After no little trouble Kennedy and I discovered our “hop joint” and were admitted by Nichi Moto, of whom we had heard.  Kennedy gave me a final injunction to watch, but to be very careful not to seem to watch.

Nichi Moto with an eye to business and not to our absorbing more than enough to whet our descriptive powers quickly conducted us into a large room where, on single bamboo couches or bunks, rather tastefully made, perhaps half a dozen habitues lay stretched at full length smoking their pipes in peace, or preparing them in great expectation from the implements on the trays before them.

Kennedy relieved me of the responsibility of cooking the opium by doing it for both of us and, incidentally, dropping a hint not to inhale it and to breathe as little of it as possible.  Even then it made me feel badly, though he must have contrived in some way to get even less of the stuff than I. A couple of pipes, and Kennedy beckoned to Nichi.

“Where is Mr. Clendenin?” he asked familiarly.  “I haven’t seen him yet.”

The Japanese smiled his engaging smile.  “Not know,” was all he said, and yet I knew the fellow at least knew better English, if not more facts.

Kennedy had about started on our faking a third “pipe” when a new, unexpected arrival beckoned excitedly to Nichi.  I could not catch all that was said but two words that I did catch were “the boss” and “hop toy,” the latter the word for opium.  No sooner had the man disappeared without joining the smokers than Nichi seemed to grow very restless and anxious.  Evidently he had received orders to do something.  He seemed anxious to close the place and get away.  I thought that some one might have given a tip that the place was to be raided, but Kennedy, who had been closer, had overheard more than I had and among other things he had caught the word, “meet him at the same place.”

It was not long before we were all politely hustled out.

“At least we know this,” commented Kennedy, as I congratulated myself on our fortunate escape, “Clendenin was not there, and there is something doing to-night, for he has sent for Nichi.”

We dropped into our apartment to freshen up a bit against the long vigil that we knew was coming that night.  To our surprise Walker Curtis had left a message that he wished to see Kennedy immediately and alone, and although I was not present I give the substance of what he said.  It seemed that he had not wished to tell O’Connor for fear that it would get into the papers and cause an even greater scandal, but it had come to his knowledge a few days before the tragedy that his sister was determined to marry a very wealthy Chinese merchant, an importer of tea, named Chin Jung.  Whether or not this had any bearing on the case he did not know.  He thought it had, because for a long time, both when she was on the stage and later, Clendenin had had a great influence over her and had watched with a jealous eye the advances of every one else.  Curtis was especially bitter against Clendenin.