[Pg 125] “Mind your own business,” retorted Westerham, sharply. “Lead the way. I shall say what I have to say to my friends. “Don't play the fool,” he added as the man still looked doubtful. “What do you take me for? A ‘tec’? If I were, do you think I should be ass enough to come here alone and ask to be shown into that crowd?” The negro grinned as much as to say that he thought him an ass in any case, but he led the way down the passage none the less. They passed through the opium den as before, and then it seemed that the negro purposely made no disturbance in order that Westerham's entrance might have a proper dramatic effect. He was right in his estimation of the confusion it would cause. If one may so term it, the parliament of scoundrels was in full session. The long trestle table was in the centre of the room, and at one end of it sat the bullet-headed man, while at the other was the young ruffian whom Westerham knew by the name of Crow. It was evidently Crow, too, who was in supreme command. The bullet-headed man rose up and stared at Westerham with starting eyes. The other men followed his gaze and leapt to their feet with cries and oaths. Crow, of the vicious eyes and the hawk-like nose and the large, brutal hands, alone seemed undismayed. The negro, having waited just sufficiently long to watch the sensation caused by Westerham's entrance,[Pg 126] had slipped out of the club-room on silent feet. [Pg 126] Crow, in a quick, hard voice, cried, “The door!” Instantly, as though their stations had by previous arrangements been allotted them—as was indeed the case—two men jumped from their seats and put their backs against the door. As they stood there they drew their knives, and on taking a step forward Westerham found himself cut off from retreat and facing the angry eyes of quite a score of men. Two of them had pulled out revolvers, but Crow caught their action with quick and angry eyes. “Don't be fools,” he said; “put those barkers away. We want no noise down here.” Sullenly the men obeyed.
Prev.
Back
Top