"Look at the shooting galleries," the two were walking down the Bowery,
"they've been kept going for years by the practice of the Tong marksmen.
You'd never think it, but some of those Highbinders could make our crack
shots do their best to keep an even score. Well," he broke off, "here
we are at Mott Street. Bob," he called to the policeman across the
street, "here's a young fellow wants to go into Chinatown."
"Sorry, sir," said the other, a great big burly fellow, coming forward
to meet them, "but orders are strict. No one going in at all, unless on
business."
"It is on business, officer," said Hamilton. "I'm a census agent and the
Inspector told me to check up some names on this schedule."
The policeman took it and looked it over.
"I think those are all right, sir," he said, "I know most of 'em by
name. But that's one of those underground places and we don't any of us
go down there any more than we have to. Of course when we have to
go--why, that's another matter. I think, sir, you can take it those
names are about all right."
"I don't feel that I could make a report like that," Hamilton answered.
"I was sent to check it up personally, and don't you think I'd better do
it? There's a chap there," he added, pointing to a young fellow standing
a few yards up the street, "he doesn't look Chinese.
Pages:
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331