Chuba shook his head.
“Well, back in America it’s our favorite Chinese food.”
Chuba looked puzzled. He still didn’t get it. He shrugged it off. “Now, we all set. No border guard ever spot you. Never tell you American boy.”
Biff had passed his test. Neither Jack Hudson nor, even more important, Ti Pao, had penetrated his disguise.
“Okay then, Chuba. We’re all set. It’s still an hour before the night mess call. I think we’d better be well on our way by then. I’ll be missed when I don’t show up for chow. And Jack Hudson will guess where I’ve headed. But by then, it will be too late, too dark, to start a search. What about food, and other stuff?”
“All set. Chuba has everything. Even bottle of juice in case you start turning back into white boy. We got food for two days. After that, Chuba get more wherever we are.”
“All right, Chuba. Now I’m really going to let your father put me out the gate. I’ll follow the river until I reach the second bend. Then I’ll wait for you.”
“All is good. Chuba be right after you. Not look good for me to leave here with lowly beggar boy.” Chuba grinned, and Biff returned his smile.
That night, by nine o’clock, the two boys were deep in the swampy jungle between the Irrawaddy River and the border of China.