' You noted the words of Ah-Fang? _Ssh!"_
The old Chinaman returned with his curious shuffling walk, raising his
hand to beckon to them.
"Number one piece bunk, lo!" he chattered.
"Good enough," growled Stuart.
The two crossed and reclined upon the uncleanly mats.
"Make special loom," explained Ah-Fang-Fu. "Velly special chop!"
He passed from bunk to bunk, and presently came to a comatose Chinaman
from whose limp hand, which hung down upon the floor, the pipe had
dropped. This pipe Ah-Fang-Fu took from the smoker's fingers and
returning to the box upon which the tin lamp was standing began calmly
to load it.
"Good heavens!" muttered Stuart--"he is short of pipes! Pah! how the
place reeks!"
Ah-Fang-Fu busied himself with a tin of opium, the pipe which he had
taken from the sleeper, and another pipe--apparently the last of his
stock--which lay near the lamp. Igniting the two, he crossed and
handed them to Stuart and Max.
"Velly soon-lo!" he said and made a curious sign, touching his brow,
his lips and his breast in a manner resembling that of a Moslem.
Max repeated the gesture and then lay back upon his elbow, raising
the mouthpiece of the little pipe to his lips--but carefully avoiding
contact.
Ah-Fang-Fu shuffled back to the broken cane chair, from which he had
evidently arisen to admit his late visitors.
Inarticulate sounds proceeded from the bunks, breaking the sinister
silence which now descended upon the den.
Pages:
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198