June 27, 2023 • 30 mins
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Espionage adventures, Covert operations, Thrilling missions, International intrigue, Spy thriller, Government agents, Undercover work, Secret intelligence, Political espionage, Intriguing conspiracies, High-stakes espionage, Intelligence gathering, Hidden identities, Espionage secrets, Political thrillers, Spy network, Secret missions, Classified operations, Intrigue and suspense, Government secrets
Espionage adventures, Covert operations, Thrilling missions, International intrigue, Spy thriller, Government agents, Undercover work, Secret intelligence, Political espionage, Intriguing conspiracies, High-stakes espionage, Intelligence gathering, Hidden identities, Espionage secrets, Political thrillers, Spy network, Secret missions, Classified operations, Intrigue and suspense, Government secrets
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Transcript
Episode Transcript
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(00:00):
Chapter fourteen, wa Lee and theFlower of Heaven. Yes, there's quite
a story attached to that, remarkedBill Quinn one evening, as the conversation
first lagged and then drifted away intosilence. We were seated in his den
at the time, the library whichhe had ornamated with the relics of a
(00:23):
score or more of cases in whichthe various governmental detective services had distinguished themselves.
And I came to with a startwhat I exclaimed, story in what
in that hatchet, the one onthe wall there that you were speculating about.
(00:44):
It didn't take a psychological sleuth tofollow your eyes and read the look
of speculation in them. That's atrick that a sparrow cop could pull.
Well. Then suppose you pay thepenalty for your wisdom and spin the yarn,
I retorted, nonetheless, glad ofthe opportunity to hear the facts behind
(01:04):
the sinister red stain which appeared inthe blade of the Chinese weapon, for
I knew that Quinn could give themto me if he wished. Frankly,
I don't know the full history ofthe hatchet. Came the answer from the
other side of the fireplace. Possiblyit goes back to the Ming dynasty,
(01:25):
whenever that was, or possibly itwas purchased from a mail order house in
Chicago. Chop Suey isn't the onlyChinese article made in this country, you
know, But my interest in itcommenced with the night when Ezra Marx.
However, let's start at the beginning. Marx continued. The former operative was,
(01:47):
as you probably recall, one ofthe best men ever connected with the
Custom Service. It was he whosolved the biggest diamond smuggling case on record,
and he was also responsible for thediscovery of the manner in which thirty
thousand yards of very valuable silk wasbeing run into the country every year without
(02:08):
visiting the Custom Office. That's apiece of the silk up there over the
picture of Missus Armitage. It wasn'tmany months before the affair of the Dillingham
diamonds that official Washington in general,and the offices of the Custom Service in
particular, grew quite excited over thefact that a lot of opium was finding
(02:30):
its way into California. Of course, there's always a fair amount of hop
on the market, provided you knowwhere to look for it, and the
government has about as much chance ofkeeping it out altogether as it has of
breaking up the trade of moonshine whiskey. The mountaineer is going to have his
liquor and the chink is going tohave his dope, no matter what you
(02:53):
do. But it's up to theInternal Revenue Bureau and the Custom Service to
see that neither one arrives in wholesalequantities. And that was just what was
happening on the coast. In fact, it was coming in so fast that
the price was dropping every day,and the California authorities fairly burned up the
(03:16):
wires cross continent with their howls forhelp. At that time, Marx Ezra
by name and e z by nickname, was comparatively a new member of the
force. He had rendered valuable servicein Boston, however, and the Chief
sent for him and put the wholething in his hands. Get out to
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San Diego as quickly as you knowhow, snapped the Chief, tossing over
a sheaf of yellow telegraph slips.There's all the information we have, and
apparently you won't get much more outthere unless you dig it up for yourself.
All they seem to know is thatthe stuff is coming in by the
(04:00):
carload and is being peddled in allthe hop joints at a lower price than
ever before. It's up to youto get the details. Any help you
need will be supplied from the SanFrancisco office. But my advice is to
play a lone hand. You're likelyto get further than if you have a
gang with you all the time.That's my idea, Chief drawled Ezra,
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who hailed from Vermont and had allthe New Englander's affection for single handed effort,
not because he had the least objectionto sharing the glory, but simply
because he considered it the most efficientway to work. I'll get right out
there and see how the land lays. Needn't bother to report until you discover
something worthwhile, added the chief,I'll know that you're on the job,
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and the farther you keep away fromheadquarters, the less suspicion you're likely to
arouse. This was the reason that, beyond the fact that they knew that
an operative named Marks had been sentfrom Washington to look into the opium matter,
the government agents on the coast werecompletely in the dark as to the
(05:12):
way in which the affair was beinghandled. In fact, the Chief himself
was pretty well worried when two monthsslipped by without a word from Ezra.
But the big raw boned Yankee washaving troubles of his own. Likewise,
he took his instructions very seriously anddidn't see the least reason for informing Washington
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of the very patent fact that hehad gotten nowhere and found out nothing.
