The midland journal., 1903-09-04
: SS9TVIVOVGVG'tJ
! THE LUCK !
on By r. X.
A=EHEk SCRIBNER 3
wv ~ Copyright, 1908, by 9
F. K. Seribner
'eceoeCsoecOs0eCeGo0e,
T ACK HAROLD had been doing

EACK HAROLD had been doing
the famous Chinatown Of San
Francisco and felt bit aggriev'
ed that his experiences had been
SO tame. The noXious quarters were
not so much worse than old Mott street
of his New York home. Finally he
turned down a dark alley which he
Judged would bring him out upon one
of the more populous thoroughfares
when his footsteps were suddenly
checked by the sounds of scuffle In
the darkness before him. There was a
labor of strained breathing, then a
stified cry and the clatter Of flying feet
on the pavement. Then he became
conscious that he was not alone in the
alley. that there was man somewhere
ahead of him and that all was not as ii
should be. Swallowing his misgivings,
he CROPPED his way forward until he al
most stumbled over body in the dark
ness.
From q ramshackle house near by
shone light. He sprang up the mar
row steps and shook the door vigorous
ly. 1t was pulled open few inches
and a face appeared in the opening
the face of woman aged before it's
time, scanned by lines of dissipation,
with bloodshot eyes and leer about
the corners of the mouth.
"What do you want?" she said sharp.
ly.
"Some one has been hurt. There has
been a fight and"-
The woman gave a coarse laugh.
"What's that to me?"
"But you will take money" he said,
taking silver dollar from his pocket
"All. 1 want is light. believe the
man is dying"
At the word money the woman threw
open the door.
The more fool you," she cried. "a
dollar for light! Well, take it,
She followed him to where the inert
bundle lay near the middle Of the alley.
1t was Chinaman, better dressed than
those usually seen in that quarter.
Harold bent down and felt for the
heart beat. The breast was wet. The
woman peered over his shoulder.
"Highbinders," said she calmly,
stabbed him and cut off his cue."
Harold hcsitated. He isn't dead"
said he. Can't we carry him inside"
"And have me pulled for murder?
You're a green 'un,'' sneered the wom-
an.
Their voices aroused the half con-
scious Chinaman, and evidently he
thought that the Highbinders had come
back 10 finish their work, for he cried
out in his own language. Then, catch
ing sight of the face of the American,
he dropped into broken English. His
voice was very faint, but Harold caught
his words. There was something about
money, broken pledges and the venge.
ance Of the Joss god. The woman in
terrupted him.
He'll never get through at that
rate said she. LET me talk to him."
They went at it for five minutes in
the barbarous "pidgin'' Of the locality,
the woman pointing from Harold to
the lamp and talking very rapidly
Presently the Chinaman smiled and
gasped, "Sabe good" Little else Of the
talk could Harold make out.
Tell him." said he, that I'll get him
out of here, anywhere he says"
He wants to thank you," said she.
"He knows he's going to die. He says
that you are his friend, and he wants
to give you something. That's the way
with them. If it's money
''NO Hollnn ~ hrolyo In tho duipn rooy,
mo tlaid, sabe."
The Chinaman held up his hand, mo-
tioning the woman to come nearer.
ITS only one Of them Chink gods,
luck god" she translated presently,
though it amt done much for him in
that line, leastwise not tonight. He
says he disobeyed some law or other
and that it went back on him. But he
thinks that it will stick to you all right,
as you are not mixed up with the
Highbinders. He wants you to keep it
and to carry it with you, and you
mustn't give it away unless you want
to bring bad luck on yourself"
Harold took the Image, quaint bit
of carving not without a certain fan
tastic merit.
''Tell him I'll keep it," said he; "that
I'm very much obliged for his joss
god and that some day perhaps 1t will
bring me luck when am down."
There was the sound of heavy foot
steps coming up the alley. The woman
snatched the lamp from Harold's hand
and darted into the house, slamming
the door behind her
''The police" said she.
Jack Harold found himself IN Pete
Williams big gambling den late In his
first evening in Oregon. In his college
days he had been famous poker
player, and presently the infectious
charm of the great American game
had taken hold on him again. At the
table with him sat half drunken
miner, a beardless youth from a ru-
raj town down the coast and two
evil faced Cinnamon. Already the lat
ter had pocketed snug sum Of their
fellow players money, and they smiled
slyly when Harold took the vacant
seat
The game went on quietly for an
hour with about equal success to Har-
old and the Celestials. Then came a