Short Stories
him, alive preferably, dead if necessary. At the end of half a
day's fighting, the patrolmen had drawn off in wrecked boats,
with one of their number killed and three wounded. And
when they returned next morning with reinforcements they
found only the mooring-stakes of Big Alec's ark; the ark itself
remained hidden for months in the fastnesses of the Suisun
tules.
"But why was he not hanged for murder?" I demanded.
"Surely the United States is powerful enough to bring such a
man to justice."
"He gave himself up and stood trial," Charley answered. "It
cost him fifty thousand dollars to win the case, which he did
on technicalities and with the aid of the best lawyers in the
state. Every Greek fisherman on the river contributed to the
sum. Big Alec levied and collected the tax, for all the world
like a king. The United States may be all-powerful, my lad, but
the fact remains that Big Alec is a king inside the United
States, with a country and subjects all his own."
"But what are you going to do about his fishing for stur-
geon? He's bound to fish with a 'Chinese line.'"
Charley shrugged his shoulders. "We'll see what we will
see," he said enigmatically.
Now a "Chinese line" is a cunning device invented by the
people whose name it bears. By a simple system of floats,
weights, and anchors, thousands of hooks, each on a separate
leader, are suspended at a distance of from six inches to a foot
above the bottom. The remarkable thing about such a line is the
hook. It is barbless, and in place of the barb, the hook is filed
long and tapering to a point as sharp as that of a needle. These
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