"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.
Pages:
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148