He smiled coolly down at the iron man. For once he gave a
passable imitation of the Englishman.
"And he's going to have the opportunity today," he said
understandingly. "I think, old chap, I'd better be going. I'm rather
anxious to see Shan Tung before dinner."
McDowell followed him to the door.
His face had undergone a change. There was a tense expectancy, almost
an eagerness there. Again he gripped Keith's hand, and before the door
opened he said,
"If trouble comes between you let it be in the open, Conniston--in the
open and not on Shan Tung's premises."
Keith went out, his pulse quickening to the significance of the iron
man's words, and wondering what the "mine" was that McDowell had
promised to explode, but which he had not.
XVII
Keith lost no time in heading for Shan Tung's. He was like a man
playing chess, and the moves were becoming so swift and so intricate
that his mind had no rest. Each hour brought forth its fresh
necessities and its new alternatives. It was McDowell who had given him
his last cue, perhaps the surest and safest method of all for winning
his game. The iron man, that disciple of the Law who was merciless in
his demand of an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth, had let him
understand that the world would be better off without Shan Tung.
Pages:
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171