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THE BLACK CAMEL

and picked up his hat from a table in the hallway. Wu Kno-ching appeared suddenly from the dining-room.

Charlie gazed into the beady eyes, the withered yellow face of his compatriot.

“Tell me something, Wu,” he said. “How was it I came upon this road? Why should one of our race concern himself with the hatreds and the misdeeds of the haoles?”

“Wha's mallah you?” Wu inquired.

“I am weary,” sighed Chan. “I want peace now. A very trying case, good Wu Kno-ching. But”—he nodded, and a smile spread over his fat face—“as you know, my friend, a gem is not polished without rubbing, nor a man perfected without trials.”

The door closed gently behind him.


THE END

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