“Well, well, I can’t quite keep up this pace, gentlemen,” said the cigar-clerk, “and I have to open up the shop. I’ll look you up to-night at the morgue!”
He left hurriedly.
Once outside, Coffin’s spirits rose. “I never really expected to greet yon glorious orb again,” he said. “Let’s climb up to Chinatown and get rich.”
“Spending money is my mark; I’m a James P. Dandy when it comes to letting go of coin. I’m with you,” said the Klondyker. “Besides, I want to see how long before our luck changes.”
The Freshman led the way up past St. Mary’s Church, without heeding the sacred admonition graved below the dial: “Son, observe the time and flee from evil!” a warning singularly apposite in that scarlet quarter of the town. They passed up the narrow Oriental lane of Dupont Street, the Chinatown highway, and, as he pointed out the sights, Coffin discoursed.
“In the back of half these shops the gentle game of fan-tan is now progressing. Moreover, there are at least five lotteries running in the quarter that I know of. To wit: the ’American,’ the ’Lum Ki,’ the ’New York,’ the ’Ye Wah’ and the ’Mee Lee Sing.’ I propose to buck the Mongolian tiger in his Oriental lair and watch the yellow fur fly, by investing a small wad in a ticket for the half-past-nine drawing. I worked out a system last night, while dallying with the tresses of My Lady Nicotine, and I simply can’t lose unless my luck has turned sour. I shall mark said ticket per said inspiration, and drag down the spoils of war. Kaloo, kalay, I chortle in my joy!”
“See here, then, you let me in on that,” insisted the Klondyker; “you keep your hundred and salt it down. You play my money this shot, and I’ll give you half of what’s made on it. You’re a mascot to-day, and I’ve earned the right to use you!”
“All right; then I agree to be fairy godmother until the sun sets. But I muchly fear you’ll let the little tra-la-loo bird out of the cage, with your great, big, coarse fingers. Never mind, we’ll try it. Here we are, now!”
He paused in front of a smallish Chinese restaurant on a side street. In the lower windows were displayed groceries and provisions, raw and cooked, and from the upper story a painted wooden fretwork balcony projected, adorned with potted shrubs and paper lanterns.
“Behind this exhibition of split ducks, semi-pigs, mud-packed eggs from the Flowery Realm, dried abalones, sugar-cane from far Cathay, preserved watermelon-rind, candied limes, li-chi nuts, chop suey, sharks’ fins, birds’ nests, rats, cats, and rice-brandy, punks, peanut-oil, and passionate pastry, lurks the peaceful group that makes money for you while you wait. Above, in red hieroglyphs, you observe the legend, ’Chin Fook Yen Company.’ This does not indicate the names of the several members of the firm, as is ordinarily supposed, but it is the touching and tempting motto, ’Here Prosperity awaits Everybody, all same Sunlight!’ In the days of evil tidings I once made a bluff at being a Chinatown guide. It is easy enough; but I am naturally virtuous, and I was not a success with the voracious drummer and the incredulous English globe-trotter. But I picked up a few friends amongst the Chinks, as you’ll see.”