“Aw, let it slide for the time bein’,” I muttered. “We’d have to lay him out first before he’d let us go on, and he’s too thin to hit. We might bust him in half. Let it go, if he’s so plumb set on it. We got the whole world to fight in.”
“You’re gettin’ soft and sentimental,” snorted Bill. And with that he swaggered off in high disgust.
I eyed him morosely.
“Now he’ll probably think I was afraid to fight him,” I said gloomily. “And it’s all your fault.”
“Sorry, old man,” said Sir Peter. “I’d have liked to have seen the mill myself, by jove. But public duty comes first, you know. Come, forget about it and have a drink.”
“I ain’t a-goin’ to drink with you,” I said bitterly. “You done spoilt my fun and made me look like a coward.”
And disregarding his efforts to conciliate me, I shoved past him and wandered gloomily down the alley. I didn’t go back to the La Belle. I was ashamed to admit to Miss Worley that they wasn’t no fight. But later on I got to thinking about it and wondering what Bill told her in case he went back to her. It would be just like him to tell her I run out on him and refused to fight, I thought, or that he flattened me without getting his hair ruffled. He wasn’t above punching a wall or something and telling her he skinned them knuckles on my jaw.
So I decided to look Miss Worley up and explain the whole thing to her — also take her to a theater or something if she’d go. She was a very pretty girl, refined and educated — anybody could tell that — yet not too proud to talk with a ordinary sailorman. Them kind is few and far betweenst.
I asked a bar-keep where Tung Yin lived and he told me. “But,” he added, “you better keep away from Tung Yin. He’s a shady customer and he don’t like whites.”
“You’re nuts,” I said. “Any man which Miss Kit Worley works for is bound to be okay.”
“Be that as it may,” said the bar-keep. “The cops think that Tung Yin was some way mixed up in the big diamond theft.”
“What big diamond theft?” I said.
“Gee whiz,” he said. “Didn’t you hear about the big diamond theft last month?”
“Last month I was in Australia,” I said impatiently.
“Well,” he said, “somebody stole the Royal Crystal — that’s what they called the diamond account of a emperor of China once usin’ it to tell fortunes, like the gypsies use a crystal ball, y’know. Somebody stole it right outa the government museum. Doped the guards, hooked the stone and got clean away. Slickest thing I ever heard of in my life. That diamond’s worth a fortune. And some think that Tung Yin had a hand in it. Regular international ruckus. They got Sir Peter Brent, the big English detective, workin’ on the case now.”
“Well,” I said, “I ain’t interested. Only I know Tung Yin never stole it, because Miss Worley wouldn’t work for nobody but a gent.”
So I went to Tung Yin’s place. It was a whopping big house, kinda like a palace, off some distance from the main part of the city. I went in a ‘ricksha and got there just before sundown. The big house was set out by itself amongst groves of orange trees and cherry trees and the like, and I seen a airplane out in a open space that was fixed up like a landing field. I remembered that I’d heard tell that Tung Yin had a young Australian aviator named Clanry in his employ. I figgered likely that was his plane.
I started for the house and then got cold feet. I hadn’t never been in a rich Chinee’s dump before and I didn’t know how to go about it. I didn’t know whether you was supposed to go up and knock on the door and ask for Miss Kit Worley, or what. So I decided I’d cruise around a little and maybe I’d see her walking in the garden. I come up to the garden, which had a high wall around it, and I climbed up on the wall and looked over. They was lots of flowers and cherry trees and a fountain with a bronze dragon, and over near the back of the big house they was another low wall, kind of separating the house from the garden. And I seen a feminine figger pass through a small gate in this wall.
Taking a chance it was Miss Worley, I dropped into the garden, hastened forward amongst the cherry trees and flowers, and blundered through the gate into a kind of small court. Nobody was there, but I seen a door just closing in the house so I went right on through and come into a room furnished in the usual Chinese style, with tapestries and screens and silk cushions and them funny Chinese tea tables and things. A chorus of startled feminine squeals brung me up standing and I gawped about in confusion. Miss Worley wasn’t nowhere in sight. All I seen was three or four Chinese girls which looked at me like I was a sea serpent.
