Something told me I had a chance yet. I decided to tell the old man the truth. “Him medicine,” I answered.

“What for medicine?”

“Make you sleep.”

“What for sleep?”

“I think maybe take your money.”

“How you know me money?”

“I come your store; I look see.”

He got up, rolled his blankets away, and, raising up the small trapdoor in the floor, opened his box and made sure that it had not been disturbed. They all began talking again. I heard the fatal words “ luc zhe , luc zhe ,” which means policeman.