"
"Is that Japanese locked in that little room?" asked Zillah.
Melky tapped the side of his nose, and without a word looked out into the
street. A policeman, large enough for all practical purposes, was lounging
along the side-walk; another, equally bulky, was looking into a shop-
window twenty yards away across the street. Within a couple of minutes
Melky had both in the back-parlour and was giving them and Zillah a swift
but particular account of his schemes.
"You're sure you're right, Melky?" asked Zillah. "You're not making any
mistake?"
"Mistake!" exclaimed Melky, satirically. "You'll see about that in a
minute! Now," he added, turning to the policemen, "you come quietly up--
and do exactly what I've told you. We'll soon know about mistakes,
Zillah!"
Yada, left to himself, had spent his time in gazing out of the dirty
window of his prison. There was not much of a prospect. The window
commanded the various backyards of that quarter. As if to consider any
possible chance of escape, he looked out. There was a projection beneath
him, a convenient water-pipe--he might make a perilous descent, if need
arose.
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