They know where they can reach me. He argued to himself one night about
the time that the Chief began towonder if his men were floating around the
bay with a piece of Chinese ropeabout his neck. Unless I get a
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wire, they won't hear anything untilI have at least a line on this
gang. Then, on going overthe evidence which he had collected during the
weeks that he had been in SanDiego, he found that there was extremely
little of it. Discreet questioning haddeveloped the fact which he already knew that
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opium was plentiful all along the coast, and that presumably it was supplied from
a point in the south of thestate. But all his efforts to locate
the source of the drug brought himup against a blank wall. In order
to conduct his investigations with a minimumof suspicion. Marx had elected to enter
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San Diego in the guise of aderelict, a character which he had played
to such perfection that two weeks afterhe arrived he found himself in court on
the charge of vagrancy. Only thefact that the presiding magistrate did not believe
in sentencing first offenders saved him fromten days in the workhouse, an opportunity
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which he was rather sorry to miss, because he figured that he might pick
up some valuable leads from the opiumattics among his fellow prisoners. The only
new point which he had developed duringhis stay in the underworld was that some
one named Sprague, presumably an American, was the brains of the Opium ring
and had perfected the entire plan.But who Sprague was or where he might
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be found were matters which were keptin very watchful secrecy. I give it
up, muttered the operative, shrugginghis arms into a threadbare coat and shambling
out of the disreputable rooming house whichpassed for home work. Doesn't seem to
get me anywhere. Guess I'll haveto trust to luck, and he wandered
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out for his nightly stroll. Throughthe Chinese quarter, hoping against hope that
something would happen. It did inbunches. Possibly it was luck. Possible
it was fate, which after all, is only another name for luck,
that brought him into an especially unsavoryportion of the city shortly after midnight.
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He had wandered along for three hoursor more, with no objective in view,
save occasional visits to dive, wherehe was known, when he heard
something which caused him to whirl andautomatically reach for his hip pocket. It
was the cry of a woman,shrill and clear, the cry of a
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woman in mortal danger. It hadonly sounded once, but there was a
peculiar muffled quality at the end ofthe note, suggestive of a hand or
a gag having been placed over thewoman's mouth. Then silence, so still
as to be almost oppressive. Puzzled, Mark stood stock still and waited.
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So far as he could remember,that was the first time he had heard
anything of the kind in Chinatown.He knew that there were women there,
but they were kept well in thebackground and apparently were content with their lot.
The woman who had screamed, however, was in danger of her life
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behind one of those flimsy walls.Some drama was being enacted in defiance of
the law. Something was being donewhich meant danger of the most deadly kind
to him who dared to interfere.For a full minute, Marx weighed the
importance of his official mission against hissense of humanity. Should he take a
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chance on losing his prey merely totry to save a woman's life. Should
he attempt to find the house fromwhich the scream had come and forced the
door? Should? But the questionwas solved for him in a manner even
more startling than the cry in thenight. While he was still debating,
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the door of a house directly infront of him opened wide, and a
blinding glare of light spread fanwise intothe street. Across this there shot the
figure of what Marks at first tookto be a man, a figure attired
in a long, heavily embroidered jacketand silken trousers. As it neared him,
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however, the operative sense that itwas a woman, and an instant
later he knew that it was thewoman whose stifled scream had halted him Only
a moment before. Straight toward Marx, she came, and close behind her,
their faces set in a look ofdeadly implacable rage, raced two large
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chinamen. Probably realizing that she stoodno chance of escape in the open street,
the woman darted behind Marx and preparedto dodge her pursuers. As she
did so, the operative her pantingappeal save me, for the sake of
the God, save me. Thatwas all that was necessary. Ez were
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sensed in an instant the fact thathe had become embroiled in what bade fair
to be a tragedy, and bracedhimself for action. He knew that he
had no chance for holding off bothmen, particularly as he did not care
to precipitate gun play, but therewas the hope that he might divert them
until the girl escaped. As thefirst of the two men leaped toward him,
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Marx swung straight for his jaw,but his assailant ducked with what was
almost professional rapidity, and the blowwas only a glancing one. Before the
operative had time to get set,the other man was upon him, and
in utter silence, save for theirlabored breathing and dull thuds as blows went
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home, they fought their way backto the far side of the street.
As he retreated, Marx became consciousthat, instead of making her escape,
the girl was still behind him.The reason for this became apparent when the
larger of the chinaman suddenly raised hisarm, and the light from the open
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doorway glinted on the blade of amurderous, short handled axe, the favorite
weapon of Tong warfare, straight forhis head. The blade descended, but
the girl's arm, thrust out ofthe darkness behind him, diverted the blow,
and the hatchet fairly whistled as itpassed within an inch of his body.
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Realizing that his only hope of safetylay in reaching the opposite side of
the sidewalk, where he would beable to fight with his back against the
wall, Marx resumed his retreat,his arms moving like flails, his fists
crashing home blows that lost much oftheir power by reason of the heavily padded
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jackets of his opponents. Finally,after seconds that seemed like hours, one
of his blows found the jaw ofthe man nearest him, and Mars wheeled
to set himself for the onrush ofthe other, the man with the hatchet,
But just at that moment his footstruck the uneven curbing and threw him
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off his balance. He was consciousof an arc of light as the blade
sang through the air. He hearda high, half muffled cry from the
girl beside him, and he rememberedtrying to throw himself out of the way
of the hatchet. Then there wasa stinging, smarting pain in the sight
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of his head and in his leftshoulder, followed by the blackness of oblivion.
