THE MYSTERIOUS CHINESE
On the night following the first clean-up, Ben was awakened about
midnight. He had been sleeping so heavily that for some minutes after
awakening he did not realize where he was. Then the outlines of the
rough walls of the room and the regular breathing of Mundon recalled
him to his surroundings. He was too wide-awake to sleep again, and he
reviewed the events of the day, and then fell to speculating upon the
plans for the morrow.
Suddenly he sat bolt upright, every faculty alert. There was a sound of
stealthy footsteps in the outer room.
Ben knew now the cause of his sudden awakening. Some one had entered
the building, and was creeping about searching for--what? “The gold!”
he instantly replied to the question.
Ben knew that Mundon had placed the gold in a box underneath his bunk.
There was so little of it as yet that this had been thought to be a
sufficiently safe place.
Should he awaken Mundon? It hardly seemed necessary. He crept from his
bed and crossed the room to the door. The stealthy footsteps could be
heard at intervals, as though the person constantly paused to listen.
The noise appeared to come from the corner of the building in which the
“jigger” was situated; and Ben concluded that the man was searching
there for the gold. Feeling that he could keep quiet no longer, Ben
grasped Mundon’s arm.
“Hush!” he whispered. “Don’t speak! Some one’s out there--looking for
the gold!”
Mundon was thoroughly awake in an instant. Together they crept to the
door. The noise suddenly ceased, and there followed a long interval of
silence.
“I’m afraid we’ve frightened him off,” whispered Mundon.
Just then a slight sound told them that the burglar was still there. A
flash of light through the cracks of the door told them that he carried
a dark lantern.
“Be ready!” Mundon directed. “I’ll unlock the door and we’ll rush for
the gates!”
He unlocked the door and the partners tore across the rough floor to
the gates. They were somewhat surprised to find them locked.
“Who’s there? Stop, or I’ll fire!” cried Ben.
They listened, trying to locate the intruder in the darkness; but the
silence following this challenge remained unbroken.
“He must hev run up the beach to climb the bulkhead,” said Mundon.
“I’ll go out and head him off. You stay here and watch. If he’s hidin’
here, and makes a sound, you call me.”
Left alone in the darkness, Ben fancied several times that he heard
the burglar moving in the black shadows of the interior. But a careful
investigation, with the aid of a lantern when Mundon returned, proved
that the place was empty.
“I don’t see how he could hev got over that bulkhead so quick,” Mundon
remarked, as he related his unsuccessful attempt to capture the man.
“Must hev ben mighty lively, and an acrobat in the bargain, to git out
of sight in that time. Let’s see what mischief he’s ben up to.”
The “jigger” was undisturbed, but they found footprints in the moist
ground near the furnace.
“Mebbe he came in a boat,” Mundon suddenly suggested. “Mebbe he wasn’t
after our gold at all.”
Ben stared in surprise. “Not after the gold!” he exclaimed. “Then what
in thunder was he after?”
“Can’t you guess?”
“No.”
“Well, I was thinkin’ that mebbe there’s more opium hidden away here
that we ain’t found.”
“Opium!”
“Well, we found one lot here. Why shouldn’t we find some more. Who’s to
say that we found all there was stowed here?”
“They would have taken it away before this.”
“How could they? They didn’t dare come back while there was a chance of
them Custom House fellers bein’ ’round. And lately we haven’t let this
place out our sight.”
“That’s so,” replied Ben. “You think there’s more opium hidden
somewhere round this furnace?”
“That’s it.”
“Well, I’ll take out those loose bricks in the morning--those on the
side next the water, that we didn’t touch.”
In the morning a thorough search was made, but no opium was found.
No satisfactory explanation of the presence of the midnight visitor
offered itself, but matters of greater importance soon occupied the
thoughts of the partners.
News of the venture spread. The scoop was read by thousands, and many
of the curiously inclined were attracted to the spot.
On the second day the crowd was so large that Ben was compelled
to close the gates. There were several reporters, who took notes,
photographed Ben and the interior of the building, and interviewed the
partners as to their enterprise.
Although Ben was feeling better, he was not entirely at ease. The whole
thing seemed so theatrical. It was like working on the stage of a
theater. Besides, he was not yet assured of success.
