Zircon shrugged expressively. "Can't do a thing but wait, Rick." Fortunately, the wait was not much longer. A Chinese shuffled past and dropped a folded note on the table. Before they could question him, he had made his way among the tables and was gone. Zircon picked up the note, glanced through it, and handed it to Scotty. Rick read over his friend's shoulder. The note was scrawled in pencil, as though written in haste. "_To find the one you want, go to the end of the Street of the Three Blind Fishermen. Go to the junk with the purple sails._" "Let's get started," Rick said. He rose to his feet. Zircon tossed some money on the table. The three of them made their way through the noisy mob of rough-necks and out the door. Rick breathed deeply when they were out in the narrow street again. "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. CHAPTER VII The Junk with Purple Sails For perhaps ten minutes Rick, Scotty, and Zircon sat in the rickshaws while the coolies pulled them through dark streets with no more noise than the occasional creaking of a wheel or the slapping of bare feet on the pavement. There were houses on both sides of the streets, but only now and then did a light show through the impenetrable darkness. Rick finally sensed that they were near the water by a feeling of greater space around him rather than by anything he could see. A moment later he heard the lapping of water against a pier. He was tense with excitement now. The first part of the journey was coming to an end. In a few minutes they would be hearing Chahda's story. The rickshaws drew to a stop and the coolies dropped the shafts so their passengers could climb out. The coolie who spoke the best English asked, hesitantly, "You pay now, sor? We no wait here, yes?" "Very well." Zircon paid the boys' fare and his own. "I don't suppose there's any reason to have them wait, since this is our destination. Chahda's friends doubtless will provide a ride for the return journey."