"You can tell Big Sam, with my compliments, that if he thinks I am going to be an accomplice before the fact to a murder, he's very much mistaken in the person."
There was more talk to the same effect, when my judicial mind caught the idea of a compromise.
"I have it," I said. "Why not let Big Sam's Chinese doctor come up here and take an occasional look at Moon Ying, and allay the excitement in Chinatown by assuring them that she's all right?"
"Well, I admire your intelligence," said Miss Kendrick. "I suppose you'd have Doctor Roberts consulting with him, and alternate our medicines with shark's-liver pills and snake-skin powders. Would you set aside certain hours for him to sing Chinese incantations over her? Or how would you fix it?"
The judicial scheme of compromise lost some of its attractiveness, and I said so with the proper degree of humility.
"Well, you are forgiven," said Miss Kendrick. "Now I'll tell you that there's just one compromise we will make. Big Sam may come here once a week to see Moon Ying. He's the only Chinaman who can get past that door."
"I suggested something of the sort, and he took it as though I had proposed an impropriety. I believe that a Chinese gentleman isn't supposed to observe that another gentleman has a feminine side to his establishment."
"Then he can stay out," said Miss Kendrick with decision. "You can go right back and set his mind at rest. He can have Moon Ying when she gets well and he finds a man who is fit to be her husband. It's my private opinion that there isn't such a one in Chinatown. And he can't have her a minute sooner."
I delivered this ultimatum to Big Sam. He had recovered his composure, and showed neither surprise nor disappointment when I reported the result of his mission.
"Am I to understand that this message is from Mr. Kendrick or Miss Kendrick?" he inquired blandly.