Page:Weird Tales v01n03 (1923-05).djvu/40





LOSETED with the Surveyor of Customs were his chief inspector, a clean-cut young fellow named Greaves, and a bullet-headed, thick-shouldered man who went by the name of Burke.

Burke was speaking:

"There's just two of 'em in on this job. One is Lee Hin, a Chink that dresses like a white man and spends money like it was water. The other is the man I got acquainted with and got the dope out of. His name is Ward—Jerry Ward. He's boatman and runner for Lee Hin. I’ve found out that they're intending to pull off a job in a day or two. We can make a cleaning on them—get them with the goods on!"

Chief Jordan, a florid old fellow with iron-gray hair and kindly, observant gray eyes, regarded Burke with disfavor, as if he were examining a particularly noxious variety of insect or reptile. He pursed his lips and looked deprecatingly at his assistant.

"What do you think, Charlie?" he asked.

"We haven't much to go on," Greaves replied, his voice also tinged with dislike. "If Mr. Burke would tell us a little more—"

Burke shook his bulldog head and growled deep down in his throat,

"You gents know as well as me that I'm taking my life in my hands as it is. This Lee Hin is bad medicine. He's got the craft of a Chink and the education of a white man. If you'll leave it all to me, I'll frame things so's you'll get your birds. If you don't—"

Mr. Burke clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth with an air of finality. His furtive eyes were defiant, as if he perceived the disgust his presence created. Moreover, there had been a dogged restraint and circumspection in all that he said—carefully selecting his details, presenting some which would Rh