Chinese -- England -- Fiction; Detective and mystery stories; Murder -- Investigation -- Fiction
"About the fan," said the Major sitting promptly. "I confess I
am curious to know how it came to England again, after Forge
took it again to the Far East. Didn't he give it to Lo-Keong?"
"So he says," said Clarence with a side-long look at his
companion. "I don't know myself. All I know is, that I got it
from a pirate."
"From a pirate?"
"That's so. I was in Chinese waters a year or so ago, and I
reckon pirates swarm in those parts--"
Tidman shivered. "Yes," he admitted, "I had an adventure myself
in Canton with a pirate of sorts."
"Old Forge told me something about it," said Clarence lighting a
fresh cigarette, "but my yarn's different. I was out with some
of the boys in Chinese water, and a pirate tried to board us. We
were down Borneo way, looking out for a ruby mine said to be in
those parts. My pals--there were two of them, and myself
engineering the job--hired a boat and cut across to Borneo. The
pirates tried to slit our throats and our Chinese crew tried to
help them. But we used our Winchesters and six shooters freely,
and shot a heap. The pirates cleared off and we brought our
barky into port safe enough."
"But about the fan?"
"I'm coming to that. The Boss pirate was shot by me--a big six
foot Northern Chinee, got up, to kill, like a tin god. He had
this jade fan, and directed operations with it. When his pals
cleared I found him as dead as a coffin and nailed the fan. It
was pretty enough, but didn't appeal to me much. I clapped it
away in my box, and when I reached England I offered it to Aunt
Lavinia. She wants me to marry Miss Rayner, and said I should
offer it to her, and cut out that aristocratic Ainsleigh chap.
Olivia--ripping name, ain't it--well, she didn't catch on, so I
thought I'd gain the goodwill of old Miss Wharf, and passed it
along to her."
The Major listened in silence to this story, which seemed
reasonable enough. "Strange it should have come back to England,
and to a small place like this, where Forge had it," he mused.
"A coincidence I suppose. By the way did you see the advertisement?"
he asked.
"You bet I did, and it made me sick to think I'd parted with the
fan. Leastways, it made me sick till I saw Hwei!"
"You mean Tung-yu."
"No, I don't. I mean the Chinee as calls himself Hwei, who put
that advertisement in every newspaper in London, and the United
Kingdom."
"What, in everyone?" said the Major, "must have cost----"
"A heap you bet. Major. Well I struck Hwei--"
"That's the name of a river, man."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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