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“Open the door!”
cries your guide, in a peremptory tone, stopping in front of a log cabin-“ open the door!
”
“You foolee me?
You foolee me?”
“ No, no. Open the door!”
The voice is recognised within; the door is slowly opened, and you peep into the crib; a cupboard as to size, but occupied by five or six men and women.
Heaps of stolen goods are on the floor; but neither blade nor gun is visible.
At another crib we are repulsed.
To the enquiry “How?
You foolee me?”
we answer, as before, “No, no;” but, instead of seeing the door open, we catch a rapid exchange of whispers inside.
“Go; you not foolee me!”
cries a voice, accompanied by the click of a rifle.
“Dip and slide,” whispers our companion, and we instantly dip and slide.
In Stout's Alley, and in the yards around this sink of squalor and iniquity, lodge the partners of these thieves and murderers — the female slaves.
Let us get out into the open streets!
“ You have now seen a little of our Chinese ”
1875.
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