CHAPTER IX THE MYSTERIOUS CHINESE
On the night following the first clean-up, Ben was awakened about midnight. He had been sleeping so heavily that for some minutes after awakening he did not realize where he was. Then the outlines of the rough walls of the room and the regular breathing of Mundon recalled him to his surroundings. He was too wide-awake to sleep again, and he reviewed the events of the day, and then fell to speculating upon the plans for the morrow.
Suddenly he sat bolt upright, every faculty alert. There was a sound of stealthy footsteps in the outer room.
Ben knew now the cause of his sudden awakening. Some one had entered the building, and was creeping about searching for—what? “The gold!” he instantly replied to the question.
Ben knew that Mundon had placed the gold in a box underneath his bunk. There was so little of it as yet that this had been thought to be a sufficiently safe place.
Should he awaken Mundon? It hardly seemed necessary. He crept from his bed and crossed the room to the door. The stealthy footsteps could be heard at intervals, as though the person constantly paused to listen. The noise appeared to come from the corner of the building in which the “jigger” was situated; and Ben concluded that the man was searching there for the gold. Feeling that he could keep quiet no longer, Ben grasped Mundon’s arm.
“Hush!” he whispered. “Don’t speak! Some one’s out there—looking for the gold!”
Mundon was thoroughly awake in an instant. Together they crept to the door. The noise suddenly ceased, and there followed a long interval of silence.
“I’m afraid we’ve frightened him off,” whispered Mundon.
Just then a slight sound told them that the burglar was still there. A flash of light through the cracks of the door told them that he carried a dark lantern.
“Be ready!” Mundon directed. “I’ll unlock the door and we’ll rush for the gates!”
He unlocked the door and the partners tore across the rough floor to the gates. They were somewhat surprised to find them locked.
“Who’s there? Stop, or I’ll fire!” cried Ben.
They listened, trying to locate the intruder in the darkness; but the silence following this challenge remained unbroken.
“He must hev run up the beach to climb the bulkhead,” said Mundon. “I’ll go out and head him off. You stay here and watch. If he’s hidin’ here, and makes a sound, you call me.”
Left alone in the darkness, Ben fancied several times that he heard the burglar moving in the black shadows of the interior. But a careful investigation, with the aid of a lantern when Mundon returned, proved that the place was empty.
“I don’t see how he could hev got over that bulkhead so quick,” Mundon remarked, as he related his unsuccessful attempt to capture the man. “Must hev ben mighty lively, and an acrobat in the bargain, to git out of sight in that time. Let’s see what mischief he’s ben up to.”
The “jigger” was undisturbed, but they found footprints in the moist ground near the furnace.
“Mebbe he came in a boat,” Mundon suddenly suggested. “Mebbe he wasn’t after our gold at all.”
Ben stared in surprise. “Not after the gold!” he exclaimed. “Then what in thunder was he after?”
“Can’t you guess?”
“No.”
“Well, I was thinkin’ that mebbe there’s more opium hidden away here that we ain’t found.”
“Opium!”
“Well, we found one lot here. Why shouldn’t we find some more. Who’s to say that we found all there was stowed here?”
“They would have taken it away before this.”
“How could they? They didn’t dare come back while there was a chance of them Custom House fellers bein’ ’round. And lately we haven’t let this place out our sight.”
“That’s so,” replied Ben. “You think there’s more opium hidden somewhere round this furnace?”
“That’s it.”
“Well, I’ll take out those loose bricks in the morning—those on the side next the water, that we didn’t touch.”
In the morning a thorough search was made, but no opium was found. No satisfactory explanation of the presence of the midnight visitor offered itself, but matters of greater importance soon occupied the thoughts of the partners.
News of the venture spread. The scoop was read by thousands, and many of the curiously inclined were attracted to the spot.
On the second day the crowd was so large that Ben was compelled to close the gates. There were several reporters, who took notes, photographed Ben and the interior of the building, and interviewed the partners as to their enterprise.
Although Ben was feeling better, he was not entirely at ease. The whole thing seemed so theatrical. It was like working on the stage of a theater. Besides, he was not yet assured of success.
