He hastily closed the book and put it in his sleeve.

'This book,' he said, 'will doubtless prove most illuminating! Let me now return the treatise you so kindly lent me the other day.'

As he spoke Ma Joong produced the package of money and handed it to the fat man, who hurriedly put it in the bosom of his cloak.

'I must leave now,' Ma Joong said, 'but tomorrow night we shall meet here again to continue our discussion.'

The fat man mumbled some polite words and Ma Joong rose and left the tea house.

Looking up and down the street Ma Joong saw that a curious crowd had gathered round an itinerant fortune-teller. He joined them but took a position that allowed him to keep an eye on the door of Wang Loo's tea house. After a short while the little fat monk emerged from the door and walked briskly down the narrow street. Ma Joong followed him at a distance, avoiding the circles of light cast by the oil lamps of the street vendors.

His quarry strode along as rapidly as he could with his short legs, heading in the direction of the northern gate. Suddenly he turned into a narrow side alley. Ma Joong looked around the corner. No one else was about. The little man had halted in front of a-small house and was about to knock on the door. Ma Joong ran noiselessly up behind him.

Clapping his hand on the fat man's shoulder, he jerked him round and gripped him by the throat, growling:

'One sound and you are done for!'

Then he dragged him farther into the alley until he found a dark corner, where he pinned the monk against the wall.

The fat man trembled all over and whined:

'I shall give you back the silver! Please don't kill me!'

Ma Joong took the package from him and put it back in his sleeve. Then he shook the stranger roughly.

'Tell me where you got that hairpin!' he demanded.

The other began in a faltering voice:

'I found it in the gutter. Some lady must have____________________'

Ma Joong gripped his throat again and cracked his head against the wall. It struck the stone with a dull thud. He hissed:

'Tell the truth, you dogshead, and save your wretched life!'

'Let me talk,' the other implored as he gasped for air.

Ma Joong released his throat and stood threateningly over him.

'I am,' the fat monk whined, 'one of a small gang of six vagabonds, masquerading as Taoist mendicant monks. We live in a deserted guard house in the East City at the foot of the wall. Our leader is a rough fellow called Hwang San.

'Last week, when we were taking our afternoon nap, I happened to open my eyes and saw Hwang San take a pair of golden hairpins from the seam of his robe to examine them. I closed my eyes again and pretended to be asleep. For some time I had been planning to leave the gang, they are much too violent for my taste. It seemed to me that this was the opportunity for obtaining the needed funds. So two days ago when Hwang San came home dead drunk, I waited till he was snoring. Then I felt the seam of his robe until I found one hairpin. He stirred and I did not dare to look for the other one but fled instead.'

Ma Joong was inwardly exceedingly pleased with this information. However, he did not relax his furious scowl. 'Lead me to that man!' he barked.

The fat man started to tremble again all over and whimpered:

'Please don't deliver me to that man! He will beat me to death!'

'The only man you need be afraid of is me!' Ma Joong said gruffly. 'At the first sign of treachery I shall drag you to a quiet comer and cut your filthy throat. Get going!'

The fat man led him back to the main street. After a short walk they reached a maze of small alleys and finally arrived in a dark and deserted area along the city wall. Ma Joong could vaguely distinguish a tumbledown hut which was built against the wall.

'Here it is,' the fat man blubbered and turned to run away. But Ma Joong gripped him by the collar of his robe and dragged him along until they stood in front of the hut. Ma Joong kicked against the door and shouted:

'Hwang San, I have brought a golden hairpin for you!' Sounds of stumbling were heard inside, a light went on and presently a huge, bony fellow emerged. He was as tall as Ma Joong but lacked the latter's weight.

Lifting up the oil lamp, he surveyed his visitors with small, mean eyes. Then he cursed roundly and growled at Ma Joong:

'So that wretched rat stole my hairpin. Now what do you have to do with that?'

'I want to buy the pair of them. When this bastard produced only one, I knew he was holding out on me. I gently persuaded him to tell me where I could find the other one.'

The other guffawed. He had uneven, yellow teeth.

"We shall do business, brother!' he said. 'But first let me kick in the ribs of this fat sneak thief-just to show him how to behave towards his betters!'

He put down the oil lamp as a preliminary to action. The fat man suddenly kicked the lamp over with surprising deftness. Ma Joong let go of his collar and the terrified thug ran away as fast as an arrow from the bow.

Hwang San swore and wanted to run after him. Ma Joong caught him by the arm saying quickly:

'Let the wretch go! You can settle with him later. I have urgent business with you.'

'Well,' Hwang San growled, 'if you have cash with you we might make a deal. I have had bad luck all my life and somehow I have a feeling that those accursed hairpins will land me in trouble if I don't sell them quickly. You have seen one of them; the other is exactly the same. What will you give?'

Ma Joong looked around warily. The moon had come out and he noticed that the place seemed completely deserted.

'Where are the other fellows?' he enquired. 'I don't like to do business in front of witnesses!'

'Don't worry,' Hwang San reassured him, 'they are all away making the rounds in the shopping centres.'

'In that case,' Ma Joong said coldly, 'you can keep your hairpin, you wretched murderer!'

MA JOONG'S FIGHT UNDER THE CITY WALL

Hwang San swiftly sprang back.

'Who are you, you bastard?' he shouted angrily.

'I am the lieutenant of His Excellency Judge Dee,' Ma Joong answered, 'and I am going to take you to the tribunal as the murderer of Pure Jade. Now will you come along or shall I have to beat you to a pulp first?'

'I have never heard of the wench,' Hwang San barked, 'but I know your dirty kind of constable and the corrupt judges for whom you act as running dog! Once you get me in the tribunal you will pin some unsolved crime on me and then torture me till I confess. I'll take my chance with you!'

As he spoke the last words he aimed a vicious blow at Ma Joong's middle.

Ma Joong parried and swung at Hwang San's head. The latter, however, caught the blow in the approved way and followed up with a quick thrust at Ma Joong's heart.

Blow was exchanged for blow wihout * (* This is a spelling error in the original text of the book) either of them being able to score a real hit.

Ma Joong realised that he had found his equal in this art. Hwang San was lean but his bones were unusually thick so that their body weight would be about the same. As to Hwang San's boxing, this was of such superior quality that Ma Joong placed him in the eighth, or next-highest grade. Ma Joong himself was of the ninth grade, but this advantage was neutralised by the fact that Hwang San was thoroughly familiar with the ground and repeatedly forced Ma Joong to make a stand on an uneven or slippery patch.

After a strenuous fight, Ma Joong lashed out and succeeded in crushing Hwang San's left eye with an elbow blow. Hwang San countered with a kick on Ma Joong's thigh, which greatly impeded his footwork.