From nowhere, apparently a long distanceoff, there came a voice which
brought back at least a part ofthe operative's last failing consciousness, a voice
which called a name vaguely familiar tohim, Sprague. Sprague. Sprague,
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muttered Marx, trying to collect himself. Who is Sprague? Then, as
he put it, later, hewent off. How much time elapsed before
he came to he was unable tosay, but subsequent developments indicated that it
was at least a day and anight. He hadn't the slightest idea what
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had occurred. Meanwhile, he onlyknew that he seemed to drift back to
consciousness and to realization that his headwas splitting, as if it would burst
Mechanically. He stretched his legs andtried to rise, only to find that
what appeared to be a wooden wallclosed him in on all sides, leaving
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an opening only directly above him.For an appreciable time, he lay still
to collect his thoughts. He recalledthe fight in the open street, the
intervention of the girl, the fallover the curb, and then there was
something that he couldn't remember, somethingvital that had occurred just after he had
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tried to dodge the hatchet blade.Yes, he murmured as memory returned.
It was someone calling for Sprague.Sprague. Hush, came a whispered command
out of the darkness which surrounded him, and a hand, soft and very
evidently feminine, covered his mouth.You must not mention that name here.
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It means the death, instant andterrible. They are discussing your fate in
there now. But if they hadthought that you knew wah Lee, your
life would not be worth a yen. Wah Lee. Who is he,
marks, replied, his voice pitchedin an undertone. I don't remember anywa
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Lee, and who are you?Who I am does not matter, came
out of the darkness. But whileLee, he is the master of life
and death, the high Priest ofthe Flower of heaven. Had it not
been for him, you would havebeen dead before this. But I thought
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that he desired your life, sohe did and does. But they have
to plan the way in which itis to be taken and the disposition which
is to be made of your body. That was what gave me my opportunity
for binding up your wound and watchingfor you to wake. In spite of
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himself, Marx could not repress aslight shudder. So they were saving him
for the sacrifice. Eh. Theywere going to keep him here until their
arrangements were complete and then make awaywith them. Were they moving cautiously so
as to avoid attracting attention. Theoperative slipped his right hand toward his hip
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pocket, only to find that hisautomatic was missing it. As he settled
back with a half moan, hefelt something cold slipped into the box beside
him, and the girl's voice whispered, your revolver. I secured it when
they brought you in here. Ithought you might need it later, But
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be very careful. They must notsuspect that you have wakened. I will,
promised Mars. But who are you? Why should you take such an
interest in me? You tried tosave me from something that is worse than
death, replied the girl. Youfailed, but it was not your fault.
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Could I do less than to helpyou? But what was it?
You feared? Marriage? Marriage tothe man I loathe above all others,
the man who is responsible for theopium that is drugging my people, the
man who is known as wah Lee, but who is really an American.
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Here she hesitated for a moment andthen hissed Sprague. Sprague Marks echoed,
sitting bolt upright, But the girlhad gone swallowed up somewhere in the impenetrable
darkness which filled the room. Hisbrain cleared by the realization that he had
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blundered into the heart of the opiumrunner's den, it took Ezra only a
few seconds to formulate a plan ofaction. The first thing, of course,
was to get away, but howcould that be accomplished when he did
not even know where he was oranything about the house. The girl had
said something about the fact that theywere considering his fate. Who were they
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and where were they? Obviously theonly way to find out was to do
a little scouting on his own account. So slowly and carefully he raised himself
clear of the box like arrangements inwhich he had been placed, and tried
to figure out his surroundings. Hishand groping over the side came into almost
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instant contact with the floor, andhe found it a simple matter to step
out into what appeared to be acleared space in the center of a comparatively
large room. Then, curious asto the place where he had been concealed,
he felt the box from one endto the other. The sides were
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about two feet high and slightly sloping, with an angle near the head.
In fact, both ends of theaffair were narrower than the portion which had
been occupied by his shoulders. Piledup at either end of this box were
others of the same shape and size. What could their purpose be? Why
the odd shape? Suddenly the solutionof the mystery flashed across the operative's mind.
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Coffins, coffins which appeared to bepiled up on all sides of the
storeroom. Was this the warehouse fora Chinese undertaker? Or was it?
One coffin over which he nearly trippedgave him the answer. It was partly
filled with cans, unlabeled and quiteheavy containers, which Marx felt certain were
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packed full of opium and smuggled insome manner inside the coffins. Just as
he arrived at this conclusion, Marx'seye was caught by a tiny streak of
light filtering through the wall on theopposite side of the room. Making his
way carefully toward this, he foundthat the crack presented a fairly complete view
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of an adjoining apartment in which threeChinese, evidently of high degree, were
sorting money and entering accounts in largebooks. As he looked, a fourth
figure entered the room, a manwho caused him to catch his breath and
flatten himself against the wall, forhe recognized the larger of the two Chinamen
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who had attacked him the night before, or whenever it was. This was
the man to whom the girl hadalluded as Wah Lee, High Priest of
the Flower of Heaven, which wasmerely another way of saying that he had
charge of the opium shipments. Ashe entered, the others rose and remained
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standing until he had seated himself.Then one of them commenced to speak in
rapid, undistinguishable Chinese. Before hehad time to pronounce more than a few
words. However, Wa Lee interruptedhim with a command couched in English to
cut that out. You know Idon't understand that gibberish well enough to follow
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you. Beg pardon, replied theother. I always forget you are so
like one of us that even inprivate, I find it hard to remember.
