"I believe," I said heartily, "that you are the man to do it, if it
could be done by a single man. But I warn you now that the white race
will never surrender California, except at the compulsion of arms."
Big Sam sighed again, but his face retained its impassive calm.
"In that case I shall live and die a Chinese merchant--Big Sam, the King
of Chinatown, as your people are kind enough to call me."
There was something of pathos in this descent from the heights of his
great projects. He had given me a glimpse of the purposes nearest his
heart, had shown me something of the real man that lay behind the
disguise of his impassive face and every-day pursuits. But he closed
the door of his soul with a sudden contraction of his eyes, and said in
a matter-of-fact tone:
"And now are you tired of the girl I intrusted to you? Is she still a
convalescent?"
"Why, we have no thought of surrendering her," I said, in some surprise
that he should renew the subject. "She is improving rapidly. She is
able to walk about, and is considered a most tractable patient."
"That is very satisfactory," began Big Sam, but I interrupted:
"There is only one question agitating us about her. She seems so much
above the women of your race we see about us that we should like to know
something of her history."
Big Sam bowed courteously, as though I had offered him a compliment.
"I see that you are looking for a romance," he said. "Well, possibly I
can gratify you. I had supposed myself that she sprang from a low
parentage--or at highest from the shopkeeper class--though, as you say,
she seems much above the Chinese women you are privileged to see. She
came hither from an orphan home in Canton, and was said to be of unknown
parentage. I have made further inquiries, however, and have just
received a letter from a friend in Canton with a few details that may
please you. The girl is the daughter of a mandarin, descended from a
long line of scholars. But her father, mother, brothers and all known
relatives perished in the plague, their fortune was confiscated, and the
girl--then an infant--was turned over to the keeping of the orphanage."
"That is very interesting. Is there any chance of establishing her
rights?"
"Not the slightest. But you will be glad to hear that I shall soon have
a home for her among her own people." Big Sam was, as usual, coming to
his point by indirection.
"I trust it is one you can recommend," I said bluntly.
"It is one that exactly fills the conditions under which the girl was
taken," he responded dryly. "A reputable man of her own race--a
merchant--wishes to make her his wife."
"He is well-to-do, I assume."
"Naturally, or he would not be able to meet the demands of the tongs."
"Has he another wife?" I asked, with mistrust of the Chinese domestic
arrangements.
"None."
"In that case, I think he may be ready to offer his credentials in
something less than a month."
"He will find it difficult to repress his impatience," said Big Sam
gravely. "He is a widower."
And with a bow of ceremony he dismissed me.
*CHAPTER XXXII*
*THE ANSWER*
The duties of the day were at last done, and I turned toward the
Kendrick house with a lively sense of my obligation to relieve the
anxieties that might still be felt in that household. The afternoon had
been taken up with the fag ends of our business complications, and
darkness had set in before I could leave the office. The streets were
quiet, and, except for the Vigilante patrols, were almost deserted.
As I neared my destination a large man halted me with a raised
pick-handle, and said:
"Vere go you, mine vrendt? Don'd you petter go home?"