Blindfolded by Earle Ashley Walcott (best affordable ebook reader TXT) 📖

apologetically. "It's the first time I ever knew anything of the kind to happen." And he went on to explain that while the Chinese desperado is a devil to fight among his own kind, he does not interfere with the white man.

I called my men aside and spoke sharply.

"You haven't obeyed orders," I said. "You, Porter, and you, Barkhouse, were to keep close by me to-night. You didn't do it, and it's only by good luck that the young lady and I were not killed. You, Wainwright, were to follow Tom Terrill. I saw Terrill just now in a gang of Chinese, and you turn up on the other side of a barred door."

Porter and Barkhouse looked sheepish enough, but Wainwright protested:

"I was following Terrill when he gets into a gang of highbinders, and goes into one of these rooms over here a ways. I waits a while for him, and then starts to look around a bit, and first I knows, I runs up against Porter here hunting for an ax, and crazy as a loon, saying as how you was murdered, and they had got to save you."

"Well, just keep close to me for the rest of the night, and we'll say no more about it. There's no great damage done--nothing but a sore knuckle." I was feeling now the return effects of my blow on the coolie's chin. I felt too much in fault myself to call my attendants very sharply to task. It was through me that Luella had come into danger, and I had to confess that I had failed in prudence and had come near to paying dear for it.

"I don't understand this, Mr. Wilton," said Corson in confidential perplexity. "I don't see why the haythen were after yez."

"I saw--I saw Tom Terrill," said I, stumbling over the name of Doddridge Knapp. I determined to keep the incident of his appearance to myself.

"I don't see how he worked it," said Corson with a shake of the head. "They don't like to stand against a white man. It's a quare tale he must have told 'em, and a big sack he must have promised 'em to bring 'em down on ye. Was it for killin' ye they was tryin', or was they for catchin' yez alive?"

"They were trying to take us alive at first, I think, but the bullets whistled rather close for comfort."

"I was a little shaky myself, when they plunked against the door," said Corson with a smile.

"Oh, Mr. Wilton," said Mrs. Bowser, "it was awful of you--for it was so frightfully improper to get behind that locked door, to say nothing of throwing us all into conniptions with firing guns, and calling for axes, and highbinders, and police, and Heaven knows what all--and what are highbinders, Mr. Wilton? And it's a blessing we have our dear Luella safe with us again. I was near fainting all the time, and it's a mercy I had a smelling bottle."

"Dear Luella" looked distressed, and while Corson was attempting to explain to Mrs. Bowser the nature of the blackmailing bands of the Chinese criminal element, Luella said:

"Please get us out of this. I can't stand it."

I had marveled at her calm amid the excited talk of those about her, but I saw now that it was forced by an effort of her will. She was sadly shaken.

"Take my arm," I said. "Mr. Corson will lead the way." I signed to Porter to go ahead and to Barkhouse and Wainwright to follow me. "It's very close here."

"It's very ridiculous of me," said Luella, with an hysterical laugh, "but I'm a little upset."

"I dare say you're not used to it," I suggested dryly.

Luella gave me a quick glance.

"No, are you? It's not customary in our family," she said with an attempt at gaiety.

I thought of the wolf-figure who had come out of the opium-den, and the face framed in the lantern-flash of the alley, and was silent. Perhaps the thought of the scene of the passage had come to her, too, for she shuddered and quickened her step as though to escape.

"Do you want to go through the theater?" asked Corson.

"No--no," whispered Luella, "get me home at once."

"We have seen enough sights for the evening, I believe," said I.

Mrs. Bowser was volubly regretful, but declined Corson's offer to chaperon her through a night of it.

On the way home Luella spoke not a word, but Mrs. Bowser filled the time with a detailed account of her emotions and sensations while Corson and his men were searching for us and beating down the door. And her tale was still growing when the carriage pulled up before the bronze lions that guarded the house of the Wolf, and I handed the ladies up the steps.

At the door Luella held out her hand impulsively.

"I wish I knew whom to thank--but I do thank him--for my safety-- perhaps for my life. Believe me--I am grateful to a brave man."

I felt the warm clasp of her fingers for a moment, and then with a flash of her eyes that set my blood on fire she was gone, and I was staggering down Doddridge Knapp's steps in a tumult of emotions that turned the dark city into the jeweled palaces of the genii peopled with angels.

But there was a bitter in the sweet. "I wish I knew whom to thank." The bitter grew a little more perceptible as her phrases stamped themselves on my brain. I blessed and cursed at once the day that had brought me to her.


