Back Aa

Golden Chimney: A Boy's Mine

Close

[Pg 180] <h2>CHAPTER XIII THE OPIUM RAID</h2> Although Ben had been eager to go in search of his strange informer, yet when he set forth he almost regretted not having brought a companion. He knew that the address given must be in the heart of the Chinese quarter, and, like most San Francisco boys, he knew something of that dangerous locality. He had heard of the mysterious murders which at times were of almost daily occurrence; of the sick thrust into the street to die; and of the opium dens, where white people were hidden. He had heard, too, of the fierce dogs which were kept on the roofs of the houses; of secret passages leading from house to house, until the place was a vast honeycomb of runways, through which[Pg 181] the Chinese slipped like rats in their holes. Chinatown may present a peaceful appearance in the daytime, but at night, with the weird effects caused by the many-colored lanterns, the inky recesses of the doorways, the depths of underground burrows trod by velvet-footed shadows, it is transformed into a region to strike terror to the bravest. Perhaps a thought of these dangers induced Ben to choose broad daylight for his quest. He found the address easily enough—a house of several stories that in some earlier period of the city had been an imposing residence, but was now used by the Chinese for a fruit-canning factory. The casing of the door was plastered with gaudy bills covered with Chinese characters, and through the broken window-panes could be seen countless piles of cans. A short flight of steps led downward from the sidewalk to a basement [Pg 182]entrance, and as Ben approached he saw a Chinese leaning against the iron balustrade. He recognized Ng Quong, with a feeling of relief that he should not be obliged to enter the house. <div class="center"> <ANTIMG src="images/i189.jpg" alt="As Ben approached" /></div> “As Ben approached he saw Ng Quong leaning against the iron balustrade.” In this he was mistaken, for the man would not talk upon the public street, where the very gutters might have ears. He conducted Ben through several corridors and stairways to an upper room where a number of Chinese were seated at a repast of rice and tea. Ben did not like to broach the object of his visit before such an audience, and waited until the meal was finished and the others had departed. “You wish to rent part of your house?” his host blandly inquired. “I haven’t any house to rent at present,” Ben replied. “I want to find out what you mean when you say Mr. Fish make me plenty trouble—you sabe?” The language used by the man was a rebuke. [Pg 183] “Ah, that man make you trouble already?” “Yes, trouble enough. Come, tell me what you know about him?” “For what object should I tell you? Perhaps, it might make me trouble.” “You say when I have trouble come and see you. I have trouble,—I come. You tell me what you know,—I give you ten dollars.” The Chinese regarded him with a sphinx-like stare. “O, ten dollars is not much money to me,” he remarked, indifferently. “I like to rent from you; that’s all. On that day I speak to you I go with the crowd to see what you do. I hear Mr. Fish talk to old man.” “Old man with a big gray hat and a cane?” Ben eagerly inquired. “Yes. I suppose those men think I not understand much English, for they not pay much attention to me. Mr. Fish say to old man that it too bad to lose so much money. They mean your[Pg 184] gold—they watch it. Then they talk about a lease; and old man say it not good any more. Mr. Fish say he will fix book at City Hall, then stop you and work for gold himself. He say he will give the old man some.” “I can’t understand,” said Ben, “why, if the lease has expired, he should need to fix the record? Did he say anything else?” “No; that’s all I hear.” “Well, that’s helped me some, perhaps. Here’s your ten dollars.” Ben paid him the money with some regret. It seemed a good deal for the information; still it might be a clue to ravel the tangle. Suddenly there was a loud knock at the door, followed by a noisy pounding. Ben had not noticed that the door had been locked after him, and he turned to Ng Quong in surprise. The Chinese did not respond to the summons, but hurried with an ashen[Pg 185] face through the inner door, which he closed and locked behind him. Ben heard some heavy bolts shot into place and realized that he was in a very unpleasant position. The pounding increased, and he saw that the door could not withstand the assault much longer. Alone in a locked room, into which the police were forcing an entrance! Suddenly, it flashed into his head that his visit to the house might have been noticed; that his connection with the opium found at the Works might have strengthened the suspicions of the police and caused the raid. If this were the case, he knew it was better for him to have remained where he was than to have followed the Chinaman, even if he had been given the opportunity. In a few moments the door gave way with a crash and two policemen and several Customs officials burst into the room. Ben recognized one of the men who had been stationed to watch the Works. [Pg 186] “O, it’s you, is it?” the man triumphantly exclaimed. “They thought you were too innocent-looking to be in with the gang; but I knew better all the time! We’ve caught you now.” “Caught me!” Ben indignantly repeated. “At what, I’d like to know! I came here to get some information from the proprietor of this fruit-canning factory.” “Information! Fruit factory!” the man sneered. “That’s a likely story! This place has been under suspicion for some time as being one of the biggest opium-dens and smuggler’s storehouses in town.” During this conversation the other men had turned everything in the room topsy-turvy. They found nothing to reward their search in the front room, and turned their attention to the door which led to the inner room. It took some little time to demolish this, and when at length they gained entrance not[Pg 187] a Chinese was to be found. One inmate they dragged forth from one of the rooms; but as there was no evidence against him, no charge could be preferred. Ben took him by the arm. “Come home, Syd,” he said. “It’s all right,—I haven’t told a soul.” They pushed their way through the curious crowd which had invaded the house. When they were quite away from the neighborhood, Sydney broke down. “You’re mighty good to me, Ben,—I don’t deserve it!” “It’s nothing at all,” Ben replied. “Isn’t your good name worth a little forbearance from one who’s known you all your life? How’d you come to be in that place?” he sharply questioned. “I didn’t know where else to hide. I was afraid I’d killed you and I got Ng Quong to let me stay there and make out some bills and accounts for him.” [Pg 188] “Then, you’ve earned your keep—honestly?” Syd looked him squarely in the face. “Yes,” he said. Ben gave a sigh of relief. “It might have made a fuss,” he remarked. “Why,—did they try to find me?” “No; because your mother said she felt sure you had gone to San Jose.” “To San Jose?” Syd repeated in surprise. After a pause he added, “Mothers are queer—sometimes.” Ben did not reply, for he knew that Syd thought that his mother suspected the truth. “I meant to venture out to-night, to try to find out how you were and give you your gold,” Syd continued. “Here it is.” He held out the vial. “I hope I’ll never pass such a week of torture again!” “It has been a mean experience for us both,” Ben replied as he took the vial, “but maybe it’s done us both[Pg 189] good. I’ll keep a nugget or a lump out of this,” he held up the vial containing the amalgam, “for the scarf-pin I promised you once.” “No, thank you, Ben; I’d rather not take it,” Syd replied. “Just as you say,” Ben put out his hand, for they had reached the foot of the hill. Syd took the proffered hand with such a hearty grasp that Ben felt that the experience had made them better friends than they had ever been. “That’s over, I’m thankful to say,” said Ben to himself, as he rapidly walked down the street. “And now for Mr. Hale.” <hr /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

1 of 2

2 of 2