"
Stuart was about to speak when Gaston Max furtively grasped his arm.
"Ssh!" he whispered. "Do not move, but look ... at the top of the
stair!"
Stuart turned his eyes. On the platform at the head of the stairs a
Hindu was standing!
"Chunda Lal!" whispered Max. "Prepare for--anything!"
"Chunda Lal descended slowly. Ah-Fang-Fu continued to play Patience.
The Hindu stood behind him and began to speak in a voice of subdued
fervour and with soft Hindu modulations.
"Why do you allow them, strangers, coming here to-night!"
Ah-Fang-Fu continued complacently to arrange the cards.
"S'pose hab gotchee pidgin allee samee Chunda Lal hab got? Fo-Hi no
catchee buy bled and cheese for Ah-Fang-Fu. He"--nodding casually in
the direction of Bill Bean--"plitty soon all blissful."
"Be very careful, Ah-Fang-Fu," said Chunda Lal tensely. He lowered
his voice. "Do you forget so soon what happen last week?"
"No sabby."
"Some one comes here--we do not know how close he comes; perhaps he
comes in--and he is of the _police."_
Ah-Fang-Fu shuffled uneasily in his chair.
"No police chop for Pidgin!" he muttered. "Same feller tumble in
liver?"
"He is killed--yes; but suppose they find the writing he has made!
Suppose he has written that it is _here_ people meet together?"
"Makee chit tell my name? Muchee hard luck! Number one police chop."
"You say Fo-Hi not buying you bread and cheese. Perhaps it is Fo-Hi
that save you from hanging!"
Ah-Fang-Fu hugged himself.
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