.."_
"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?'"
_"Mon Dieu!_ it is uncanny!" whispered Max. _"Brr!_ do you hear those
rats? I am wondering in what order we shall be admitted to the
'Scorpion's' presence, or if we shall see him together."
"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:
_"Chong-liou-chouay
Om mani padme hum."_
"The Buddhist formula," whispered Stuart. _"He_ is a real smoker.
Heavens! the reek is choking me!"
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.
Pages:
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204