The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1923-07-20
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dark"
How delightfully."- thriningr' COM
mented Monica He must be fright
fully brave"
The commissioner smiled grimly.
"Pennington'd tackle the devil in
carnate."
The presence of a young, beautiful
and undeniably attractive widow is
bound to cause something more than
a mild sensation in any quarter of
the globe where there happens to be
a preponderance of unattached males.
It was perfectly natural, therefore,
that Monica Whey, at such times
when her brother was occupied with
his affairs. was rarely at a loss for
a cavalier to accompany her on her
habitual excursions in search of
knowledge, after the sun was down.
At these times, however, Pennington
was never available. He came and
went and yet she had never witnessed
either his arrival or departure.
1t was during one of those evening
walks that she persuaded Dawson
a local district officer-to take her
to a gambling den.
They had been strolling ieisurely
through the native quarter, stopping
at innumerable stores and purchasing
an inordinate quantity of perfectly
useless articles. They halted pres
emily before a long building from
which, at intervals, came bursts Of
cultural chattering. At one end a
door stood half open. a patch Of vel
low light falling on the roadway.
She caught his arm impulsively
and tried to drag him toward the en-
trance, but Dawson, cautious and I'M
movable as granite, waited until there
was a lull in the stream of devotees.
He guided her through the doorway
and into a narrow cubicle screened
from the entrance hall by heavy
curtain. An elderly Chinaman, hump
backed and wizened, left the stool on
which he had been seated, nodded TO
Dawson and went out. Her escort
placed the stool in front of a narrow
slit cut in the woodwork.
Monica peered cautiously through.
There was a long table running the
whole length of the hall, round
walls seemed to be covered with crude
ly colored pictures without frames.
The whole atmosphere throbbed with
feverish activity, the rafting of dice
and spasmodic, tnarticuIare grunts
that she could not decide whether in.
tended for signs of pleasure or despair.
There were clerks in white duck, ma
tive overseers in greasy suits, coolies
with broad-brimmed hats of plated
cane and wearing only loin cloths.
A Chinaman. wearing enormous
horn-rimmed spectacles, sat at the
far end OF a big table before what
appeared to be the inverted halves
of cocoanut shells Whenever these
were lifted, there arose a repetition
Of the discordant bable she had heard
as they approached. All along both
sides, Orientals OF every class and
distinction thronged the rocking forms.
Every now and then a man rose.
seemingly emotionless, and left the
table.
Monica, the novelty Of this strange
scene holding her enthralled, allowed
her gaze to wander round the room.
Presently it fell upon the form Of an
Oriental in a suit OF greasy blue
whose face seemed peculiarly familiar.
Every time a player from the top va
Gated his seat, this enthusiastic gam
bier moved into 1t, In this manner
getting gradually nearer to the man
with the horn-rimmed spectacles who
manipulated the shells. Presently he
looked up at the swinging oil lamp
and Monica uttered a little cry. In
/ spite OF the elaborate disguise. there
was something in the set OF the mobile
mouth, something in the poise of the
shoulders that betrayed him. She
found her lips forming the words
| Chinese Pennington"
A moment later and he had reached
the apparent zenith of his desire. His
elbow touched the sleeve OF the man
who presided, but his eyes were star
ing straight before him at an euor-
nous Chinaman who sat opposite.
both hands resting on the table. the
fingers slightly closed
For some reason that she could not
quite define, a mental picture began
forming in her mind; a picture that
the vividness of Pennington's descrip-
ton had impressed on her memory.
She saw glade in the night-shrouded
jungle wastes, huddled form with a
long knife protruding from between
hunched-up shoulder blades-and he
who sees in the dark struggling for
dear life in the matted underground.
Her vivid imagination had already
| established the identity of the man
who now faced the hero Of her ro-
nance. Behind her she heard Daw-
son strike a match and puff strenu-
ously at his pipe. And then, through
the nebulous smoke-haze, the three
principal figures at the top end Of
the long table stood out in bold re-
lief from the surging background or
negligible supers.
In a moment Of time the thing
happened. The man opposite Pen
nington slid a yellow hand toward
the Chinaman in the horn spectacles,
as If trying to pass him the some