Mock Hen took the left-hand of the three doors and crept along a passage
opening into an empty opium parlor back of the Hip Leong clubroom.

Diving beneath one of the bunks he inserted his body between the lower
planking at the back and the cellar wall, wormed his way some twelve
feet, raised a trap and emerged into a tunnel by means of which and
others he eventually reached the end of the block and the rooms of his
friend Hong Sue.

Here he changed from the Oriental costume according to Chinese etiquette
necessary to the homicide, into a nobby suit of American clothes, put on
a false mustache, and walked boldly down Park Row, while just behind
him Doyers and Pell Streets swarmed with bluecoats and excited
citizenry.

Hudson House, the social settlement presided over by Miss Fanny and
affected for business reasons by Mock Hen, was a mile and a half away.
But Mock took his time. Twenty-five full minutes elapsed before he
leisurely climbed the steps and slipped into the big reading room. There
was no one there and Mock deftly turned back the hand of the automatic
clock over the platform to three-fifty-five. Then he began to whistle.
Presently Miss Fanny entered from the rear room, her face lighting with
pleasure at the sight of her pet convert.

"Good afternoon, Mock Hen! You are early to-day."

Mock took her hand and stroked it affectionately.

"I go Fulton Mark' buy li'l' terrapin. Stop in on way to see dear Miss