Wa Lee said nothing, but,slipping off his silken jacket, settled
back at his ease. A momentlater, Marx was amazed to see him
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remove his mandarin's cap, and withit came a wig of coal black hair.
For the first time, the governmentagent realized what the girl had meant
when she intimated that Wa Lee andSprague were one and the same, an
American who was masquerading his Chinese inorder to further his smuggling plans. Word
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has just arrived, continued the manwho had first spoken. That the boat
will be off Point Banda tonight.That will allow us to pick up the
coffins before daybreak and bury them untilsuch time as the American hounds are off
their guard. Yes, grunted Sprague. And let's hope that soon we must
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have fifty thousand dollars worth of thestuff cashed on the other side of the
border, and orders are coming infaster than we can fill them. I
think it would be best to runthis cargo right in. We can stage
a funeral if necessary, and avoidsuspicion in that way. Wait a minute,
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I've got a hunch. What aboutthe bum we carried in here last
night, the one that tried tohelp Anita in her getaway? Anita,
Yes, my girl, I can'tremember that rigamarole. You people call her
Anita's her name from now on.He is in the next room, unconscious.
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Two of the men dumped him inone of the empty coffins and let
him stay there. Good, chuckledSprague. We'll just let him remain,
run him across the border and bringhis body back in a big hearse.
The coffin and the body will bereal, but there'll be enough cans of
dope packed in and around him andin the carriages of the mourners to make
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us all rich. It's the chanceof a lifetime for a big play,
because no one will ever suspect usor even inquire into his identity. Behind
the thin wall which separated him fromthe next room, marks stiffened, and
his fingers wound themselves even more tightlyaround the butt of his automatic. It
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is not given to many men tohear their death sentence pronounced in a manner
as dramatic and cold blooded, aswere the word words which came from the
outer apartment. By listening intently,Ezra learned that the coup would be sprung
sometime within the next few hours,the conspirator's feeling that it would not be
safe to delay, as the opiumshipment was due before dawn. Moving silently
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and aided somewhat by the fact thathis eyes had become a little accustomed to
the inky blackness, Marx made hisway back to the place where he had
awakened. He knew that that waswhere they would expect to find him,
and he also knew that this wasthe one place to avoid, so he
located the door, and, findingit bolted from the outside, placed himself
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where he would be at least partlysheltered when the party entered. After what
seemed to be an interminable time,he finally heard a sound from the hallway,
the soft slip slip of felt shoesapproaching. Then the bolt was withdrawn
and the door opened, admitting thefour men whom he had seen in the
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other room and behind them. Carryinga lantern. Came the girl, nerving
himself for a supreme leap, Markswaited until all five visitors were inside the
room, and then started a slipthrough the open doorway. But his movement
attracted the attention of the man calledSprague, and with a cry of warning,
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he wheeled and fired before the operativecould gain the safety of the hall.
Knowing that his body, outlined againstthe light from outside, would make
an ideal target, Ezra dropped tothe floor and swung his automatic into action.
As he did so, the girlextinguished the lantern with a single swift
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blow, leaving the room in totalblackness save for the path made by the
light in the hallway. For probablytwenty seconds, there wasn't a sound.
Then Marks caught a glimpse of amoving figure and fired, leaping to one
side as he did so in orderto avoid the fusillade directed at the flash
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of his revolver. By a cryfrom the other side of the room,
he knew that his shot had gonehome, and a moment later he had
an opportunity to wing another of hisassailants, again, drawing a volley of
shots, the last shot in hisclip fired with a prayer, but it
evidently went home for only silence,punctuated by moans from the opposite side of
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the room ensued that night concluded Quinn, a big sailing vessel was met off
Point Banda, and they found afull month supply of opium aboard of her.
A search of lower California near theborder also disclosed a burying ground with
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many of the graves packed with cansof the drug. The raid, of
course, was a violation of Mexicanneutrality, but they got away with it.
The girl I cut in what becameof her. When the police reached
the house a few moments after Marxhad fired the last shot, they found
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that Sprague was dead, with oneof Ezra's bullets through his brain. The
three chinamen were wounded, but notfatally. The girl, however, was
huddled in a corner dead. Noone ever discovered whether she stopped one of
the bullets from Marx's revolver or whethershe was killed by Sprague's men as a
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penalty for putting out the lantern.Undoubtedly that saved Zra's life, which was
the reason that he saw that shewas given a decent funeral and an adequate
memorial erected over her grave. Healso kept her jacket as a memento of
the affair, turning the hatchet overto me for my collection. Under it
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you will find a copy of thewire he sent the Chief. Curious,
I went over and read the yellowslip framed beneath the weapon Opium smuggled in
coffins, American at head of ringDead Gang, broken up, Opium seized?
What next? Marx didn't wait longfor another assignment, did he,
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I inquired, No, was theresponse. When you're working for Uncle Sam,
you come to find that excitement isabout the only thing that keeps your
nerves quiet. Sometimes, as inMarks's case, it's the thrill of the
actual combat, but more often it'sthe search a tangible clue, the groping
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in the dark for something you knowexists but which you can't lay your hands
on. That was the trouble withthe Chainey case. End of chapter fourteen.
