And as they fell under the influence of the wonderful and subtle drug that holds sway over the whole of the Far East, from Shanghai to Bombay, they discussed in low voices the affairs of Mr Hennessy K. Waldron, of Paradise City, Nevada, U.S.A.
"Tell me," asked Yung How, "do you ever see anything of Cheong-Chau, the robber?"
"He himself," said Ah Wu, "comes often to Canton. He invariably stays here. He is a great smoker. He smokes opium by day and walks abroad by night. He will not show himself in the streets by daylight, in case he should be recognised by the soldiers of the Viceroy."
"He is a brave man," said Yung How--avoiding, after the manner of the East, the point at issue.
"He fears not death," said Ah Wu. "But the day will come when he will be led to his execution, to the Potter's Yard, where they will cut off his head, and the heads of all his followers."
"How many men has he?" asked Yung How.
Ah Wu shrugged his shoulders.
"Some say twenty," said he; "some say thirty. Men-Ching, his second-in-command, is always here. He is one of my oldest patrons." Ah Wu nodded his head towards the door. "He is in there now," he added, "sound asleep. I saw him as we passed."
It is not the custom of a Chinese to convey surprise, satisfaction or displeasure, or any other emotion, upon the features of his face. Yung How's countenance remained expressionless. He did not raise an eyebrow. And yet he was delighted. He was in luck's way, and he knew it.
"What sort of a man is this Men-Ching?" he asked.