Sir Lucien came out into the alley wearing a greasy cloth cap pulled
down over his eyes and an old overall, the collar turned up about a
red woollen muffler which enveloped the lower part of his face. The
odor of the outfit was disgusting, but this man's double life had
brought him so frequently in contact with all forms of uncleanness,
including that of the Far East, compared with which the dirt of the
West is hygienic, that he suffered it without complaint.
A Chinese "boy" of indeterminable age, wearing a slop-shop suit and a
cap, was waiting outside the door, and when Sin Sin Wa appeared,
carefully locking up, he muttered something rapidly in his own
sibilant language.
Sin Sin Wa made no reply. To his indoor attire he had added a
pea-jacket and a bowler hat; and the oddly assorted trio set off
westward, following the bank of the Thames in the direction of
Limehouse Basin. The narrow, ill-lighted streets were quite deserted,
but from the river and the riverside arose that ceaseless jangle of
industry which belongs to the great port of London. On the Surrey
shore whistles shrieked, and endless moving chains sent up their
monstrous clangor into the night. Human voices sometimes rose above
the din of machinery.
In silence the three pursued their way, crossing inlets and circling
around basins dimly divined, turning to the right into a lane flanked
by high, eyeless walls, and again to the left, finally to emerge
nearly opposite a dilapidated gateway giving access to a small wharf,
on the rickety gates bills were posted announcing, "This Wharf to
Let." The annexed building appeared to be a mere shell. To the right
again they turned, and once more to the left, halting before a
two-story brick house which had apparently been converted into a
barber's shop. In one of the grimy windows were some loose packets of
cigarettes, a soapmaker's advertisement, and a card:
SAM TUK
BARBER
Opening the door with a key which he carried, the boy admitted Sir
Lucien and Sin Sin Wa to the dimly-lighted interior of a room the
pretensions of which to be regarded as a shaving saloon were supported
by the presence of two chairs, a filthy towel, and a broken mug. Sin
Sin Wa shuffled across to another door, and, followed by Sir Lucien,
descended a stone stair to a little cellar apparently intended for
storing coal. A tin lamp stood upon the bottom step.
Removing the lamp from the step, Sin Sin Wa set it on the cellar
floor, which was black with coal dust, then closed and bolted the
door. A heap of nondescript litter lay piled in a corner of the
cellar. This Sin Sin Wa disturbed sufficiently to reveal a movable
slab in the roughly paved floor. It was so ingeniously concealed by
coal dust that one who had sought it unaided must have experienced
great difficulty in detecting it. Furthermore, it could only be raised
in the following manner:
A piece of strong iron wire, which lay among the other litter, was
inserted in a narrow slot, apparently a crack in the stone. About an
inch of the end of the wire being bent outward to form a right angle,
when the seemingly useless piece of scrap-iron had been thrust through
the slab and turned, it formed a handle by means of which the trap
could be raised.
Again Sin Sin Wa took up the lamp, placing it at the brink of the
opening revealed. A pair of wooden steps rested below, and Sir Lucien,
who evidently was no stranger to the establishment, descended
awkwardly, since there was barely room for a big man to pass. He found
himself in the mouth of a low passage, unpaved and shored up with
rough timbers in the manner of a mine-working. Sin Sin Wa followed
with the lamp, drawing the slab down into its place behind him.
Stooping forward and bending his knees, Sir Lucien made his way along
the passage, the Chinaman following. It was of considerable length,
and terminated before a strong door bearing a massive lock. Sin Sin Wa
reached over the stooping figure of Sir Lucien and unfastened the
lock. The two emerged in a kind of dug-out. Part of it had evidently
been in existence before the ingenious Sin Sin Wa had exercised his
skill upon it, and was of solid brickwork and stone-paved; palpably a
storage vault. But it had been altered to suit the Chinaman's purpose,
and one end--that in which the passage came out--was timbered. It
contained a long counter and many shelves; also a large oil-stove and
a number of pots, pans, and queer-looking jars. On the counter stood a
ship's lantern. The shelves were laden with packages and bottles.
Behind the counter sat a venerable and perfectly bald Chinaman. The
only trace of hair upon his countenance grew on the shrunken upper lip
--mere wisps of white down. His skin was shrivelled like that of a
preserved fig, and he wore big horn-rimmed spectacles. He never once
exhibited the slightest evidence of life, and his head and face, and
the horn-rimmed spectacles, might quite easily have passed for those
of an unwrapped mummy. This was Sam Tuk.
Bending over a box upon which rested a canvas-bound package was a
burly seaman engaged in unknotting the twine with which the canvas was
kept in place. As Sin Sin Wa and Sir Lucien came in he looked up,
revealing a red-bearded, ugly face, very puffy under the eyes.
"Wotcher, Sin Sin!" he said gruffly. "Who's your long pal?"
"Friend," murmured Sin Sin Wa complacently. "You gotchee pukka stuff
thisee time, George?"
"I allus brings the pukka stuff!" roared the seaman, ceasing to fumble
with the knots and glaring at Sin Sin Wa. "Wotcher mean--pukka stuff?"
"Gotchee no use for bran," murmured Sin Sin Wa. "Gotchee no use for
tin-tack. Gotchee no use for glue."
"Bran!" roared the man, his glance and pose very menacing. "Tin-tacks
and glue! Who the flamin' 'ell ever tried to sell you glue?"
