The Bismarck tribune. [volume] (Bismarck, N.D.) 1916-current, 1923-08-18
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y The Silver Hand 81
BY Edmund Smell.

steel blade and yellow handle or.
namented with black dots. He
stopped and recovered it; as he did
so he recognized the grim sign of
the Yellow Seven.
Moofhouse was not little sur
prised when, emerging from his room
at shortly after seven, he caught
sight of long, youthful figure com->
fortably installed in the only easy
chair the bungalow possessed.
Morning, Moorhouse!"
The d. o. laughed.
"Hullo, Pennington! When the
deuce did you roll up?"
Chinese Pennington stretched him.
self and sat up.
ooh, somewhere in the early hours.
Met your black chow in the garden.
He was barking at the moon-and
the few odd shouts he did on my ac-
count didn't appear to make much
difference"
He moved his legs to one side and
the magistrate squatted down on the
foot-rest.
"Not too bad. had an interesting
piece of news last night. I've struck
black girl who's promised to guide
US to ChaiHung"
Pennington pursed up his lips.
women are the very deuce!" he
declared. I'D like to be reasonably
sure-before embark upon this
campaign-that your lady friend
isn't contemplating leading US to the
devil" j
The Oriental eyes that had some
how found their way into purely
Anglo-Saxon countenancc wandered
slowly round the walls.
"Pm inclined to put my shirt on
this particular GIRL" said Moorhouse,
and told him the story of the silver
hand.
All through the narrative the man
with the Chinese eyes kept them
fixed upon his host.
$50 that's your heroine!" he re-
marked as the other concluded.
The magistrate started.
"Know herr"
81 rather imagine do. She's
Dyak girl who drifted into B. N. B.
from Sarawak. A rather unique
character with a touch of white blood
in her veins. As far as I remember,
she had billet once with the Sultan
of Brunei and possibly boned those
hands from his treasure-house when
he engaged another premiere dam
seuse."
"Why did he fire her?"~
II gather she was rather a dis
turbing element in his household,
with marked leaning toward in
trigue. Hewitt could tell you more
about her than I can. He had her
name on his books for some time,
but decided there was screw loose
somewhere-and let her go Guaya!
She's certainly remarkable wo.
mani"
"Guaya?"
"That's her name-or rather, she
says it's her name."
Moorhouse's jaw dropped.
"All things considered, L suppose
we'd better wash her out of it alto
gether and try and get smack at
Chai-Hung through other channels p
Chinese Pennington sprang to his
feet and began pacing the veranda.
"That. depends" he jerked out
suddenly. I'm some respects l believe
her to be straight. She appears to
have taken fancy to your honest,
open countenance!"
The district officer grinned.
Pennington halted in the center Of
the floor.
GAS l told you before, Moorhouse,
women are the very devil-when
they're as clever as Guaya is and
have taken q rooted dislike to one.
You can take it from me the knife's
authentic enough. The only snag in
the whole proceedings appears to Be
that Chat Hung may have intended
her to bring it here with the happy
notion of enticing us into his
clutches"
1--WE could keep our eyes open for
anything in the nature of an am
bush. Frankly, Penn, I'm inclined
to give it trial. saw the silver
hands myself; Chai-Hung had no rea-
SON to believe was. aware of his
presence in my area-and he certain
ly would be the last to advertise
it,"
Pennington perched himself on
the edge Of the table.
"Good enough!" he declared. "WeIl
make the experiment and rope in
old Dawson into the bargain"
+ Moorhouse left the veranda five
minutes later to complete his toilet.
As he drew the comb from the leather
case where it reposed in company
with the brushes, his finger touched
something that was wound in be-
tween the teeth. He released it
gingerly and stepped toward the
open window. Even in the DINNER
recesses Of the room he had under
stood the significance of the seven
black circles daubed upon yellow
card the size. and shape of his fore
finger!
At the ''spot where two forest
tracks crossed, solitary, squat hut
rose from the waist-high lalang. Pen
nington caught Moorhouse's arm and
pulled him down beside. him.
STEADY on, old son! Don't take
any chances"
4 Dawson-a short, red-faced man
Of uncertain age and inclined to-
stoutness, crawled up to them on his
hands and knees.
Hanged if / like this game, Penn!
I've collected about as many thorns
as porcupine has quilts"
CONTINUED In Our Next Issue)
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runaway early last week is doing as