"Even with the garlic, this air smells better than what we left inside," Scotty said. "Why do you think Canton Charlie didn't deliver the message himself?"
"Maybe he's not mixed up in it," Rick suggested. "Maybe he just had orders to let someone know when we showed up."
"We'll soon know," Zircon predicted.
As the three rickshaw coolies materialized from the darkness where they had been waiting, the Americans climbed in. Zircon asked, "You know street called Three Blind Fishermen?"
One of the rickshaw boys nodded. "Not far. We go?"
"Yes."
The rickshaws lurched forward.
Inside the Golden Mouse, Canton Charlie started for the table where the three had been waiting. He stopped short as he saw they were no longer there, turned on his heel, and hurried into an inner room. He spoke quick words to a slim Chinese-Portuguese half-caste who immediately hurried out the back door. Once in the open, the slim man ran as though devils were after him.