While the presence of spectators was flattering, it was rather
embarrassing to the workmen. They would have preferred to have made
their clean-up without an audience. Skepticism, along with curiosity,
was written on the faces of all. And, like all sensation-seekers, they
withheld any decided opinion until the result should be known.
In imagination Ben could already hear the jeering laughter of the crowd
over his failure, and this added to his nervousness. His cheeks were
flushed with excitement, and he stole over to where Beth and little Sue
were standing and said in an anxious whisper, “It’s just awful not to
know how it’s going to pan out!”
When at length the crucial moment arrived, and he saw Mundon scoop up
some particles of yellow metal with one hand while with the other he
waved his hat, everything seemed to swim before Ben’s eyes.
The crowd gave a hearty cheer, in which he joined as if in a dream.
It was pleasant to be congratulated; and it must be confessed that the
boy miner enjoyed being looked upon as a marvel of enterprise.
Old Madge appeared to be wonderfully interested in the proceedings; and
Ben did not quite like the expression of his countenance when he looked
upon the gold. Neither did he like a look of envy which could be seen
upon the faces of some others.
“Can’t please everybody,” Ben said to himself, with a shrug. “Some
people never like to see any one else succeed.”
The rest of it was pleasant enough. There was a sort of Fourth-of-July
excitement about it that was most exhilarating.
After the last hanger-on had gone and the gates were shut for the
night, Mundon remarked that he would go down-town to get a new fitting
that was needed.
“We got twice as much gold to-day as we did yesterday,” he said as he
turned to go. “Mebbe we’ll get twice as much as this to-morrer--it’s
bound to vary. But, anyway, we’re all right. Well, so long! I’ll be
back inside of an hour.”
“So long!” Ben replied.
Left alone on the scene of his triumph, Ben surveyed the mass of
rubbish and endeavored to estimate how much it would yield.
He had supposed himself to be alone, and was surprised to see a
Chinaman standing in the opening above the little strip of beach.
“What do you want here?” Ben demanded.
“I come to see you on business,” the man replied in excellent English.
“How’d you get here?”
“O, I come in when other people come; and I wait till your partner go,
because I want to see you alone.”
With a quick motion of his arm the man threw back one of his voluminous
sleeves and pointed with his claw-like fingers to the roof and walls.
Ben noted that his dress marked him as a member of the ordinary
merchant class of Chinese.
“You work with the bricks and dirt,” he said, pointing to the piles of
rubbish. “What you intend to do with building?”
Ben’s suspicions were aroused. “He wants to drive some bargain with me
about that opium business,” he thought.
“O, I’ll sell it for lumber to some builder, I guess,” he indifferently
replied.
“Not worth very much.”
“No; not very much.”
“I notice you have plenty of room here; so I think perhaps you like
to rent this place to me to store my goods.” He darted one of his
capacious sleeves inside his blouse and drew forth a card, which he
handed to Ben.
“I give you my card.”
Ben glanced at the card. “_Ng Quong Lee, Fruitpacker; Factory, 792
Jackson Street_,” it read.
“I shall be here for only a short time,” Ben said. “The lease of this
building expires in a few months. Besides, you couldn’t store anything
here; there are too many holes in the walls and roofs.”
“O, that wouldn’t matter,--my goods are canned. My factory too crowded
at this time of year. Fruit season now, you know. For a few months I
like to rent another place.”
“I’m sorry I can’t accommodate you,” Ben said, turning away, “but I
need all the place myself.”
“I give you thirty dollars a month,” the Chinese said, with a shrewd
glance.
This offer increased Ben’s suspicion, and he flatly refused to consider
it.
“You make too much money,” the other said in conclusion. “You too rich,
I think. Well, I leave my card. Perhaps some time you come to see me.
Some time,” he looked Ben squarely in the face, “if Mr. Fish make you
trouble, you come to see me.” With which enigmatical remark he politely
bowed and took his departure.
“I wonder what he was after and what he meant by that last?” Ben
reflected, when he had fastened the gates after his strange visitor.
“There’s something wrong about it, or he wouldn’t offer me thirty
dollars a month for a part of this crazy old shed. He’ll wait a long
time, I’m thinking, before he receives a call from me.”
After thinking the matter over, Ben concluded not to mention it to
Mundon. He was afraid he might urge him to accept it, and this he did
not wish to do.