"Ye see what we're up against," the policeman said to Hamilton. "Here's a slip of a lad that c'n just make a crowd do what he says because his father is a leader in the Mafia. There's never any one gives credit enough to the force for keepin peace, between all these foreigners and the Chinks; this ain't an American city, it's a racial nightmare."
"Do the Chinese give much trouble, then?"
"Not such a great deal usually, but they do once in a while. There's bloody murder in Chinatown going on now, or going to begin mighty soon. Three were killed yesterday and the word was given out at Headquarters this morning that the Tongs were out."
THE FIGHTING MEN OF THE TONGS. The younger combatants of the Five Brothers outside the impregnably guarded headquarters in Chinatown, New York.
"Have we Tongs in New York?" asked Hamilton. "I've heard all about the troubles in the West. Before the fire in San Francisco, I know, there were fifteen organized Tongs of Highbinders, each with its paid band of 'Hatchet Men' for no other purpose than to rule Chinatown. The man who got up the report for the government told me that 'Frisco Chinatown was far more under Tong rule and had far more crimes in proportion than any city in China."
"There are six strong Tongs in New York that I know about," the policeman answered, "and I guess there are a lot more. But I reckon it's the same in 'Frisco as it is here, they keep their killings to themselves, and they don't let any white men get mixed up in it at all. That's why you never can tell anything about it. But right now Chinatown is pretty dangerous, and all the sight-seeing business there has been shut off. No one is going into Mott and Pell Streets now."
"Pell Street!" exclaimed the boy. "Is that in Chinatown?"
"Right in the heart of it," was the reply. "Why?"
"Because I'm headed there now," Hamilton answered, taking from his pocket the schedule he had been given by Burns to check up, and showing it to the officer.