United States or Ireland ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"Don't forget what I told you," he whispered. "Be cautious! be very cautious!..." Down the center of the room came a girl carrying the only ornamental object which thus far I had seen in the Joy-Shop; a large Oriental brass tray. She was a figure which must have formed a center of interest in any place, trebly so, then, in such a place as this.
My head was buzzing like a hive of bees, but I managed, aided by Weymouth, to struggle to my feet. Muffled sounds of shouting and scuffling reached me. Two men in the uniform of the Thames Police were carrying a limp body in at the low doorway communicating with the infernal Joy-Shop. "It's Fletcher," said Weymouth, noting the anxiety expressed in my face.
"Don't speak if you can help it," he said; "if you do, mumble any old jargon in any language you like, and throw in plenty of cursing!" He grasped me by the arm, and I found myself crossing the threshold of the Joy-Shop I found myself in a meanly furnished room no more than twelve feet square and very low ceiled, smelling strongly of paraffin oil.
His eyes shone like steel. "'The man with the limp," he said, and slowly rose to his feet "what do you know of the man with the limp?" Fletcher's face flushed slightly; his words had proved more dramatic than he had anticipated. "There's a place down Shadwell way," he replied, "of which, no doubt, you will have heard; it has no official title, but it is known to habitués as the Joy-Shop...."
The usefulness of such a haunt was evident enough, since it might conveniently be employed as a place of rendezvous for Orientals and furthermore enable the cunning Chinaman to establish relations with persons likely to prove of service to him. Formerly, he had used an East End opium den for this purpose, and, later, the resort known as the Joy-Shop.
The time for action was arrived we were to see behind the scenes of the Joy-Shop! Our chance to revenge poor Smith even if we could not save him. I became conscious of an inward and suppressed excitement; surreptitiously I felt the hilt of the Browning pistol in my pocket. The shadow of the dead Fu-Manchu seemed to be upon me. God! how I loathed and feared that memory!
"He was amongst the piles upholding the old wharf at the back of the Joy-Shop?" said Smith tersely, turning to the police officer in charge. "Exactly" was the reply. "The in-coming tide had jammed him right up under a cross-beam." "What time was that? "Well, at high tide last night. Hewson, returning with the ten o'clock boat, noticed the moonlight glittering upon the knife."
The Si-Fan score thus far, for unless the search now in progress brings it to light, we must conclude that they have the brass coffer." He was interrupted by a sudden loud crying of his name. "Mr. Nayland Smith!" came from somewhere within the Joy-Shop. "This way, sir!"
Now at last a little action became possible, and having seen my friend push open one of the gates and assist the old woman to enter, I crept rapidly across the crazy floor, found the doorway, and, with little noise, for I wore rubber-soled shoes, stole down the stairs into what had formerly been the reception-room of the Joy-Shop, the malodorous sanctum of the old Chinaman, John Ki.
But I was already outside, Fletcher following; and a moment later we were both in the cab and off into a maze of tortuous streets toward John Ki's Joy-Shop. With the coming of nightfall the rain had ceased, but the sky remained heavily overcast and the air was filled with clammy mist.
Word Of The Day