said slowly, "just who is this chap, Wu Li Chang? And what's his strength?"
"I've been here for twenty years," Holman told him, "and in all that time there's been just one man I've made it a point to steer clear of, in business and out of it—a strong personality, possessed of unlimited wealth, mixed up in every big deal in Hong Kong, swaying a sinister power that we Europeans cannot understand. Mr. Wu is hardly the man to cross swords with. No European can afford to; and there's only one of his own race who ever got the better of him, and that was only momentary, for he was never seen again."
"You mean"
"The inevitable where Wu is concerned!"
"But how on earth," Carruthers said, "could Mr. Gregory have offended such a man?"
Holman gestured his inability to answer that, but persisted, "There's no doubt about it. To you all Chinamen look alike, but they don't to me. And I've seen men, whom I know to be in Wu's employ, mixing with our coolies for days now. There are two of them down there now—to my knowledge—and probably more. And I know for a fact that several such shipped in the Feima; every man jack of 'em is a Highbinder—member of one or other of the rival tongs."
"Tongs?" Tom queried. "That means secret societies, doesn't it?"
"You bet your life it does: secret societies that are secret, guilds that are a monster-power—the greatest power in China, the only power that Tze-Shi is afraid of. There are two or three in every province—a heap more in some. And our friend Wu is Past Master of the whole bally lot of 'em. Most of the mandarins hate the tongs,