“What you do here?” asked one of them.
“I’m lookin’ for the governess,” I said, thinking that maybe these was Tung Yin’s nieces. Though, by golly, I never seen no girls which had less of the schoolgirl look about ‘em.
“Governor?” she said. “You crazee? Governor him live along Nanking.”
“Naw, naw,” I said. “Gover-ness, see? The young lady which governesses the big boy’s nieces — Tung Yin’s nieces.”
“You crazee,” she said decisively. “Tung Yin him got no fool nieces.”
“Say, listen,” I said. “We ain’t gettin’ nowhere. I can’t speak Chinee and you evidently can’t understand English. I’m lookin’ for Miss Kit Worley, see?”
“Ooooh!” she understood all right and looked at me with her slant eyes widened. They all got together and whispered while I got nervouser and nervouser. I didn’t like the look of things, somehow. Purty soon she said: “Mees Worley she not live along here no more. She gone.”
“Well,” I said vaguely, “I reckon I better be goin’.” I started for the door, but she grabbed me. “Wait,” she said. “You lose your head, suppose you go that way.”
“Huh?” I grunted, slightly shocked and most unpleasantly surprised. “What? I ain’t done nothin’.”
She made a warning gesture and turning to one of the other girls said: “Go fetch Yuen Tang.”
The other girl looked surprised: “Yuen Tang?” she said kind of dumb-like, like she didn’t understand. The first girl snapped something at her in Chinee and give her a disgusted push through the door. Then she turned to me.
“Tung Yin no like white devils snooping around,” she said with a shake of her head. “Suppose he find you here, he cut your head off — snick,” she said dramatically, jerking her finger acrost her throat.
I will admit cold sweat bust out on me.
“Great cats,” I said plaintively. “I thought this Tung Yin was a respectable merchant. I ain’t never heard he was a mysterious mandarin or a brigand or somethin’. Stand away from that door, sister. I’m makin’ tracks.”
Again she shook her head and laying a finger to her lips cautiously, she beckoned me to look through the door by which I’d entered. The gate opening into the garden from the courtyard was partly open.
What I seen made my hair stand up. It was nearly dark. The garden looked shadowy and mysterious, but it was still light enough for me to make out the figgers of five big coolies sneaking along with long curved knives in their hands.
“They look for you,” whispered the girl. “Tung Yin fear spies. They know somebody climb the wall. Wait, we hide you.”
They grabbed me and pushed me into a kind of closet and shut the door, leaving me in total darkness. How long I stood there sweating with fear and nervousness, I never knowed. I couldn’t hear much in there and what I did hear was muffled, but it seemed like they was a lot of whispering and muttering going on through the house. Once I heard a kind of galloping like a lot of men running, then they was some howls and what sounded like a voice swearing in English.
Then at last the door opened. A Chinaman in the garb of a servant looked in and I was about to bust him one, when I seen the Chinese girl looking over his shoulder.
“Come out cautiously,” he said, in his hissing English. “I am your friend and would aid you to escape, but if you do not follow my directions exactly, you will not live to see the sunrise. Tun
g Yin will butcher you.”
“Holy cats,” I said vaguely. “What’s he got it in for me for? I ain’t done nothin’.”
“He mistrusts all men,” said the Chinaman. “I am Yuen Tang and I hate his evil ways, though circumstances have forced me to do his bidding. Come.”
That was a nice mess for a honest seaman to get into, hey? I followed Yuen Tang and the girl, sweating profusely, and they led me through long, deserted corridors and finally stopped before a heavy barred door.
“Through this door lies freedom,” hissed Yuen Tang. “To escape from the house of Tung Yin you must cross the chamber which lies beyond this portal. Once through, you will come to an outer door and liberty. Here.” He shoved a small but wicked looking pistol into my hand.
“What’s that for?” I asked nervously, recoiling. “I don’t like them things.”
“You may have to shoot your way through,” he whispered. “No man knows the guile of Tung Yin. In the darkness of the chamber he may come upon you with murder in his hand.”
“Oh gosh,” I gasped wildly. “Ain’t they no other way out?”
“None other,” said Yuen Tang. “You must take your chance.”
