olled a much
larger pill than usual and placed it in the bowl of his pipe. He had
consumed a frightful quantity of the stuff in the past few days, and his
nerves were in just the condition that required a larger amount than
ever to quiet them.

"He stretched himself at full length in the nearest bunk and proceeded
to lull the awful fantasies which threatened his reason. With a moan he
buried his face in his pillow; for at the end of the room he saw a grim
phantom whom, he felt sure, the doubly accursed Quong Lee had
maliciously admitted. The old man should pay dearly for this on the
morrow! Ah Moy felt his fingers tightening convulsively around the
throat of the dying Quong Lee; he could hear the croaking in his
victim's wind-pipe, and the gruesome death-rattle! The sounds were all
well known to the Chinaman, and recalled a chain of lurid experiences.

"'I should have done it before,' he muttered, as in his fancy he kicked
the body aside.

"He grew calmer. There was a bright gleam of hope in the thought that
with the death of Major Cragiemuir his wooing would be far less
difficult. As to the girl returning his love--bah! Women were not
consulted upon such matters--in China. He smiled, for he felt that his
triumph was assured.

"Radiant visions came to him. He was floating in space, wafted by
perfumed breezes. Around him were lovely faces dimly outlined in circles
of roseate clouds. Each face was Janet Cragiemuir's, and all smiled most
bewitchingly at him. Showers of white and yellow blossoms fell at
intervals, and the orchestra from the Imperial theatre at Pekin boomed
lazily in the distance.

"Happy, happy Ah Moy!

"But the Chinaman, though a hardened smoker, had badly miscalculated
matters, for when Quong Lee came in at daybreak to awaken him the
'Beautiful One' had been dead many hours!"

* * * * *

"Now, Mr. Denmead," said Colonel Manysnifters, turning to another
representative of the press, "it's your turn. Let us have it good and
strong. I have read your East Side Sketches, and like 'em immensely.
Can't you give us a touch of New York in yours?"

"I'll try," said Denmead modestly, "though it isn't exactly a story. It
was just a passing incident, but it was something that I will not soon
forget. An affair of that kind is apt to make more or less of an
impression on a fellow. Maybe you will agree with me."

XI

WHAT HAPPENED TO DENMEAD

"Several years ago I fou