Perth Amboy evening news., 1923-08-02
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This unusual series of stories deals
with the exploits of Chinese" Pen
nington, a detective SEN by his gov
eminent to British North Borneo
to run to earth The Yellow Seven.
a gang of Chinese bandits. ,
The mar with the iron gray hair
who was writing at a table under
the swinging oil lamp, looked up
and his y fell upon the figure of
a tall Chinaman who had come
noiselessly to the top of the steps
that led to the veranda. The in
truder was as dark-skinned as a
Dyak, and an ugly scar ran the
Ehole length of one cheek. Hyde,
ed at him, classed him as a
n of n of those many tribes
of ,er-folk created by a fusion
of Oriental and Dusun blood.
He pushed back his chair and con-
Sfronted the newcomer.
"Well?" he demanded in fluent
Malay. "What the devil d'you
want?"
The ~scarecrow's features pucker-
ed into a grin,
"As a matter of fact, Hyde" he
drawled in good English, I'm in
need of many things. I'm deuced
hungry, for one; my throat's a good
deal drier than 1 like it to be, and
I'd be grateful for a decent suit of
whites"
The planter scratched his head.
What the! Who, are you, any,
way?"
Pennington" said the other
humbly. Peter Pennington. COM
monty referred to as Chinese Pen
nington,"
Good Lord" He scrutinized the
younger mans features. Presently
he extended a hand and Pennington
gripped it hard.
A quarter-of-an-hour later both
men sat facing one another, a glass
resting in the aperture made in the
arm of each chair for that purpose.
As the mar with the gray hair look
ed across at his guest, he could not
refrain from wondering at the COM
~pleteness of the transformation. The
swarthy complexion, scar, every
thing was gone except the one great
asset that made Chinese Pennington
the most dreaded of all detectives In
Borneo-that strange, ~unaccount-
able set of the eyes that made him
look as If his origin had been part
ly Chinese.
There's a hundred-and-one ques-
tons on the tip of my tongue" he
said shifting a cigar to the corner
of his mouth. What's puzzling me
most, | suppose, is the motive that's
brought you here"
"Cnai-Hung!"
The planter almost jumped from
his chair.
But, man alive, I had a chit from
the commissioner, ages ago. saying
that Chai-Hung was dead"
- Pennington smiled blandly.
I'VE all thought so-once; but
that was before we realized the pc.
culiar properties of the man with
whom rye had to deal. You remem
Der the Yellow Seven scare, when NJ
white mar dared go out alone. .wher
we all began digging out fire arms
the very existence of which we't
forgotten? That was Mr.. Chai-Hung
He'd organized practically the entir.
Chinese population and a score O
times I thought I'd u him t.
earth, only to discover that the in,
herent cunning of his race had sue,
ceeded in finding a loophole in tn,
wall I'd built around him."
The planter emptied his glass.
That's all wonderfully interest
ing" he said slowly, "but I still don
see"
why I chose to invade you,
bungalow like a thief in the night
Ell? I am on a game of hare ant
hounds-a form of paper-chase tina
q schoolboy might be beguiled into
Only the scent isn't laid in bits o
torn paper-it's iblazed-positi,+l,
blazed-in Japanese FANS
"Fans?"
Sounds idiotic, doesn't it? blu
it's true enough. The trail led m
heFe-and then stopped abruptly.
what are they like-these fans !?
"Just ordinary affairs-a films,
frame and a handle of polished can
with some sort of light materia
stretched across-and a picture OF
st."