"His cousin's got a truck farm over by Medlow—or used to have," Worth supplied, and Chung looked to him, instantly.
"You sabbee," he said hopefully. "I go iss mo'ning—all same any day—not find out 'bout Boss. Too bad. Too velly much bad." A pause, then, looking around at the four of us, "I get dinner?"
"We've all had something to eat, Chung," Worth said. "You go now fix room. Make bed. To-night, I stay; Mr. Boyne here stay; Mr. Edwards stay. Fix three rooms. Good fire."
"All 'ite," the chink would have ducked out then, Jim Edwards after him, but I stopped the proceedings with,
"Hold on a minute—while we're all together—tell us about that visitor Mr. Gilbert had last night." I was throwing a rock in the brush-pile in the chance of scaring out a rabbit. I was shooting the question at Chung, but my eye was on Edwards. He glared back at me for a moment, then couldn't stand the strain and looked away. At last the Chinaman spoke.
"Not see um. I go fix bed now."
"Hold on," again I stopped him. "Worth, tell him those beds can wait. Tell him it's all right to answer my questions."
"'S all 'ite?" Chung studied us in turn. I was keeping an inconspicuous eye on Edwards as I reassured him. "'S all 'ite," he repeated with a falling inflection this time, and finished placidly, "You want know 'bout lady?"
"What's all this?" Edwards spoke low.
"About a lady who came to see Mr. Gilbert last night," I explained shortly; then, "Who was she, Chung?"