I felt like my legs was plumb turning to taller. And then I got mad. Here was me, a peaceful, law-abiding sailorman, being hounded and threatened by a blame yellow-belly I hadn’t never even seen.
“Gimme that gat,” I growled. “I ain’t never used nothin’ but my fists in a fray, but I ain’t goin’ to let no Chinee carve me up if I can help it.”
“Good,” purred Yuen Tang. “Take the gun and go swiftly. If you hear a sound in the darkness, shoot quick and straight.”
So, shoving the gun into my sweaty fingers, him and the girl opened the door, pushed me through and shut the door behind me. I turned quick and pushed at it. They’d barred it on the other side and I could of swore I heard a sort of low snicker.
I strained my eyes trying to see something. It was as dark as anything. I couldn’t see nothing nor hear nothing. I started groping my way forward, then stopped short. Somewhere I heard a door open stealthily. I started sweating. I couldn’t see nothing at all, but I heard the door close again, a bolt slid softly into place and I had the uncanny sensation that they was somebody in that dark room with me.
Cussing fiercely to myself because my hand shook so, I poked the gun out ahead of me and waited. A stealthy sound came to me from the other side of the chamber and I pulled the trigger wildly. A flash of fire stabbed back at me and I heard the lead sing past my ear as I ducked wildly. I was firing blindly, as fast as I could jerk the trigger, figgering on kind of swamping him with the amount of lead I was throwing his way. And he was shooting back just as fast. I seen the flash spitting in a continual stream of fire and the air was full of lead, from the sound. I heard the bullets sing past my ears so close they nearly combed my hair, and spat on the wall behind me. My hair stood straight up, but I kept on jerking the trigger till the gun was empty and no answering shots came.
Aha, I thought, straightening up. I’ve got him. And at that instant, to my rage and amazement, there sounded a metallic click from the darkness. It was incredible I should miss all them shots, even in the dark. But it must be so, I thought wrathfully. He wasn’t laying on the floor full of lead; his gun was empty too. I knowed that sound was the hammer snapping on a empty shell.
And I got real mad. I seen red. I throwed away the gun and, cussing silently, got on my all-fours and began to crawl stealthily but rapidly acrost the floor. If he had a knife, this mode of attack would give me some advantage.
That was a blame big chamber. I judge I’d traversed maybe half the distance across it when my head come into violent contact with what I instinctively realized was a human skull. My opponent had got the same idee I had. Instantly we throwed ourselves ferociously on each other and there began a most desperate battle in the dark. My unseen foe didn’t seem to have no knife, but he was a bearcat in action. I was doing my best, slugging, kicking, rassling and ever and anon sinking my fangs into his hide, but I never see the Chinaman that could fight like this ‘un fought. I never seen one which could use his fists, but this ‘un could.
I heard ’em swish past my head in the dark and purty soon I stopped one of them fists with my nose. Whilst I was trying to shake the blood and stars outa my eyes, my raging opponent clamped his teeth in my ear and set back. With a maddened roar, I hooked him in the belly with such heartiness that he let go with a gasp and curled up like a angle-worm. I then climbed atop of him and set to work punching him into a pulp, but he come to hisself under my very fists, as it were, pitched me off and got a scissors hold that nearly caved my ribs in.
Gasping for breath, I groped around and having found one of his feet, got a toe-hold and started twisting it off. He give a ear- piercing and bloodthirsty yell and jarred me loose with a terrific kick in the neck.
We arose and fanned the air with wild swings, trying to find each other in the dark. After nearly throwing our arms out of place missing haymakers, we abandoned this futile and aimless mode of combat and having stumbled into each other, we got each other by the neck with our lefts and hammered away with our rights.
A minute or so of this satisfied my antagonist, who, after a vain attempt to find my right and tie it up, throwed hisself blindly and bodily at me. We went to the floor together. I got a strangle hold on him and soon had him gurgling spasmodically. A chance swat on the jaw jarred me loose, but I come back with a blind swing that by pure chance crunched solidly into his mouth. Again we locked horns and tumbled about on the floor.
“Dern your yeller hide,” said the Chinaman between gasps. “You’re the toughest Chinee I ever fit in my life, but I’ll get you yet!”
