Hi Wing Ho started nervously, exhibiting the first symptoms of
alarm which I had perceived in him. My mind was made up in an
instant. I took my revolver from the drawer and covered him.
"Be good enough to open the door, Hi Wing Ho," I said coldly.
He shrank from me, pouring forth voluble protestations.
"Open the door!"
I clenched my left fist and advanced upon him. He scuttled away
with his odd Chinese gait and threw open the door. Standing
before me I saw my friend Detective Sergeant Durham, and with him
a remarkably tall and very large-boned man whose square-jawed
face was deeply tanned and whose aspect was dourly Scottish.
When the piercing eyes of this stranger rested upon Hi Wing Ho an
expression which I shall never forget entered into them; an
expression coldly murderous. As for the Chinaman, he literally
crumpled up.
"You rat!" roared the stranger.
Taking one long stride he stooped upon the Chinaman, seized him
by the back of the neck as a terrier might seize a rat, and
lifted him to his feet.
"The mystery of the pigtail, Mr. Knox," said the detective, "is
solved at last."
"Have ye got it?" demanded the Scotsman, turning to me, but
without releasing his hold upon the neck of Hi Wing Ho.
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