“Two plecee coolie! Two piecee coolie!” And then, when one brown-legged
ragamuffin had picked up the shafts and another had fallen in behind the
seat, added, still in a shrill voice, “_Hôtel de Chine_--chop, chop!”
It was incongruous, that absurd pidgin-English at such a time.
But it was effective. I have never traveled so rapidly through the
streets of Peking. I found two Mexican dollars in my pocket, and held
them up, one in each hand.
“Chop, chop! Chop, chop!” I cried again. And the coolies put their heads
down and ran with all the strength that was in them.
They pulled up in my shabby little street, with a jerk that nearly threw
me out. I sprang down, threw the two dollars on the seat, and ran into
the hotel.
Then I stopped short.
For standing by the clerk's desk, looking over the board that hung there
with our names--Hel-oise's and mine--in plain view, stood Crocker. He
was peering closely from line to line down the first column of names,
guiding his eye with an unsteady forefinger. He stood up very straight,
with feet placed a little way apart. From the side pocket of his coat
projected the silver tip of the knife handle, beneath which I could see
a half-inch of black lacquer.
I drew my spectacle case from my pocket, took off my glasses, and
carefully put them away.
He was intent on the list of names and room numbers. Behind the counter
stood the little French manager, leaning forward and watching him rather
coldly. But Crocker was oblivious to all but the one idea; his finger
wobbled slowly downward from name to name.
My first impulse was to go directly up to him. But what then? What could
I say or do? He was past reason, surely; but not past the use of his
physical strength. He had been every bit as drunk as this when he
knocked the waiter down in the hotel at Yokohama. What if he were to
knock me down in the same way--with that sudden, short swing of his fist
to the chin? I would of course drop as the waiter had dropped, and, like
him, would lie inert, leaving Crocker free to rove at will.
My eyes turned to the stairway, up and down which I have walked or run
so many times during this eventful week.
That was the place. I would at least be above him there... if I could
pass him and reach it safely.