CHAPTER XIX

A DEAL IN STOCKS

The wolf-face, seamed with hatred and anger, and hideous with evil passions, that had glowered for a moment out of the smoky frame of the Chinese den, was still haunting me as I forced myself once more to return to the office. Wednesday morning had come, and I was due to meet Doddridge Knapp. But as I unlocked the door, I took some comfort in the reflection that I could hardly be more unwilling to meet the Wolf than he must be to meet me.

I had scarcely settled myself in my chair when I heard the key turn in the lock. The door swung open, and in walked Doddridge Knapp.

I had thought to find at least some trace of the opium debauch through which I had gained the clue to his strange and contradictory acts--some mark of the evil passions that had written their story upon his face at the meeting in the passage. But the face before me was a mask that showed no sign of the experiences through which he had passed. For all that appeared, he might have employed the time since I had left here two days before in studying philosophy and cultivating peace and good- will with his neighbors.

"Ah, Wilton," he said affably, rubbing his hands with a purring growl. "You're ready for a hard day's work, I hope."

"Nothing would please me better," I said cheerfully, my repugnance melting away with the magnetism of his presence. "Is the black flag up today?"

He looked at me in surprise for an instant and then growled, still in good humor:

"'No quarter' is the motto to-day." And I listened closely as the King of the Street gave his orders for the morning.

I marveled at the openness and confidence with which he seemed to treat me. There was no trace nor suggestion in his demeanor to-day of the man who sought my life by night. And I shuddered at the power of the Black Smoke to change the nature of this man to that of a demon. He trusted me with secrets of his campaign that were worth millions to the market.

"You understand now," he said at the end of his orders, "that you are to sell all the Crown Diamond that the market will take, and buy all the Omega that you can get below one hundred."

"I understand."

"We'll feed Decker about as big a dose as he can swallow, I reckon," said the King of the Street grimly.

"One thing," I said, "I'd like to know if I'm the only one operating for you."

The King of the Street drew his bushy brows down over his eyes and scowled at me a moment.

"You're the only one in the big Board," he said at last. "There are men in the other Boards, you understand."

I thought I understood, and sallied forth for the battle. At Doddridge Knapp's suggestion I arranged to do my business through three brokers, and added Lattimer and Hobart to Wallbridge, and Bockstein and Eppner.

Bockstein greeted me affably:

"Velgome to de marget vonce more, Mr.--, Mr.--"

"Wilton," said Eppner, assisting his partner in his high, dry voice, with cold civility. His blue-black eyes regarded me as but a necessary part of the machinery of commerce.

I gave my orders briefly.

"Dot is a larch order," said Bockstein dubiously.

"You don't have to take it," I was about to retort, when Eppner's high-pitched voice interrupted:

"It's all right. The customary margin is enough."

Wallbridge was more enthusiastic.

"You've come just in the nick of time," said the stout little man, swabbing his bald head from force of habit, though the morning was chill. "The market has been drier than a fish-horn and duller than a foggy morning. You saved me from a trip to Los Angeles. I should have been carried off by my wife in another day."

"You have got Gradgrind's idea of a holiday," I laughed.

"Gradgrind, Gradgrind?" said the little man reflectively. "Don't know him. He's not in the market, I reckon. Oh, I'm death on holidays! I come near dying every day the Board doesn't meet. When it shut up shop after the Bank of California went to the wall, I was just getting ready to blow my brains out for want of exercise, when they posted the notice that it was to open again."

I laughed at the stout broker's earnestness, and told him what I wanted done.

"Whew!" he exclaimed, "you're in business this time, sure. Well, this is just in my line."

Lattimer and Hobart, after a polite explanation of their rules in regard to margins, and getting a certified check, became obsequiously anxious to do my bidding.

I distributed the business with such judgment that I felt pretty sure our plans could not in any way be exposed, and took my place at the rail in the Boardroom.

The opening proceedings were comparatively tame. I detected a sad falling-off in the quality and quantity of lung power and muscular activity among the buyers and sellers in the pit.

At the call of Confidence, Lattimer and Hobart began feeding shares to the market. Confidence dropped five points in half a minute, and the pit began to wake up. There was a roar and a growl that showed me the animals were still alive.

The Decker forces were taken by surprise, but with a hasty consultation came gallantly to the rescue of their stock. At the close of the call they had forced it back and one point higher than at the opening.

This, however, was but a skirmish of outposts. The fighting began at the call of Crown Diamond.

It opened at sixty-three. The first bid was hardly made when with a bellow Wallbridge charged on Decker's broker, filled his bid,