Maku was sitting but a few feet from the sleeping man. He had not appeared to notice what was going on, but now, just as the conductor seemed about to appeal to the motorman for help, the little Japanese slid along the seat and said to the conductor: “I wake him.”
The conductor stared, and scratched his head. “If you can,” he remarked, “it’s more’n I can do.”
Maku did not answer, but putting his hand behind the sleeping man’s back, found some sensitive vertebra. With a yell, the man awoke and leaped to his feet. The conductor seized him by the arm and led him to the platform.
The car was already slowing down, but without waiting for it to stop, the fellow launched himself into the night, being preserved from falling by the god of alcohol, and stumbled away toward the sidewalk.
“Did you see the Jap?” exclaimed the conductor. “Stuck a pin into him, that’s what he did.”
“Oh, I guess not,” laughed Orme. “He touched his spine, that was all.”
The car stopped. The spectacled passenger with the portfolio arose and got off by way of the front platform. Would Maku also take the elevated? If he did, unless he also got off the front platform, Orme would have to act quickly to keep out of sight.
But Maku made no move. He had returned to his former position, and only the trace of an elusive smile on his lips showed that he had not forgotten the incident in which he had just taken part. Meantime Orme had maintained his partial concealment, and though Maku had turned his head when he went to the conductor’s help, he had not appeared to glance toward the back platform.
The conductor rang the bell, and the car started forward again with its two passengers—Maku within, Orme without—the pursuer and the pursued.
“I thought the motorman and I was going to have to chuck that chap off,” commented the conductor. “If the Jap hadn’t stuck a pin into him——”