While the presence of spectators was flattering, it was rather embarrassing to the workmen. They would have preferred to have made their clean-up without an audience. Skepticism, along with curiosity, was written on the faces of all. And, like all sensation-seekers, they withheld any decided opinion until the result should be known.
In imagination Ben could already hear the jeering laughter of the crowd over his failure, and this added to his nervousness. His cheeks were flushed with excitement, and he stole over to where Beth and little Sue were standing and said in an anxious whisper, “It’s just awful not to know how it’s going to pan out!”
When at length the crucial moment arrived, and he saw Mundon scoop up some particles of yellow metal with one hand while with the other he waved his hat, everything seemed to swim before Ben’s eyes.
The crowd gave a hearty cheer, in which he joined as if in a dream.
It was pleasant to be congratulated; and it must be confessed that the boy miner enjoyed being looked upon as a marvel of enterprise.
Old Madge appeared to be wonderfully interested in the proceedings; and Ben did not quite like the expression of his countenance when he looked upon the gold. Neither did he like a look of envy which could be seen upon the faces of some others.
“Can’t please everybody,” Ben said to himself, with a shrug. “Some people never like to see any one else succeed.”
The rest of it was pleasant enough. There was a sort of Fourth-of-July excitement about it that was most exhilarating.
After the last hanger-on had gone and the gates were shut for the night, Mundon remarked that he would go down-town to get a new fitting that was needed.
“We got twice as much gold to-day as we did yesterday,” he said as he turned to go. “Mebbe we’ll get twice as much as this to-morrer—it’s bound to vary. But, anyway, we’re all right. Well, so long! I’ll be back inside of an hour.”
“So long!” Ben replied.
Left alone on the scene of his triumph, Ben surveyed the mass of rubbish and endeavored to estimate how much it would yield.
He had supposed himself to be alone, and was surprised to see a Chinaman standing in the opening above the little strip of beach.
“What do you want here?” Ben demanded.
“I come to see you on business,” the man replied in excellent English.
“How’d you get here?”
“O, I come in when other people come; and I wait till your partner go, because I want to see you alone.”
With a quick motion of his arm the man threw back one of his voluminous sleeves and pointed with his claw-like fingers to the roof and walls. Ben noted that his dress marked him as a member of the ordinary merchant class of Chinese.
“You work with the bricks and dirt,” he said, pointing to the piles of rubbish. “What you intend to do with building?”
Ben’s suspicions were aroused. “He wants to drive some bargain with me about that opium business,” he thought.
“O, I’ll sell it for lumber to some builder, I guess,” he indifferently replied.
“Not worth very much.”
“No; not very much.”
“I notice you have plenty of room here; so I think perhaps you like to rent this place to me to store my goods.” He darted one of his capacious sleeves inside his blouse and drew forth a card, which he handed to Ben.
“I give you my card.”
Ben glanced at the card. “Ng Quong Lee, Fruitpacker; Factory, 792 Jackson Street,” it read.
“I shall be here for only a short time,” Ben said. “The lease of this building expires in a few months. Besides, you couldn’t store anything here; there are too many holes in the walls and roofs.”
“O, that wouldn’t matter,—my goods are canned. My factory too crowded at this time of year. Fruit season now, you know. For a few months I like to rent another place.”
“I’m sorry I can’t accommodate you,” Ben said, turning away, “but I need all the place myself.”
“I give you thirty dollars a month,” the Chinese said, with a shrewd glance.
This offer increased Ben’s suspicion, and he flatly refused to consider it.
“You make too much money,” the other said in conclusion. “You too rich, I think. Well, I leave my card. Perhaps some time you come to see me. Some time,” he looked Ben squarely in the face, “if Mr. Fish make you trouble, you come to see me.” With which enigmatical remark he politely bowed and took his departure.
“I wonder what he was after and what he meant by that last?” Ben reflected, when he had fastened the gates after his strange visitor. “There’s something wrong about it, or he wouldn’t offer me thirty dollars a month for a part of this crazy old shed. He’ll wait a long time, I’m thinking, before he receives a call from me.”
After thinking the matter over, Ben concluded not to mention it to Mundon. He was afraid he might urge him to accept it, and this he did not wish to do.