Chinaman's Chance - Sex Stories

Chinaman's Chance

... him. Was my friend in trouble? "Uh, spinach? Are you Olive Oyl?" Shit! Tom must have sent him. "I'm Olive Oyl. Where's Popeye?" I urged. "The police got him," he said. "I think they beat him to death." My heart broke. Another person I cared about was gone from my life and I was responsible for sending him on this mission. Another death on my conscience. Another reason to seek vengeance. The boy's name was Bobby and he was ten years old. Bobby ran occasional errands for Tom and my friend had recently hired the boy at a rate of ten cents a day to hang around Sam Butler's old neighborhood and listen out for gossip. There was a two-bit bonus for any useful information. Bobby had returned from his assignment to report to his employer just in time to see one of the policemen crack open Tom's skull with a billy club. From the boy's description of the cop, the killer was Mike Peters. "They had somebody take the body away," Bobby said. "I heard one of the lawmen say Tom was already like that when they found him." "Do you know for sure that Tom is dead? Where did they take him? Do you think you were spotted?" I now felt responsible for the safety of this child. He shook his head. "I don't know for sure, but I can find out. Anyway, nobody notices little kids. I was even able to follow them to their hideout without them noticing. They're there now. That's why I was late." Bobby explained that Tom had shared the necessary contact information with him in case anything happened to Tom. I ...

... asked Bobby where the two cops were now, but he said he would have to show me because I would never find it by myself. I thought that was bullshit, but I couldn't convince him to let me have the address even after I tried to bribe him with a double eagle. I finally gave up. "Let's go then," I said. I was dressed as a coolie again which wasn't much of a disguise, but I was armed to the teeth. Bobby told me he lived with his mother and sister. Lately, he had been living on the streets and fending for himself because there often wasn't enough to eat at home. He also told me what he had learned from Sam Butler's former neighbors. "Slip this inside your pocket," I said and handed him the double eagle. "Do you have something smaller?" Bobby responded. "My mother will think I robbed a bank and people will try to take it away from me the minute I try to use it." "You're pretty smart for a ten-year-old. I'll have to get you the small change later." "Thanks. Uh, are you going to kill those two lawmen?" "Yes," I said simply. "Good. I want to see those two bilge-rats dead. Tom was my friend." "Please don't talk like he's dead. He might still be alive. Please find out. I'll pay for whatever medical care he needs." We finally came to a narrow alley off Pacific Avenue in the heart of the Barbary Coast. Bobby pointed at a single window on the top floor of a two-story building. There was an outside staircase leading up to the second floor. "They're still up there," Bobby said. "You can shoot ...