criminal! an' if I find out for sure that you are
guilty, I'll put you where you'll never do it again.' Th' young gent
smirked at her an' squirmed like a worm. 'You're wrong, Mrs. Barrett,'
he says, lookin' like th' meek puppy he is, 'an' you'll have t' look
some place else for th' person that done it.' But she wouldn't talk no
longer--jus' walked out, as mad as a hornet."

"Well, well," mused Mrs. Radigan. "I wonder what 'twas all about.
'Criminal,' she said, eh? That's funny!" She walked to the front of the
office and peeked through the wicket. But no one was loitering near
except Fong Wu, and his face was the picture of dull indifference.

That night, long after the hour for Mrs. Barrett's regular trip, and
long past the time for his supper-song, Fong Wu heard slow, shuffling
steps approach the house. A moment afterward, the knob of his door was
rattled. He put out his light and slipped a knife into his loose sleeve.

After some fumbling and moving about on the porch, a man called out to
him. He recognized the voice.

"Fong Wu! Fong Wu!" it begged. "Let me in. I want to see you; I want to
ask you for help--for something I need. Let me in; let me in."

Fong Wu, without answering, relit his lamp, and, with the air of one who
is at the same time both relieved and a witness of the expected, flung
the door wide.

Then into the room, writhing as if in fearful agony, his hands palsied,
his face a-drip and, except for dark blotches about the mouth,
green-hued, his eyes wild and sunken, fell, rather than tottered,
Anthony Barrett.

"Fong Wu," he pleaded, from the floor at the other's feet, "you helped
my wife when she was sick, now help me. I'm dying! I'm dying! Give it to
me, for God's sake! give it to me." He caught at the skirt of Fong Wu's
blouse.

The Chinese retreated a little, scowling. "What do you want?" he asked.

A paroxysm of pain seized Barrett. He half rose and stumbled forward.
"You know," he panted, "you know. And if I don't have some, I'll die. I
can't get it anywhere else. She's found me out, and scared the
drug-clerk. Oh, just a little, old man, just a little!" He sank to the
floor again.

"I can give you nothing," said Fong Wu bluntly. "I do not keep--what you
want."

With a curse, Barrett was up again. "Oh, you don't," he screamed,
leering frenziedly. "You yellow devil! You almond-eyed pigtail! But I
know you do! And I must have it. Quick! quick!" He hung, clutching, on
the edge of Fong Wu's