Chapter fourteen, wa Lee and theFlower of Heaven. Yes, there's quite
a story attached to that, remarkedBill Quinn one evening, as the conversation
first lagged and then drifted away intosilence. We were seated in his den
at the time, the library whichhe had ornamated with the relics of a
(00:23):
score or more of cases in whichthe various governmental detective services had distinguished themselves.
And I came to with a startwhat I exclaimed, story in what
in that hatchet, the one onthe wall there that you were speculating about.
(00:44):
It didn't take a psychological sleuth tofollow your eyes and read the look
of speculation in them. That's atrick that a sparrow cop could pull.
Well. Then suppose you pay thepenalty for your wisdom and spin the yarn,
I retorted, nonetheless, glad ofthe opportunity to hear the facts behind
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the sinister red stain which appeared inthe blade of the Chinese weapon, for
I knew that Quinn could give themto me if he wished. Frankly,
I don't know the full history ofthe hatchet. Came the answer from the
other side of the fireplace. Possiblyit goes back to the Ming dynasty,
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whenever that was, or possibly itwas purchased from a mail order house in
Chicago. Chop Suey isn't the onlyChinese article made in this country, you
know, But my interest in itcommenced with the night when Ezra Marx.
However, let's start at the beginning. Marx continued. The former operative was,
(01:47):
as you probably recall, one ofthe best men ever connected with the
Custom Service. It was he whosolved the biggest diamond smuggling case on record,
and he was also responsible for thediscovery of the manner in which thirty
thousand yards of very valuable silk wasbeing run into the country every year without
(02:08):
visiting the Custom Office. That's apiece of the silk up there over the
picture of Missus Armitage. It wasn'tmany months before the affair of the Dillingham
diamonds that official Washington in general,and the offices of the Custom Service in
particular, grew quite excited over thefact that a lot of opium was finding
(02:30):
its way into California. Of course, there's always a fair amount of hop
on the market, provided you knowwhere to look for it, and the
government has about as much chance ofkeeping it out altogether as it has of
breaking up the trade of moonshine whiskey. The mountaineer is going to have his
liquor and the chink is going tohave his dope, no matter what you
(02:53):
do. But it's up to theInternal Revenue Bureau and the Custom Service to
see that neither one arrives in wholesalequantities. And that was just what was
happening on the coast. In fact, it was coming in so fast that
the price was dropping every day,and the California authorities fairly burned up the
(03:16):
wires cross continent with their howls forhelp. At that time, Marx Ezra
by name and e z by nickname, was comparatively a new member of the
force. He had rendered valuable servicein Boston, however, and the Chief
sent for him and put the wholething in his hands. Get out to
(03:39):
San Diego as quickly as you knowhow, snapped the Chief, tossing over
a sheaf of yellow telegraph slips.There's all the information we have, and
apparently you won't get much more outthere unless you dig it up for yourself.
All they seem to know is thatthe stuff is coming in by the
(04:00):
carload and is being peddled in allthe hop joints at a lower price than
ever before. It's up to youto get the details. Any help you
need will be supplied from the SanFrancisco office. But my advice is to
play a lone hand. You're likelyto get further than if you have a
gang with you all the time.That's my idea, Chief drawled Ezra,
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who hailed from Vermont and had allthe New Englander's affection for single handed effort,
not because he had the least objectionto sharing the glory, but simply
because he considered it the most efficientway to work. I'll get right out
there and see how the land lays. Needn't bother to report until you discover
something worthwhile, added the chief,I'll know that you're on the job,
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and the farther you keep away fromheadquarters, the less suspicion you're likely to
arouse. This was the reason that, beyond the fact that they knew that
an operative named Marks had been sentfrom Washington to look into the opium matter,
the government agents on the coast werecompletely in the dark as to the
(05:12):
way in which the affair was beinghandled. In fact, the Chief himself
was pretty well worried when two monthsslipped by without a word from Ezra.
But the big raw boned Yankee washaving troubles of his own. Likewise,
he took his instructions very seriously anddidn't see the least reason for informing Washington
(05:33):
of the very patent fact that hehad gotten nowhere and found out nothing.
They know where they can reach me. He argued to himself one night about
the time that the Chief began towonder if his men were floating around the
bay with a piece of Chinese ropeabout his neck. Unless I get a
(05:54):
wire, they won't hear anything untilI have at least a line on this
gang. Then, on going overthe evidence which he had collected during the
weeks that he had been in SanDiego, he found that there was extremely
little of it. Discreet questioning haddeveloped the fact which he already knew that
(06:14):
opium was plentiful all along the coast, and that presumably it was supplied from
a point in the south of thestate. But all his efforts to locate
the source of the drug brought himup against a blank wall. In order
to conduct his investigations with a minimumof suspicion. Marx had elected to enter
(06:35):
San Diego in the guise of aderelict, a character which he had played
to such perfection that two weeks afterhe arrived he found himself in court on
the charge of vagrancy. Only thefact that the presiding magistrate did not believe
in sentencing first offenders saved him fromten days in the workhouse, an opportunity
(06:58):
which he was rather sorry to miss, because he figured that he might pick
up some valuable leads from the opiumattics among his fellow prisoners. The only
new point which he had developed duringhis stay in the underworld was that some
one named Sprague, presumably an American, was the brains of the Opium ring
and had perfected the entire plan.But who Sprague was or where he might
(07:24):
be found were matters which were keptin very watchful secrecy. I give it
up, muttered the operative, shrugginghis arms into a threadbare coat and shambling
out of the disreputable rooming house whichpassed for home work. Doesn't seem to
get me anywhere. Guess I'll haveto trust to luck, and he wandered
(07:47):
out for his nightly stroll. Throughthe Chinese quarter, hoping against hope that
something would happen. It did inbunches. Possibly it was luck. Possible
it was fate, which after all, is only another name for luck,
that brought him into an especially unsavoryportion of the city shortly after midnight.
