The Chinese Parrot (Charlie Chan Detective Series) — page 243: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

a uncertain. An’ then the cry comes again, almost the same words—but not the man this time. It's Tony, the Chinese parrot, on his perch in the patio, an’ from him the words is shrill an’ piercin'—more terrible, somehow. An' then I hears a sharp report—the gun is workin’. The racket seems to come from a lighted room in one ell—a window is open. I creeps closer, an’ there goes the gun ag'in. There's a sort of groan. It's hit, sure enough. I goes up to the window an’ looks in.” He paused. "Then what?" Bob Eden asked breathlessly. "Well, it's a bedroom, an’ he's standin’ there with the smokin’ gun in his hand, lookin’ fierce but frightened like. An’ there's somebody on the floor, t'other side o' the bed—all I kin see is his shoes. He turns toward the window, the gun still in his hand—" "Who?" cried Bob Eden. "Who was it with the gun in his hand? You're talking about Martin Thorn?" "Thorn? You mean that little sneakin' secretary? No—I ain't speakin' o' Thorn. I'm speakin' o' him—" "Who?" "The big boss. Madden. P.J. Madden himself.” There was a moment of tense silence. "Good lord," gasped Eden. "Madden? You mean to say that Madden— Why, it's impossible. How did you know? Are you sure?" "O' course I'm sure. I know Madden well enough. I seen him three years ago at the ranch. A big man, red-faced, 243 comiicboeoe S CO