Argosy, Vol. 117, No. 3 — page 94: what you’re looking at

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

A404 “How did you get in?” she gasped. * You have come just in time!” “ Melican man velly much damn fool!” sneered a soft male voice behind Alec. IV. CHANG Leg, the waiter, had not been asleep when Masters had risen and disap- peared behind the screen of twisted bamboo trees. His first impulse had been to run after the inquisitive American and warn him that no trespassers were allowed, but upon second thought he concluded to warn old Wun Sing and let him deal with the in- truder as he wished. Chang went quickly by an entrance through the kitchen to an apartment where Li Sing, Wun’s third son and his favorite, Was arraying himself in silks and fine linens. Wun Sing was watching him. To-night was to see the fulfilment of his promise to his son—a promise made months before— that he should have a white wife, the vasa Chinook Winds. His old face was creased in a sieansitie smile. To-night also would see the culmina- tion of his revenge upon one of the hated *'Melican ” race. Revenge was sweet! Wun Sing was congratulating himself upon the peculiar devilishness of his scheme when in pattered Chang with the whispered information that a young Ameri- can had just opened the door behind the screen and was now doubtless somewhere in the hallway. “But the door was locked!” excitedly whispered old Wun Sing in his native tongue. “You forgot; maybe you excited about the wedding. You forgot.” | Which was true, only proving the fallibil- ity of human nature. Old Wun Sing, who had guarded that door for so long, had, in his excitement over the culmination of his revenge, forgotten in this one instance to lock it. Also, the sliding door which had always remained closed, the door that separated the girl’s rooms from the other quarters, and where she was kept virtually a prisoner, this he had opened for the entrance of the bridal! party—the guests who were smoking and THE ARGOSY. gambling in the rooms waiting for the time to arrive. He had thought that with the outer door locked it was safe enough. Which would have been true, but he had forgotten to lock the outer door! Thus it was that when Masters swung about he faced the saturnine glare of old Wun Sing’s eyes and, peeping from one of the big, loose-flowing sleeves, the shining barrel of a revolver. There came the sharp report of a revolver, a puff of smoke from the region of Mas- ters’s pocket, the hand of the old China- man loosed its grip, and the gun went clat- tering to the floor. Masters gave a lithe spring and buried his fingers in the other’s fat throat. He shook the old Celestial until the breath was out of him, then kicked him under the sofa just as the room became overpopulated with Chinamen. All in gala attire they poured into the room, but this was not just the sort of ceremony they had been prepared to attend. They saw a young American with two revol- vers, and back of him cowered the fright- ened girl. “Follow me!” he directed the latter. ““1’m going through or over that bunch.” At this moment a bullet whined past and grazed his shoulder, taking cloth and flesh impartially, and buried itself in the wall. It was Chang Lee, the only one armed with a pistol, the others had knives. Mas- ters fired and Chang Lee was out of the mélée for good. The pain of Alec’s wound had finished turning him into a fighting devil. He began firing with both guns into the crowd. It was his and the girl’s life or a bunch of miserable chinks. As he ad- vanced they retreated, though with growls of hate and yelps of fear as the bullets lodged where Masters aimed. The blood was streaming from the wound in his arm, his evening shirt was red with it, his face a livid fury; the two guns spoke | again and the entire pack turned, going through the door into the restaurant beyond —save for the ones who remained behind from necessity. Over these stepped Masters, the girl COMMICLOO© S (C@)