(08:11):
He had wandered along for three hoursor more, with no objective in view,
save occasional visits to dive, wherehe was known, when he heard
something which caused him to whirl andautomatically reach for his hip pocket. It
was the cry of a woman,shrill and clear, the cry of a
(08:31):
woman in mortal danger. It hadonly sounded once, but there was a
peculiar muffled quality at the end ofthe note, suggestive of a hand or
a gag having been placed over thewoman's mouth. Then silence, so still
as to be almost oppressive. Puzzled, Mark stood stock still and waited.
(08:56):
So far as he could remember,that was the first time he had heard
anything of the kind in Chinatown.He knew that there were women there,
but they were kept well in thebackground and apparently were content with their lot.
The woman who had screamed, however, was in danger of her life
(09:18):
behind one of those flimsy walls.Some drama was being enacted in defiance of
the law. Something was being donewhich meant danger of the most deadly kind
to him who dared to interfere.For a full minute, Marx weighed the
importance of his official mission against hissense of humanity. Should he take a
(09:39):
chance on losing his prey merely totry to save a woman's life. Should
he attempt to find the house fromwhich the scream had come and forced the
door? Should? But the questionwas solved for him in a manner even
more startling than the cry in thenight. While he was still debating,
(10:01):
the door of a house directly infront of him opened wide, and a
blinding glare of light spread fanwise intothe street. Across this there shot the
figure of what Marks at first tookto be a man, a figure attired
in a long, heavily embroidered jacketand silken trousers. As it neared him,
(10:24):
however, the operative sense that itwas a woman, and an instant
later he knew that it was thewoman whose stifled scream had halted him Only
a moment before. Straight toward Marx, she came, and close behind her,
their faces set in a look ofdeadly implacable rage, raced two large
(10:45):
chinamen. Probably realizing that she stoodno chance of escape in the open street,
the woman darted behind Marx and preparedto dodge her pursuers. As she
did so, the operative her pantingappeal save me, for the sake of
the God, save me. Thatwas all that was necessary. Ez were
(11:09):
sensed in an instant the fact thathe had become embroiled in what bade fair
to be a tragedy, and bracedhimself for action. He knew that he
had no chance for holding off bothmen, particularly as he did not care
to precipitate gun play, but therewas the hope that he might divert them
until the girl escaped. As thefirst of the two men leaped toward him,
(11:35):
Marx swung straight for his jaw,but his assailant ducked with what was
almost professional rapidity, and the blowwas only a glancing one. Before the
operative had time to get set,the other man was upon him, and
in utter silence, save for theirlabored breathing and dull thuds as blows went
(11:56):
home, they fought their way backto the far side of the street.
As he retreated, Marx became consciousthat, instead of making her escape,
the girl was still behind him.The reason for this became apparent when the
larger of the chinaman suddenly raised hisarm, and the light from the open
(12:18):
doorway glinted on the blade of amurderous, short handled axe, the favorite
weapon of Tong warfare, straight forhis head. The blade descended, but
the girl's arm, thrust out ofthe darkness behind him, diverted the blow,
and the hatchet fairly whistled as itpassed within an inch of his body.
(12:41):
Realizing that his only hope of safetylay in reaching the opposite side of
the sidewalk, where he would beable to fight with his back against the
wall, Marx resumed his retreat,his arms moving like flails, his fists
crashing home blows that lost much oftheir power by reason of the heavily padded
(13:01):
jackets of his opponents. Finally,after seconds that seemed like hours, one
of his blows found the jaw ofthe man nearest him, and Mars wheeled
to set himself for the onrush ofthe other, the man with the hatchet,
But just at that moment his footstruck the uneven curbing and threw him
(13:22):
off his balance. He was consciousof an arc of light as the blade
sang through the air. He hearda high, half muffled cry from the
girl beside him, and he rememberedtrying to throw himself out of the way
of the hatchet. Then there wasa stinging, smarting pain in the sight
(13:43):
of his head and in his leftshoulder, followed by the blackness of oblivion.
From nowhere, apparently a long distanceoff, there came a voice which
brought back at least a part ofthe operative's last failing consciousness, a voice
which called a name vaguely familiar tohim, Sprague. Sprague. Sprague,
(14:07):
muttered Marx, trying to collect himself. Who is Sprague? Then, as
he put it, later, hewent off. How much time elapsed before
he came to he was unable tosay, but subsequent developments indicated that it
was at least a day and anight. He hadn't the slightest idea what
(14:31):
had occurred. Meanwhile, he onlyknew that he seemed to drift back to
consciousness and to realization that his headwas splitting, as if it would burst
Mechanically. He stretched his legs andtried to rise, only to find that
what appeared to be a wooden wallclosed him in on all sides, leaving
(14:52):
an opening only directly above him.For an appreciable time, he lay still
to collect his thoughts. He recalledthe fight in the open street, the
intervention of the girl, the fallover the curb, and then there was
something that he couldn't remember, somethingvital that had occurred just after he had
(15:16):
tried to dodge the hatchet blade.Yes, he murmured as memory returned.
