I spoke firmly, looking him in the eyes frankly, and finished my argument for the defense with as much force and feeling as any barrister ever put into a plea for a client’s life. His face was blank as a board. His little brownish-black eyes were fastened on mine, but I saw no hope in them. I couldn’t even tell whether he had understood what I said. After studying me for a long time he turned and said something to one of his boys. The boy went into the bunk room and came back with a heavy meat cleaver that the Chinese use to chop pork and fowl. Another order and I was lifted, box and all, out of the corner and placed in the middle of the room. The China boy with the cleaver stepped behind me.