"Me only wantchee lemindee you," said Sin Sin Wa. "No pidgin."
"George" glared for a moment, breathing heavily; then he stooped and
resumed his task, Sin Sin Wa and Sir Lucien watching him in silence. A
sound of lapping water was faintly audible.
Opening the canvas wrappings, the man began to take out and place upon
the counter a number of reddish balls of "leaf" opium, varying in
weight from about eight ounces to a pound or more.
From a pocket of his pea-jacket he drew a long bodkin, and taking up
one of the largest balls he thrust the bodkin in and then withdrew it,
the steel stained a coffee color. Sin Sin Wa smelled and tasted the
substance adhering to the bodkin, weighed the ball reflectively in his
yellow palm, and then set it aside. He took up a second, whereupon:
"'Alf a mo', guvnor!" cried the seaman furiously. "D'you think I'm
going to wait 'ere while you prods about in all the blasted lot? It's
damn near high tide--I shan't get out. 'Alf time! Savvy? Shove it on
the scales!"
"Too muchee slick. Too muchee bhobbery," he murmured. "Sin Sin Wa
gotchee sabby what him catchee buy or no pidgin."
"What's the game?" inquired George menacingly. "Don't you know a cake
o' Smyrna when you smells it?"
"No sabby lead chop till ploddem withee dipper," explained the
Chinaman, imperturbably.
"Lead!" shouted the man. "There ain't no bloody lead in 'em!"
"H'm," murmured Sin Sin Wa smilingly. "So fashion, eh? All velly
proper."
He calmly inserted the bodkin in the second cake; seemed to meet with
some obstruction, and laid the ball down upon the counter. From
beneath his jacket he took out a clasp-knife attached to a steel
chain. Undeterred by a savage roar from the purveyor, he cut the
sticky mass in half, and digging his long nails into one of the
halves, brought out two lead shots. He directed a glance of his beady
eye upon the man.
The cake of Indian opium was submitted to the same careful scrutiny as
that which the balls of Turkish had already undergone, but the Patna
opium proved to be unadulterated. Reaching over the counter Sin Sin Wa
produced a pair of scales, and, watched keenly by George, weighed the
leaf and then the cake.
"Ten-six Smyrna; one 'leben Patna," muttered Sin Sin Wa. "You catchee
eighty jimmies."
"Eh?" roared George. "Eighty quid! Eighty quid! Flamin' blind o'
Riley! D'you think I'm up the pole? Eighty quid? You're barmy!"
"Eighty-ten," murmured Sin Sin Wa. "Eighty jimmies opium; ten bob
lead."
"I give more'n that for it!" cried the seaman. "An' I damn near hit a
police boat comin' in, too!"
Sir Lucien spoke a few words rapidly in Chinese. Sin Sin Wa performed
his curious oriental shrug, and taking a fat leather wallet from his
hip-pocket, counted out the sum of eighty-five pounds upon the
counter.
"You catchee eighty-five," he murmured. "Too muchee price."
The man grabbed the money and pocketed it without a word of
acknowledgment. He turned and strode along the room, his heavy,
iron-clamped boots ringing on the paved floor.
"Fetch a grim, Sin Sin," he cried. "I'll never get out if I don't jump
to it."
Sin Sin Wa took the lantern from the counter and followed. Opening a
door at the further end of the place, he set the lantern at the head
of three descending wooden steps discovered. With the opening of the
door the sound of lapping water had grown perceptibly louder. George
clattered down the steps, which led to a second but much stouter door.
Sin Sin Wa followed, nearly closing the first door, so that only a
faint streak of light crept down to them.
The second door was opened, and the clangor of the Surrey shore
suddenly proclaimed itself. Cold, damp air touched them, and the faint
light of the lantern above cast their shadows over unctuous gliding
water, which lapped the step upon which they stood. Slimy shapes
uprose dim and ghostly from its darkly moving surface.
A boat was swinging from a ring beside the door, and into it George
tumbled. He unhitched the lashings, and strongly thrust the boat out
upon the water. Coming to the first of the dim shapes, he grasped it
and thereby propelled the skiff to another beyond. These indistinct
shapes were the piles supporting the structure of a wharf.
He waited until the boat was swallowed in the deeper shadows, then
reclosed the water-gate and ascended to the room where Sir Lucien
awaited. Such was the receiving office of Sin Sin Wa. While the wharf
remained untenanted it was not likely to be discovered by the
authorities, for even at low tide the river-door was invisible from
passing craft. Prospective lessees who had taken the trouble to
inquire about the rental had learned that it was so high as to be
prohibitive.
Sin Sin Wa paid fair prices and paid cash. This was no more than a
commercial necessity. For those who have opium, cocaine, veronal, or
heroin to sell can always find a ready market in London and elsewhere.
But one sufficiently curious and clever enough to have solved the
riddle of the vacant wharf would have discovered that the mysterious
owner who showed himself so loath to accept reasonable offers for the
property could well afford to be thus independent. Those who control
"the traffic" control El Dorado--a city of gold which, unlike the
fabled Manoa, actually exists and yields its riches to the
unscrupulous adventurer.
Smiling his mirthless, eternal smile, Sin Sin Wa placed the newly
purchased stock upon a shelf immediately behind Sam Tuk; and Sam Tuk
exhibited the first evidence of animation which had escaped him
throughout the progress of the "deal." He slowly nodded his hairless
head.