It was someone calling for Sprague.Sprague. Hush, came a whispered command
out of the darkness which surrounded him, and a hand, soft and very
evidently feminine, covered his mouth.You must not mention that name here.
(15:43):
It means the death, instant andterrible. They are discussing your fate in
there now. But if they hadthought that you knew wah Lee, your
life would not be worth a yen. Wah Lee. Who is he,
marks, replied, his voice pitchedin an undertone. I don't remember anywa
(16:03):
Lee, and who are you?Who I am does not matter, came
out of the darkness. But whileLee, he is the master of life
and death, the high Priest ofthe Flower of heaven. Had it not
been for him, you would havebeen dead before this. But I thought
(16:26):
that he desired your life, sohe did and does. But they have
to plan the way in which itis to be taken and the disposition which
is to be made of your body. That was what gave me my opportunity
for binding up your wound and watchingfor you to wake. In spite of
(16:47):
himself, Marx could not repress aslight shudder. So they were saving him
for the sacrifice. Eh. Theywere going to keep him here until their
arrangements were complete and then make awaywith them. Were they moving cautiously so
as to avoid attracting attention. Theoperative slipped his right hand toward his hip
(17:08):
pocket, only to find that hisautomatic was missing it. As he settled
back with a half moan, hefelt something cold slipped into the box beside
him, and the girl's voice whispered, your revolver. I secured it when
they brought you in here. Ithought you might need it later, But
(17:30):
be very careful. They must notsuspect that you have wakened. I will,
promised Mars. But who are you? Why should you take such an
interest in me? You tried tosave me from something that is worse than
death, replied the girl. Youfailed, but it was not your fault.
(17:52):
Could I do less than to helpyou? But what was it?
You feared? Marriage? Marriage tothe man I loathe above all others,
the man who is responsible for theopium that is drugging my people, the
man who is known as wah Lee, but who is really an American.
(18:15):
Here she hesitated for a moment andthen hissed Sprague. Sprague Marks echoed,
sitting bolt upright, But the girlhad gone swallowed up somewhere in the impenetrable
darkness which filled the room. Hisbrain cleared by the realization that he had
(18:37):
blundered into the heart of the opiumrunner's den, it took Ezra only a
few seconds to formulate a plan ofaction. The first thing, of course,
was to get away, but howcould that be accomplished when he did
not even know where he was oranything about the house. The girl had
said something about the fact that theywere considering his fate. Who were they
(19:03):
and where were they? Obviously theonly way to find out was to do
a little scouting on his own account. So slowly and carefully he raised himself
clear of the box like arrangements inwhich he had been placed, and tried
to figure out his surroundings. Hishand groping over the side came into almost
(19:27):
instant contact with the floor, andhe found it a simple matter to step
out into what appeared to be acleared space in the center of a comparatively
large room. Then, curious asto the place where he had been concealed,
he felt the box from one endto the other. The sides were
(19:48):
about two feet high and slightly sloping, with an angle near the head.
In fact, both ends of theaffair were narrower than the portion which had
been occupied by his shoulders. Piledup at either end of this box were
others of the same shape and size. What could their purpose be? Why
the odd shape? Suddenly the solutionof the mystery flashed across the operative's mind.
(20:17):
Coffins, coffins which appeared to bepiled up on all sides of the
storeroom. Was this the warehouse fora Chinese undertaker? Or was it?
One coffin over which he nearly trippedgave him the answer. It was partly
filled with cans, unlabeled and quiteheavy containers, which Marx felt certain were
(20:41):
packed full of opium and smuggled insome manner inside the coffins. Just as
he arrived at this conclusion, Marx'seye was caught by a tiny streak of
light filtering through the wall on theopposite side of the room. Making his
way carefully toward this, he foundthat the crack presented a fairly complete view
(21:04):
of an adjoining apartment in which threeChinese, evidently of high degree, were
sorting money and entering accounts in largebooks. As he looked, a fourth
figure entered the room, a manwho caused him to catch his breath and
flatten himself against the wall, forhe recognized the larger of the two Chinamen
(21:27):
who had attacked him the night before, or whenever it was. This was
the man to whom the girl hadalluded as Wah Lee, High Priest of
the Flower of Heaven, which wasmerely another way of saying that he had
charge of the opium shipments. Ashe entered, the others rose and remained
(21:48):
standing until he had seated himself.Then one of them commenced to speak in
rapid, undistinguishable Chinese. Before hehad time to pronounce more than a few
words. However, Wa Lee interruptedhim with a command couched in English to
cut that out. You know Idon't understand that gibberish well enough to follow
(22:11):
you. Beg pardon, replied theother. I always forget you are so
like one of us that even inprivate, I find it hard to remember.
Wa Lee said nothing, but,slipping off his silken jacket, settled
back at his ease. A momentlater, Marx was amazed to see him
(22:33):
remove his mandarin's cap, and withit came a wig of coal black hair.
