Dark and narrow streets; fat, round paper
lanterns here and there above dim doorways; silent forms,
soft-shuffling, warily alert.
"Wait one minee," said Po Lun. "I find 'em door."
Following the Chinaman were Captain Lees, with his half a dozen "plain
clothes men," Benito, Robert and the mail inspector. Presently Po spoke
again. "Jus' alound co'ne'" (corner), he whispered. "Me go ahead. Plitty
soon you come. You hea' me makem noise ... allee same cat."
Lees descried him as he paused before a dimly lighted door. Evidently he
was challenged; gave a countersign. For the door swung back. Po Lun
passed through. Nothing happened for a time. Then a piercing feline wail
stabbed through the night.
"M-i-i-a-o-w-r-r-r!"
Lees sprang forward, pressed his weight against the partly-open portal;
flashed his dark lantern on two figures struggling violently. His hand
fell on the collar of Po Lun's antagonist; a policeman's "billy" cracked
upon his skull. "Tie and gag him," said the captain. "Leave a man on
guard.... The rest of you come on."
Po Lun leading, they went, single file through utter blackness. Now and
then the white disc of Lees' lantern, now in Po Lun's hand, gleamed like
a guiding will-o-wisp upon the tortuous path.
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