Plentywood herald. [volume] (Plentywood, Mont.) 1908-current, 1930-08-14
published by special arrangement With TIL,
Chicago Tribune 6yndicate)
IN TWO PARTS-PART TWO


-
IN TWO PARTS-PART TWO
THEY stared at each other; FOUL
cursed each other. Their face
were distorted with fury. Thei
oblique, implacable eyes met, clasheC
Then, at the same moment, both mel
leaped. They grappled; scratched, tore
AT last the Chinese interfered. The,
separated them and led them on
through different doors.
They met again that evening nea,
the corner of Pell street: fought agail
with the Bowery hoodlums lookins
on and laughing.
SO they fought, almost hysterica
with weakness and rage, until present
ly there was a cry of, Cheese it! d.
copS!"-and principals and audienc,
ran away.
But there was one Grover G. Flu, f;
half caste detective attached to secon(
branch. who had his ears to the China
town pavement; who knew that man,
a tong war had started with an or
binary row-then a killing by SOM
hired Ratchet man, more killings. {
feud, Chinatown divided into armed
camps. So that same evening he mad,
the rounds. He dropped in on the diff
ferent tongs, visited the Golden Dragon
guild. the Azure Dragon guild, thu
Guild of the Four Companies, and tn,
Honorable Pavilion of Tranquil Lon
gevity. Wherever he went he CAV,
wary notice. He had his eyes peeled
he told them-and wanted no dirty
bloody Ratchet men racket.
The Chinese listened politely. The.
smiled. They offered him tea ant
cigarets. They replied:
mi tap chic che lok-you are OF
the wrong train"
We'll" rejoined the detective, 'se,
to it that I keep on being on the wrong
train!" And he winked at them a
Greek is said to wink at Greek.
Either his apprehensions wer'
groundless or his warning fell On fruit
full soil. For Chinatown continued
quietly squeezing the nickels and shaw
ing the dimes, driving shoddy bargains
amidst the ruts and grooves of it
patched pavements, living the yellow
sluggish flow of its life. Nor was there
a renewal of the fight, although thu
former partners met frequently-ant
the detective, tramping his nightly beat
saw nothing except the things which
he had seen these many years.
Late one evening, hugging thu
blotchy shadows of a postern, he saw
a man and a woman in each other!
arms.
II love your said the man In SIM
song Cantonese, his words fraugh
with a high, driving tenderness.
and I love you, oh my lord!'
The detective shrugged his shoulders
He passed on his way.
II love you'll" said the girl again
She was Si-Si; and the man with hel
was Shen Mok, the young laundryman
Il do! But run away with you-hov
can I-?"
IF you really loved NE"
II do! I do! But there is my dut,
to my parents. They are poor. / mus
marry a rich man."
Suddenly she burst into tears; an(
Yu Chang, the priest, who was passing
heard and walked up. He asked
straight question; received a Straigh
answer.
Yes, said Shen Mok, Si-Si loved hin
and he loved her. There was nothing
nothing, nothing he would not do fOl
her sake. But, eighty thousand dol
lars! Fanny Nag demanded eight.
thousand dollars; he was a poor man
working hard for little money; ant
where was he going to get such a sum
THE Buddha will provided" replied
Yu Chang.
He spoke unctiously, being a priest
yet with a deep, ringing sincerely. Hi
faith was pure and simple. Never hat
doubt invaded his soul.
He walked toward the joss tempt
that jutted out Slightly from the neigh
boring houses. 1t was an ugly build
ing, squat, red debauched, grimy. But
inside, it was a thing OF glowing beauty
For an older generation of Chinese
not yet come under Americas moder1
sway and spell, had brought her
precious offerings and laid them at tn
altar of the huge, gilt Buddha sittin
cross-legged on his carved lotus pedes
tai. There were here age old bronze
and embroideries and carved pieces @
amber and cornnelian and jade.
But most lovely and precious was
set of half a cozen pale blue Suen
tin Ming bowls with fine red ifs
nodded as handles. This set alone wa
worth a small fortune. So Paris
Jones, the Fifth avenu curio dealer
proving around Chinatown in scare
of bargains, had told Yu Chang sew
eral times, insisting the bowls Shout
be in a museum; asking him to nam
his %price--to receive ever the sam
reply:
How a I sell them? They al
not mine. They belong to the Buddha,
We'll" Parrish Jones would sugges
ANY time you feel like changing you
mind"
The priest picked up the bowls nov
He heaped them with dry rice and pl
the offering tremendously in front {
the altar.