there are three of the gang here! Did you particularly observe in which bunks they lay, doctor.
A voice from a bunk had commenced to sing monotonously.
'He is speaking from an opium-trance,' said Stuart softly. 'A native song: 'If a cup of wine is drunk, and I have drunk it, what of that?''
'He may come in here.'
'All the better.'
'Gimme 'nother pipe, Pidgin,' drawled a very drowsy voice from Bill Bean's corner.
Ah-Fang-Fu left his eternal arranging and rearranging of the cards and crossed the room. He took the opium-pipe from the fireman's limp fingers and returning to the box, refilled and lighted it. Max and Stuart watched him in silence until he had handed the second pipe to the man and returned to his chair.
'We must be very careful,' said Stuart. 'We do not know which are real smokers and which are not.'
Again there was a weird interruption. A Chinaman lying in one of the bunks began to chant in a monotonous far-away voice:
'The Buddhist formula,' whispered Stuart.
The chant was repeated, the words dying away into a long murmur. Ah-Fang-Fu continued to shuffle the cards. And presently Bill Bean's second pipe dropped from his fingers. His husky voice spoke almost inaudibly.
'I'm … old … Bill … Bean … I … '
A deep-noted siren hooted dimly.
'A steamer making for dock,' whispered Max.
Ah-Fang-Fu glanced slowly around. Then he stood up, raised the lamp from the table and made a tour of the bunks, shining the light in upon the faces of the occupants. Max watched him closely, hoping to learn in which bunks the members of 'The Scorpion's' group lay. But he was disappointed. Ah-Fang-Fu examined
Replacing the lamp on the box, he whistled softly; and:——
'Look!' breathed Max. 'The stair again!'
Stuart cautiously turned his eyes toward the open stair.
On the platform above stood a bent old hag whose witch-eyes were searching the place keenly! With a curiously lithe step, for all her age, she descended, and standing behind Ah-Fang-Fu tapped him on the shoulder and pointed to the outer door. He stood up and shuffled across, went up the four steps and unbarred the door.
He went out and closed the door.
'Something happens!' whispered Max.
A gong sounded.
'Ah!'
The old woman approached the matting curtain hung over a portion of the wall, raised it slightly in the centre—where it opened—and disappeared beyond.
'You see!' said Stuart excitedly.
'Yes! it is the audience-chamber of 'The Scorpion'!'
The ancient hag came out again, crossed to a bunk and touched its occupant, a Chinaman, with her hand. He immediately shot up and followed her. The two disappeared beyond the curtain.
'What shall we do,' said Stuart, 'if
'I shall throw open those curtains the moment I reach them, and present my pistol at the head of whoever is on the other side. You—
The old woman reappeared, looked slowly around and then held the curtains slightly apart to allow of the Chinaman's coming out. He saluted her by touching his head, lips and breast with his right hand, then passed up to the door communicating with the shop, which he opened, and went out.
His voice came, muffled:
'Fo-Hi!'
'Fo-Hi,' returned the high voice of Ah-Fang-Fu.
The outer door was opened and shut. The old woman went up and barred the inner door, then returned and stood by the matting curtain. The sound of the water below alone broke the silence. It was the hour of high tide.
'There goes the first fish into Dunbar's net!' whispered Max.
The gong sounded again.
Thereupon the old woman crossed to another bunk and conducted a brown-skinned Eastern into the hidden room. Immediately they had disappeared:
'As I pull the curtains aside,' continued Max rapidly, 'blow the whistle and run across and unbar the door… .'
So engrossed was he in giving these directions, and so engrossed was Stuart in listening to them, that neither detected a faint creak which proceeded from almost immediately behind them. This sound was occasioned by the slow and cautious opening of that sunken, heavy door near to which they lay—the door which communicated with the labyrinth of cellars. Inch by inch from the opening protruded the head of Ah-Fang-Fu!
'If the Chinaman offers any resistance,' Max went on, speaking very rapidly—
A moaning voice from one of the bunks came.
'A native adage,' whispered Stuart. 'He is dreaming. 'There is always meat in a kite's nest.''
The head of Ah-Fang-Fu vanished. A moment later the curtains opened again slightly and the old woman came out, ushering the brown man. He saluted her and unbarred the door, going out.
'Fo-Hi,' came dimly.
There was no definite answer—only the sound of a muttered colloquy; and suddenly the brown man returned and spoke to the old woman in a voice so low that his words were inaudible to the two attentive listeners in the distant corner.
'Ah!' whispered Max—'what now?'
'Shall we rush the curtain!' said Stuart.
'No!' Max grasped his arm—'wait! wait! See! he is going out. He has perhaps forgotten something. A second fish in the net.'
The Oriental went up the steps into the shop. The old woman closed and barred the door, then opened the matting curtain and disappeared within.
'I was right,' said Max.
But for once in his career he was wrong.
She was out again almost immediately and bending over a bunk close to the left of the masked opening. The occupant concealed in its shadow did not rise and follow her, however. She seemed to be speaking to him. Stuart and Max watched intently.
The head of Ah-Fang-Fu reappeared in the doorway behind them.
'Now is our time!' whispered Max tensely. 'As I rush for the curtains, you run to the shop door and get it