Prev | Current Page 161 | Next

Walcott, Earle Ashley, 1859-1931

"Blindfolded"

"
"Dear me, how dreadful!" said Mrs. Bowser. "And do we have to go down
into that horrible hole, and how can we ever get out with our lives?"
"We're not going down there, ma'am," interrupted Corson shortly.
"And where next?" asked Luella.
The question was addressed to the policeman, not to me. Except for a
formal greeting when we had met, Luella had spoken no word to me during
the evening.
"Here's the biggest joss-house in town," said Corson. "We might as well
see it now as any time."
"Oh, do let us see those delightfully horrible idols," cried Mrs.
Bowser. "But," she added, with a sudden access of alarm at some
recollection of the reading of her school-days, "do they cut people's
hearts out before the wicked things right in the middle of the city?"
The policeman assured her that the appetite of the joss for gore
remained unsatisfied, and led the way into the dimly-lighted building
that served as a temple.
I lingered a moment by the door to see that all my party passed in.
"There's Wainwright," whispered Porter, who closed the procession.
"Where?" I asked, a dim remembrance of the mission on which I had sent
him in pursuit of the snake-eyed man giving the information a sinister
twist.
Porter gave a chirrup, and Wainwright halted at the door.
"He's just passed up the alley here," said Wainwright in a low voice.
"Who? Terrill?" I asked.
"Yes," said Wainwright. "I've kept him in sight all the evening."
"Hasn't he seen you?" asked Porter.


Pages:
149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159 160 161 162 163 164 165 166 167 168 169 170 171 172 173