“Bill McGlory,” I said in disgust. “What you doin’ here?”
“By golly,” said he. “If I didn’t know you was Tung Yin, I’d swear you was Steve Costigan.”
“I am Steve Costigan, you numb-skull,” I said impatiently, hauling him to his feet.
“Well, gee whiz,” he said. “Them girls told me I might have to shoot Tung Yin to make my getaway, but they didn’t say nothin’ about you. Where is the big shot?”
“How should I know?” I snapped. “Yuen Tang and a girl told me Tung Yin was goin’ to chop my head off. And they gimme a gun and pushed me in here. What you doin’ anyway?”
“I come here to see Miss Worley,” he said. “She’d done left when I went back to the La Belle. I looked around the streets for her, then I decided I’d come out to Tung Yin’s and see her.”
“And who told you you could come callin’ on her?” I snarled.
“Well,” he said smugly, “anybody could see that girl had fell for me. As far as that goes, who told you to come chasin’ after her?”
“That’s entirely different,” I growled. “Go ahead with your story.”
“Well,” he said, “I come and knocked on the door and a Chinaman opened it and I asked for Miss Worley and he slammed the door in my face. That made me mad, so I prowled around and found a gate unlocked in the garden wall and come in, hopin’ to find her in the garden. But a gang of tough lookin’ coolies spotted me and though I tried to explain my peaceful intentions, they got hard and started wavin’ knives around.
“Well, Steve, you know me. I’m a peaceful man but I ain’t goin’ be tromped on. I got rights, by golly. I hauled off and knocked the biggest one as cold as a wedge. Then I lit out and they run me clean through the garden. Every time I made for the wall, they headed me off, so I run through the courtyard into the house and smack into Tung Yin hisself. I knowed him by sight, you see. He had a golden pipe-case which he was lookin’ at like he thought it was a million dollars or somethin’. When he seen me, he quick stuck it in his shirt and give a yelp like he was stabbed.
“I tried to explain, but he started yelling to the coolies in Chinese and they bust in after me. I run through a door ahead of ’em and slammed it in their faces and bolted it, and whilst I was holding it on on
e side and they was tryin’ to kick it down on the other side, up come a Chinagirl which told me in broken English that she’d help me, and she hid me in a closet. Purty soon her and a coolie come and said that Tung Yin was huntin’ me in another part of the house, and that they’d help me escape. So they took me to a door and gimme a gun and said if I could get through the room I’d be safe. Then they shoved me in here and bolted the door behind me. The next thing I knowed, bullets was singin’ past my ears like a swarm of bees. You sure are a rotten shot, Steve.”
“You ain’t so blamed hot yourself,” I sniffed. “Anyway, it looks to me like we been took plenty, and you sure are lucky to be alive. For some reason or other Tung Yin wanted to get rid of us and he seen a good way to do it without no risk to his own hide, by gyppin’ us into bumpin’ each other off. Wait, though — looks to me like that mutt Yuen Tang engineered this deal. Maybe Tung Yin didn’t know nothin’ about it.”
“Well, anyway,” said Bill, “they’s somethin’ crooked goin’ on here that these Chinese don’t want known. They think we’re government spies, I betcha.”
“Well, let’s get outa here,” I said.
“I bet they think we’re both dead,” said Bill. “They told me these walls was sound-proof. I bet they use this for a regular murder room. I been hearin’ a lot of dark tales about Tung Yin. I’m surprised a nice girl like Miss Worley would work for him.”
“Aw,” I said, “we musta misunderstood her. She don’t work here. The Chinagirls told me so. He ain’t got no nieces. It musta been somebody else.”
“Well let’s get out and argy later,” Bill said. “Come on, let’s feel around and find a door.”
“Well,” I said, “what good’ll that do? The doors is bolted, ain’t they?”
“Well, my gosh,” he said, “can’t we bust ’em down? Gee whiz, you’d stop to argy if they was goin’ to shoot you.”
We felt around and located the walls and we hadn’t been groping long before I found what I knowed was bound to be a door. I told Bill and he come feeling his way along the wall. Then I heard something else.
Delphi Works of Robert E. Howard (Illustrated) (Series Four) Page 186