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Updated: May 21, 2025
By which it will be seen that Mr. Morton P. Adams, C. E. M. I. T. Boston, had something yet to learn in the matter of practical field work. By the time Ah Foo had served him his solitary supper in the dinkey he had quite forgotten the incident of the mysterious placer miners. Worse than this, it had never occurred to him to connect their movements with the Rajah's plan of campaign.
There was something about this affair that convinced Ling Foo that his noon visitor would pay high for two reasons: one, to recover the glass beads; the other, to keep out of the reach of the police. Ling Foo considered that he was playing his advantage honestly. He hadn't robbed or murdered anybody. A business deal had slipped into his hands and it was only logical to make the most of it.
Blood! His Oriental mind groped hopelessly. Blood! He could make nothing of it. A murderous quarrel over such as these! For a long time Ling Foo sat on his stool, the image of Buddha contemplating the way. Outside the storm carried on vigorously, sending rattles into casements and shudders into doors. The wifely needle, a thread of silver fire, shuttled back and forth in the heavy brocade silk.
Oh the fun of such a meeting! the feast of reason, and the flow of Ferintosh, I and the rich stories, ay, fatter than ever I would venture on, and the cricket like chirps of laughter of the probationer, and the loud independent guffaw of the placed minister, and the sly innuendos about the land round the Jordan, when our freens get half foo. Oh how I honour a Gaudeamus!
The royal jade did not catch the light so strongly as the copy; the touch of human warmth had slightly dulled the stone. Ling Foo transferred the copy to a purse he wore attached to his belt under the blue jacket. The young woman would never be able to resist the jade. She would return the glass instantly. A thousand gold, less the cost of the jade! Good business!
And then Jimmie Dale crept out of the shed toward Foo Sen's, and crept into the dark areaway, and, as he had come, by alleyways and lanes, and through yards, and by ill-lighted, unfrequented streets, returned again to the Sanctuary alone.
"At five in the lobby of the Astor House. Good day," concluded Ling Foo, fingering the buttons on his counting rack. Cunningham limped out into the cold sunshine. Ling Foo shook his head. So like a boy's, that face! He shuddered slightly. He knew that a savage devil lay ready behind that handsome mask he had seen it last night. But five hundred gold for a string of glass beads!
Five hundred dollars in American gold for a string of glass beads! He set the blackwood box on a stand, opened it, and spread out jade earrings, rings, fobs, bracelets, strings. The girl's eagerness caused Ling Foo to sigh with relief. It would be easy. "I warned you that I should not buy anything," said Jane, ruefully. "But even if I had the money I would not buy this kind of a jade necklace.
"My dear captain, you don't know me at all," interrupted Cunningham. "Have you got the beads?" "I have not. I doubt if you will ever lay eyes on them again." Something flashed across the handsome face. Ling Foo alone recognized it. He had glimpsed it, this expression, outside his window the night before.
But I got in without being robbed, which I am very glad of, for there is a large registered mail on this run. "Now I will have Loo Foo fetch me some supper and retire, for I am about played out, and you can search the two men and let me know the result in the morning. But one minute how is my patient?" "Bodily all right, but his mind, as you said would be the case, is gone." "Poor fellow!
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