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Various

"The Best Short Stories of 1921 and the Yearbook of the American Short Story"


"He got his, eh?" was all he said.
"Evidently. You don't seem to be much affected."
"So long as she's shipped him, that's all right," he drawled.
"I can't make out what your interest in the matter is," I suggested.
"Sure you can't," Stires began to whistle creakily, and took up some
nameless object to repair.
"How long is Schneider staying round these parts?"
"Not long, I guess. I heard he was leaving on the Sydney packet next
week."
"So you're only up against Follet?" I pressed him.
"I ain't up against anybody. Miss Eva'll settle her own affairs."
"Excuse me." And I made the gesture of withdrawing.
"Don't get het up under the collar," he protested. "Only I never did
like this discussing ladies. She don't cotton to me for some reason. I'm
free to say I admire her very much. I guess that's all."
"Nothing I can do for you, then?"
Stires lighted a pipe. "If you're so set on helping me, you might watch
over Ching Po a little."
"What is he up to?"
"Don't know. But it ain't like him to be sitting round idle when there's
harm to be done. He's got something up his sleeve--and a Chink's
sleeve's big enough to hold a good-sized crime," he finished, with a
grim essay of humor.
"Are these mere suspicions on your part, or do you know that something's
up?"
"Most things happen on Naapu before there's been any time for
suspicion," he rejoined, squinting at his pipe, which had stopped
drawing.


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