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Rohmer, Sax, 1883-1959

"Tales of Chinatown"

You
done me a good turn to-night, mate; I'm doing you one. 'Ere's
the bloody pigtail, 'ere's my empty mug. Fill the mug and the
pigtail's yours. It's good for a quid at the dock gates any
day!"
My suspicions vanished; my interest arose to boiling point. I
refilled my acquaintance's mug, pressed a sovereign upon him (in
honesty I must confess that he was loath to take it), and
departed with the pigtail coiled neatly in an inner pocket of my
jacket. I entered the house in Wade Street by the side door, and
half an hour later let myself out by the front door, having cast
off my dockland disguise.


II
HOW I LOST IT

It was not until the following evening that I found leisure to
examine my strange acquisition, for affairs of more immediate
importance engrossed my attention. But at about ten o'clock I
seated myself at my table, lighted the lamp, and taking out the
pigtail from the table drawer, placed it on the blotting-pad and
began to examine it with the greatest curiosity, for few Chinese
affect the pigtail nowadays.
I had scarcely commenced my examination, however, when it was
dramatically interrupted. The door bell commenced to ring
jerkily. I stood up, and as I did so the ringing ceased and in
its place came a muffled beating on the door.


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