“Wild horses—not if they have all the mounted police in London—shan’t keep me out. But whither The Tigress was bound or who the owner was lay beyond the reach of Ah Cum's deductions. I could not become an Oracle. Take my word for it, your troubles are over. What a pig she was. There was a sharp knocking at the outside door. She gaped at its keep, at least ten feet tall, a frightening gray coffin turned upright. I’m not a lovesick boy. ” “No shit. "Write as I dictate," he cried, placing a pen in the jailer's hand and a pistol to his ear. "The door!—the door!—death!" he added, as he tried the handle, "it is locked—and I am unarmed.
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