow; I'm ready to go galloping thirteen thousand more."
"You have extradition papers?"
"What sort of a detective do you think I am?" countered O'Higgins.
"Then his case is hopeless."
"Absolutely."
"I'm sorry. He does not look the criminal."
"That's the way it goes. You never can tell." There was a pause.
"They tell me over here that the average Chinaman is honest."
Ah c.u.m shrugged. "Yes?"
"And that when they give their word, they never break it."
O'Higgins had an idea in regard to Ah c.u.m.
"Your tone suggests something marvellous in the fact," replied Ah c.u.m, ironically. "Why shouldn't a Chinaman be honest? Ah, yes; I know. Most of you Americans pattern all Chinese upon those who fill a little corner in New York. In fiction you make the Chinese secretive, criminal, and terrible--or comic. I am an educated Chinese, and I resent the imputations against my race. You Americans laugh at our custom of honouring our ancestors, our many-times great grandfathers. On the other hand, you seldom revere your immediate grandfather, unless he has promised to leave you some money."
"Bull's eye!" piped O'Higgins.
"Of course, there is a criminal element, but the percentage is no larger than that in America or Europe. Why don't you try to find out how the every-day Chinese lives, how he treats his family, what his normal habits are, his hopes, his ambitions? Why don't you come to China as I went to America--with an open mind?"
"You're on," said O'Higgins, briskly. "I'll engage you for four days. To-day is for the sights; the other three days--lessons.
How's that strike you?"
"Very well, sir. At least I can give you a glimmer." A smile broke the set of Ah c.u.m's lips. "I'll take you into a Chinese home. We are very poor, but manage to squeeze a little happiness out of each day."
"And I promise that all you tell me and show me will sink in,"
replied O'Higgins, frankly interested. "I'm a detective; my ears and eyes have been trained to absorb all I see and all I hear. When I absorb a fact, my brain weighs the fact carefully and stores it away. You fooled me this morning; but I overheard two old maids talking about you and the young man."
"What has he done?"
"What did he have to drink over here last night?"
"Not even water. No doubt he has been drinking for days without eating substantially, and his heart gave out."
"What happened?"
Ah c.u.m recounted the story of the sing-song girl. "I had to give in to him. You know how stubborn they get."
"Surest thing you know. Bought the freedom of a sing-song girl; and all the while you knew you'd have to tote the girl back. But the Yale spirit!"
Ah c.u.m laughed.
The Ragged Edge Part 11
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The Ragged Edge Part 11 summary
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