THE CHINAMAN'S SHOP
Bill Bigs met a good many Chinamen, and had dealings with them, always
finding them keen business fellows, moderately honest, though some were
arrant rogues.
He went out of the coffee house to look round, and saw the fat Chinaman
still standing in his doorway like a statue, as though he had not moved
since they saw him before entering the house.
The name on the shop was Lin Soo. Probably this was the name of the man
at the door; at any rate something prompted Bill to cross the road and
look in at the shop window. He saw three tea chests, which he guessed
were empty, a couple of Chinese bowls, a vase with strange hideous
dragons painted or burnt on, an ivory-handled stick, a hat, a pile of
chop-sticks, a bundle of red papers, and a cat slumbering serenely
among the miscellaneous collection.
"Is the cat for sale?" he asked the man.
The Chinaman smiled.
"Not for sale. A good cat; he catchee mice, cockroaches."
"I didn't know there were any mice here."
"He catchee them if they were here," grinned the man.
"Your name is Lin Soo?"
The Chinaman nodded.
"You speak very good English," said Bill.
"Been in Sydney years," he replied.
"And made a heap of money," said Bill.
"No. Chinaman no chance with the white man," said Lin solemnly.
Bill laughed.
"You yellow heathen, I know better than that. Are you a tea dealer?"
Lin Soo nodded; it was a habit, and when he did so his cheeks flapped
and his eyelids fell up and down like trap doors.
"Sell me half a pound of good tea," said Bill.
Lin Soo turned and walked into the shop. Bill followed. He did not want
any tea, and Lin Soo knew it.
The Chinaman went behind the counter, leaning on it with his elbows.
"What do you want?" he asked.
"Tea."
Lin Soo grunted.
"You no fool," he said.
Bill laughed.
"How do you know?"
"You want no tea."
"What do I want?"
Lin Soo's head wagged again.
"Guess," said Bill.
"Give it up," replied Lin.
"Why did you leer at the girl we had with us? You frightened her, you
oily beast," said Bill.
Lin Soo started back. This was evidently unexpected, and Bill was a
formidable fellow to tackle.
Lin Soo protested he had not stared at her. Lots of silly women were
frightened at Chinamen--why he didn't know. They had no cause to be.
"They have every cause," said Bill. "Chinamen have ruined many white
women. Some of you yellow dogs buy and sell our girls, and trade them to
human beasts, who disgrace their colour. They're worse than you
fellows."
"Much worse," agreed Lin. "You know about it?"
"About what?"
"Trading in white girls."
"Yes, you scoundrel. I expect you've been at it."
Lin Soo protested. He was a good Chinaman,--not one of that sort.
Bill noticed the leer in his eyes, and concluded he was a deep-dyed
rogue.
"Have you ever been out West?" he asked out of curiosity.
Lin Soo said he had. A few years ago he had business in Bourke.
Bill became interested. What took him to Bourke?
Dealings with a big man, a man of money. He did not live at Bourke, but
he met him, Lin Soo, there.
"What sort of dealings?" queried Bill.
Lin Soo would not disclose them.
Bill questioned him for some time, and discovered that he might smoke
opium there if he wished; also that he might gamble for a considerable
sum if he so desired.
He left the shop, wondering what had induced him to waste his time
there.
Lin Soo watched him go up the street, scowled after him, called him bad
names and cursed him in some horrible guttural way.
"You sneaking round me," he said. "Better take care. Lin Soo stand no
fool play. Me stare at white woman! Why not? Me had dealings with many
white women. Business in Bourke with what you call squatter and white
woman. Tell him? Not muchy!"
Bill walked into Pitt Street. When he came to the corner of Market
Street he stopped and stared.
That looks uncommonly like Craig Bellshaw, he thought.
The man he had seen turned round and came towards him. It was Bellshaw.
He saw Bill Bigs and recognised him.
"You here, Bigs? What brings you to Sydney?"
"I've sold out."
