Sucks books

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This cartridge bears the one mark, distinct, not possible to have
been made by any other pistol in the world. None of the Hep Sings,
all with the same make of weapons, none of the gunmen in their
employ, could duplicate that mark."
"Some bullets," reported a policeman who had been rummaging
further in the rubbish.
"Be careful, man," cautioned Craig. "They are doped. Lay them
down. Yes, this is the same gun that fired the shot at Bertha
Curtis and Nichi Moto--fired narcotic bullets in order to stop any
one who interfered with the opium smuggling, without killing the
victim."
"What's the matter?" asked O'Connor, arriving breathless from the
gambling room after hearing the shots. The Chinaman stood, still
silent, impassive. At sight of him O'Connor gasped out, "Chin
Jung!"
"Real tong leader," added Craig, "and the murderer of the white
girl to whom he was engaged. This is the goggled chauffeur of the
red car that met the smuggling boat, and in which Bertha Curtis
rode, unsuspecting, to her death.


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