Charlie Chan [6] The Keeper of the Keys

KEEPER OF THE KEYS


by Earl Derr Biggers


Published 1932.


CONTENTS


I Snow on the Mountains

II Dinner at Pineview

III The Fallen Flower

IV Upward No Road

V Downward No Door

VI Three O’clock in the Morning

VII The Blind Man’s Eyes

VIII The Streets of Reno

IX Trouble Takes Wing

X Romano’s Lucky Break

XI A Balcony in Stresa

XII So You’re Going to Truckee?

XIII Footsteps in the Dark

XIV Thought Is a Lady

XV Another Man’s Earth

XVI That Boy Ah Sing

XVII The Net Closes In

XVIII Rankin Drops a Bomb

XIX Chan Climbs a Ladder

XX After the Typhoon

Chapter I

SNOW ON THE MOUNTAINS


The train had left Sacramento some distance behind, and was now bravely beginning the long climb that led to the high Sierras and the town of Truckee. Little patches of snow sparkled in the late afternoon sun along the way, and far ahead snowcapped peaks suddenly stood out against the pale sky of a reluctant spring.

Two conductors, traveling together as though for safety, came down the aisle and paused at section seven. “Tickets on at Sacramento,” demanded the leader. The occupant of the section, a pretty blonde girl who seemed no more than twenty, handed him the small green slips. He glanced at them, then passed one to his companion. “Seat in Seven,” he said loudly. “Reno.”

“Reno,” echoed the Pullman conductor, in an even louder tone.

They passed on, leaving the blonde girl staring about the car with an air that was a mixture of timidity and defiance. This was the first time, since she had left home the day before, that she had been so openly tagged with the name of her destination. All up and down the car, strange faces turned and looked at her with casual curiosity. Some smiled knowingly; others were merely cold and aloof. The general public in one of its ruder moments.

One passenger only showed no interest. Across the aisle, in section eight, the girl noted the broad shoulders and back of a man in a dark suit. He was sitting close to the window, staring out, and even from this rear view it was apparent that he was deeply engrossed with his own affairs. The young woman who was bound for Reno felt somehow rather grateful toward him.

Presently he turned, and the girl understood, for she saw that he was a Chinese. A race that minds its own business. An admirable race. This member of it was plump and middle-aged. His little black eyes were shining as from some inner excitement; his lips were parted in a smile that seemed to indicate a sudden immense delight. Without so much as a glance toward number seven, he rose and walked rapidly down the car.

Arrived on the front platform of the Pullman, he stood for a moment deeply inhaling the chilly air. Then again, as though irresistibly, he was drawn to the window. The train was climbing more slowly now; the landscape, wherever he looked, was white. Presently he was conscious of some one standing behind him, and turned. The train maid, a Chinese girl of whose guarded glances he had been conscious at intervals all afternoon, was gazing solemnly up at him.

“How do you do,” the man remarked, “and thank you so much. You have arrived at most opportune moment. The need to speak words assails me with unbearable force. I must release flood of enthusiasm or burst. For at this moment I am seeing snow for the first time.”

“Oh - I am so glad!” answered the girl. It was an odd reply, but the plump Chinese was evidently too excited to notice that.

“You see, it is this way,” he continued eagerly. “All my life I can remember only nodding palm trees, the trade winds of the tropics, surf tumbling on coral beach -“

“Honolulu,” suggested the girl.

He paused, and stared at her. “Perhaps you have seen Hawaii too?” he inquired.

She shook her head.