"Have you? Tired of Boonara, eh?"
"It's hardly a paradise as you know, and I got a good price for the
place, so I thought I'd quit."
"I expect you've knocked up a nice little pile out of the natives, the
fencers, and my men, shearers, and so on. I had a nip or two at your
shanty. I can taste it yet. What horrible stuff you sold," said Craig.
"No worse than others sell. No worse than the man who bought me out will
sell."
"Who bought you out?"
"Don't you know?"
"How should I?"
"Garry Backham. He paid cash down, too. I wonder where he came by it? I
don't suppose you've been over liberal with him," said Bill. He watched
Bellshaw as he spoke, and the squatter returned his glance without a
flicker.
"Garry's bought you out? I wondered why he wanted to leave me," replied
Bellshaw.
He's lying, thought Bill, and wondered why.
"He'll not find it all profit," said Bill.
Bellshaw laughed.
"I don't expect he will," he agreed. "Who's there now looking after the
place?"
"He is."
"You mean he's left Mintaro and gone to Boonara?"
"That's about it. He was in the house when I came away."
"The scoundrel. He's neglected my interests. He shall pay for it. He'd
no business to leave Mintaro until I returned."
"I expect Mintaro will be all right. You've plenty of hands there."
Bellshaw laughed again.
"I daresay they'll pull through somehow," he said.
When Craig Bellshaw left him Bill went back to the coffee house, and
told them he had seen him.
"Did he say when he was returning?" asked Glen. "I don't want to meet
him. He's not my kind. Besides he might try and make it nasty over
leaving the fence. He's one of that sort."
"He's sure to be going back soon. He's been here some time I fancy. I
wonder why he tried to make me believe he knew nothing about Garry
Backham taking my place? It's all bunkum. He knew right enough, but he
must have some reason for trying to hide it," said Bill.
"If all I've heard about Mintaro is correct there are some queer goings
on at times. I've never been there, but one of the fellows on the fence,
Abe Carew, was employed by him for a long time. He offended Bellshaw,
who kicked him out, and he was very sore about it. He gave him a nice
character. I didn't believe it all, of course, but no doubt a lot of
it's true," Glen remarked.
"Bellshaw's one of those queer sorts, you never know what they are up
to, never know when you've got 'em. He's been in my place and said
things I knew were lies, and he seemed to have no reason for it, but he
must have had," said Bill.
"Some fellows lie for the sake of lying," Glen answered.
The woman slept all night until late next morning. When she came into
the large room Glen was the only one in it. She went straight up to him,
holding out both hands. When he took them she kissed him. The hot blood
surged in his veins. Was she always going to do this? He was glad no one
saw it.
"You feel much better?" he asked when he had recovered his equanimity.
"Almost well. Sleep is wonderful. Are we going to live here?" she
returned.
"No. This is a sort of hotel. We are staying here until we find a home."
"Why did we leave home?" she asked.
"It was impossible to stay there; there was only one room in the hut."
"Wasn't it always like that?" she asked as though trying to recall
something.
"No, not always. Can't you remember?"
"Remember--what?"
"Where you came from when you came to the hut."
She laughed.
"How funny you are. You know I always lived there."
"With me, and Jim, and Bill?" he asked.
She seemed puzzled.
"It must have been so, and yet--" she put her hand to her head.
He watched her. Would she remember, or would he have to wait? That it
would all come back to her some day he was certain, and then--
She was at the window, looking into the street. Lin Soo's shop was
nearly opposite, but he was not visible.
A dark man walked rapidly along, and was about to enter Lin Soo's when a
cab horse slipped and fell. This attracted his attention. He turned
round with the intention of going to assist the driver, but the horse
struggled to his feet unaided.
As the man looked across the road the woman at the window gave a faint
cry. Glen was at her side in a moment.
"What is it?" he asked.
"That man, the dark man, looking this way. I've seen him before. Who is
he? Do you know?" she said in an agitated voice.
It was Craig Bellshaw.