CHAPTER XI.
HIS NAME WAS MEEN FUN.
The sun was just rising above the distant horizon next morning when Jack woke up, pushed open the folds of the canvas of the tent occupied by himself and Charlie Fox, and looked out.
He saw a figure poking around the cook stove under the awning erected to protect the cooking department from the weather, and his first idea was that it was Meyer preparing an early breakfast.
A second glance, however, assured him it was altogether a different sort of person from the fat German boy.
It was, in fact, a gaunt, sad-eyed Chinaman.
“B’gee!” he exclaimed, “it’s a Chink. He’ll be stealing some of our things if I don’t head him off.”
He pulled on his garments and dashed into the open.
“Hello, there!” he shouted. “What are you doing there?”
The Chinaman turned around slowly, and grinned a ghastly sort of grin.
“Me hungry, allee same starvee. Fastee heap fo’ day. Feelee all gone.”
His looks certainly bore out his statement, and Jack felt sorry for him at once.
“Where did you come from, John?”
“San Flancisco.”
“So far as that, eh?”
The heathen nodded solemnly and then rubbed his stomach.
“All right,” said Jack; “I’ll get you something to eat.”
The boy found some remains of the fish they had had the evening previous, also a chunk of bread.
He handed them over to the Chinaman, and the fellow made short work of them.
“Feelee bettee now,” he said, with a cheerful grin on his sallow countenance.
“Tasted good, did it?”
“Bettee lifee. You wantee hile? Wolkee cheap.”
At this juncture Gideon Prawle issued from his tent, followed by Meyer.
“Shimmany Christmas!” ejaculated Dinkelspeil, as soon as his gaze rested on the Mongolian. “Vot you calls dot fellers? Oh, yaw, he vos a Shinyman, ain’d id?”
“Where did you spring from, Chink?” asked Prawle, surveying the new arrival curiously.
“No springee. Walkee long way. No lidee on lailload. ’Causee why, no gottee scads. Bouncee quickee no payee.”
“Well, I guess yes. Looks half starved, don’t he?” to Jack.
“Say, you ought to have seen him eat what we had left over. Wants a job.”
“What can you do, Chink?”
“Most anything. But no callee Chink. Namee Meen Fun.”
“Oh, your name is Meen Fun, eh?”
“Collect,” grinned the moon-eyed one.
“Where did you work last?”
“San Flancisco.”
“What did you do—wash clothes?”
“No washee. Fo’ companee bling from China. Catchee place in Chinee bankee on Dupontee stleet. Workee up to nicee fat job, allee same plesident.”
“What’s that?” asked Prawle. “President of the Chinese bank?” in some amazement.
“Sure popee,” grinned the Celestial. “Me startee out on own hookee. Keepee bookee, keepee cashee, pay intlest, sabbe?”
“He must be a peach,” remarked Jack.
“More like a big liar,” grunted Prawle. “They all are.”
“Heap fine bankee, fine safee, heap big sign. Plenty Chinaman deplositors come filst off. One he say, ‘Mistoe Bankee Plesident, me catchee some monee washy-washy—maybe tlee hundled dollah—you keepee him for me?’ I tellee him, ‘Sure Mikee. Puttee in safee. Pay intlest.’”
“The dickens you say,” gasped Prawle.
“Another comee; he say, ‘Me winee sebbenty dollah, catchee buttee in guttee—makee heap fine cigalettes—you keepee?’ ‘Allee light,’ me say, and sockee wad in safee. Plenty scads come inee—more’n ’steen hundled dollah. Me livee high—eatee loast beef, maccaloni, flied rice, lasbelly puddin’. All sudden Chinamen all comee and wantee boodlee back. Want buy lotlee tickee, some other foolee t’ingee. Me lookee in safe, countee scads, tellee come back to-mollah fo’ clockee, gettee wad den. When all go, me pullee down blind, packee glip, puttee in boodle, skippee out filst train, go Saclamento, changee namee, gettee dlunk, blowee in wad, laise old Nickee; in mornin’ findee me busted, walkee lailload tie, bimeby gettee lost, most starvee, now me leady to wolk—cookee, washee, ilon—anything.”
“Suffering jewsharps, if you ain’t the biggest liar I ever met—and I’ve seen some good one in my time—you may throw me into the creek!” said Prawle, in a tone of disgust.
“No liee—tellee tluth allee samee Melican man.”
“Are you willing to wheel a barrow?” asked Prawle, pointing to one of those useful instruments.
“Sure t’ingee. Me wheelee ballow.”
“All right. We’ll see how long you last.”
“Me lastee allee light.”
So Meen Fun was admitted to the companionship of the party, and after breakfast was put to work helping to take the rest of the things from the flatboat.
When at length Prawle, Jack and Charlie entered the mine, leaving Meyer to watch on the outside, they took Meen Fun with them.
Several lanterns were suspended at various points within the old deserted copper mine, and their bright glow furnished sufficient illumination for digging and other purposes connected with the mining operations.
Then the boys, under the experienced direction of Gideon Prawle, got busy; and it was not very long before Meen Fun made his appearance on the outside with his first load.
It was Meyer’s duty to separate the copper ore from the loose dirt, and pitch the former into the bottom of the boat.
“Dis vos a skinch,” mused the German boy, when he started in to make himself useful; but, by and by, when the novelty of the work began to wear off, and the heat of the sun commenced to get in its work, Dinkelspeil began to entertain quite a different opinion of the job.
“By shimmany! I beliefs dis vos harder den vorkings der pestels in der mortars for oldt Fox. Efery dimes I finish ub a pile dot Shinyman brings oud anodder load. Vouldn’t it make you veeps to dink off it?”
But there was no let up for Meyer till it was time for him to set about preparing the noonday meal.
“Noddings vill be left off me bud a grease spot by der dime dot old poat vas filled up.”
When Meen Fun observed Meyer beginning his culinary operations he dropped the barrow and offered to assist.
“Nein,” objected Dinkelspeil. “Go py your pizness apoud quick. I mineseluf am der shief cook und pottle vashers.”
“Me makee nicee lasbelly puddin’s you catchee bellies.”
“Off you don’d chase yourseluf purty quick I vill fall on you, und den you vill haf to be swept up.”
So Meen Fun had to return to his wheelbarrow.
“We’ve done pretty well for a beginning, haven’t we, Mr. Prawle?” asked Jack, when they knocked off work about noon.
“Certain sure you have. Rather close in that hole. We must try and dig an outlet through the roof.”
“What are we going to do about that big mass of ore in the corner?” asked Charlie.
“Shatter it with small charges of dynamite. Those small cases I had you move ashore so carefully and put yonder under that canvas covering—that’s explosive.”
Then all hands sat down to dinner.