“Sam Lee kid say you come look see for hog lard when me gone. When come back I bling him.”
He held out a broken bean-pot containing the desired article. Sandy Larch took it, sniffing it critically.
“Good boy, Chang,” he said, in approval. “And you just remember this that I tell you: Broome an’ Mr. Westcott, they’ve most likely bin arrangin’ a series o’ Salvation Army joss meetings, fer to convert all you Chinks. Sabbee dat?”
“Me sabbee.”
“All right, then; you just sashay back an’ git on your cookin’ job. That’s all.”
He put a broad hand on the Chinaman’s shoulder and turned him about.
“Allee lightee,” Wing Chang said, and went his way, smiling, inscrutably.
CHAPTER VI
“I’m sure you ought to have stayed longer,” Helen Anderson said. “Such a hurt as you had can’t be well by now.”
Gard, from the saddle, thrust forth his hurt foot and moved it about.