For the first time, the governmentagent realized what the girl had meant
when she intimated that Wa Lee andSprague were one and the same, an
American who was masquerading his Chinese inorder to further his smuggling plans. Word
(22:56):
has just arrived, continued the manwho had first spoken. That the boat
will be off Point Banda tonight.That will allow us to pick up the
coffins before daybreak and bury them untilsuch time as the American hounds are off
their guard. Yes, grunted Sprague. And let's hope that soon we must
(23:19):
have fifty thousand dollars worth of thestuff cashed on the other side of the
border, and orders are coming infaster than we can fill them. I
think it would be best to runthis cargo right in. We can stage
a funeral if necessary, and avoidsuspicion in that way. Wait a minute,
(23:40):
I've got a hunch. What aboutthe bum we carried in here last
night, the one that tried tohelp Anita in her getaway? Anita,
Yes, my girl, I can'tremember that rigamarole. You people call her
Anita's her name from now on.He is in the next room, unconscious.
(24:03):
Two of the men dumped him inone of the empty coffins and let
him stay there. Good, chuckledSprague. We'll just let him remain,
run him across the border and bringhis body back in a big hearse.
The coffin and the body will bereal, but there'll be enough cans of
dope packed in and around him andin the carriages of the mourners to make
(24:27):
us all rich. It's the chanceof a lifetime for a big play,
because no one will ever suspect usor even inquire into his identity. Behind
the thin wall which separated him fromthe next room, marks stiffened, and
his fingers wound themselves even more tightlyaround the butt of his automatic. It
(24:52):
is not given to many men tohear their death sentence pronounced in a manner
as dramatic and cold blooded, aswere the word words which came from the
outer apartment. By listening intently,Ezra learned that the coup would be sprung
sometime within the next few hours,the conspirator's feeling that it would not be
safe to delay, as the opiumshipment was due before dawn. Moving silently
(25:19):
and aided somewhat by the fact thathis eyes had become a little accustomed to
the inky blackness, Marx made hisway back to the place where he had
awakened. He knew that that waswhere they would expect to find him,
and he also knew that this wasthe one place to avoid, so he
located the door, and, findingit bolted from the outside, placed himself
(25:44):
where he would be at least partlysheltered when the party entered. After what
seemed to be an interminable time,he finally heard a sound from the hallway,
the soft slip slip of felt shoesapproaching. Then the bolt was withdrawn
and the door opened, admitting thefour men whom he had seen in the
(26:07):
other room and behind them. Carryinga lantern. Came the girl, nerving
himself for a supreme leap, Markswaited until all five visitors were inside the
room, and then started a slipthrough the open doorway. But his movement
attracted the attention of the man calledSprague, and with a cry of warning,
(26:30):
he wheeled and fired before the operativecould gain the safety of the hall.
Knowing that his body, outlined againstthe light from outside, would make
an ideal target, Ezra dropped tothe floor and swung his automatic into action.
As he did so, the girlextinguished the lantern with a single swift
(26:53):
blow, leaving the room in totalblackness save for the path made by the
light in the hallway. For probablytwenty seconds, there wasn't a sound.
Then Marks caught a glimpse of amoving figure and fired, leaping to one
side as he did so in orderto avoid the fusillade directed at the flash
(27:15):
of his revolver. By a cryfrom the other side of the room,
he knew that his shot had gonehome, and a moment later he had
an opportunity to wing another of hisassailants, again, drawing a volley of
shots, the last shot in hisclip fired with a prayer, but it
evidently went home for only silence,punctuated by moans from the opposite side of
(27:41):
the room ensued that night concluded Quinn, a big sailing vessel was met off
Point Banda, and they found afull month supply of opium aboard of her.
A search of lower California near theborder also disclosed a burying ground with
(28:02):
many of the graves packed with cansof the drug. The raid, of
course, was a violation of Mexicanneutrality, but they got away with it.
The girl I cut in what becameof her. When the police reached
the house a few moments after Marxhad fired the last shot, they found
(28:23):
that Sprague was dead, with oneof Ezra's bullets through his brain. The
three chinamen were wounded, but notfatally. The girl, however, was
huddled in a corner dead. Noone ever discovered whether she stopped one of
the bullets from Marx's revolver or whethershe was killed by Sprague's men as a
(28:47):
penalty for putting out the lantern.Undoubtedly that saved Zra's life, which was
the reason that he saw that shewas given a decent funeral and an adequate
memorial erected over her grave. Healso kept her jacket as a memento of
the affair, turning the hatchet overto me for my collection. Under it
(29:11):
you will find a copy of thewire he sent the Chief. Curious,
I went over and read the yellowslip framed beneath the weapon Opium smuggled in
coffins, American at head of ringDead Gang, broken up, Opium seized?
What next? Marx didn't wait longfor another assignment, did he,
(29:37):
I inquired, No, was theresponse. When you're working for Uncle Sam,
you come to find that excitement isabout the only thing that keeps your
nerves quiet. Sometimes, as inMarks's case, it's the thrill of the
actual combat, but more often it'sthe search a tangible clue, the groping
(30:02):
in the dark for something you knowexists but which you can't lay your hands
on. That was the trouble withthe Chainey case. End of chapter fourteen.
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