Chuba nodded his head. “Oh sure, stuffed with rice, shark fins, and sesame seeds, is real tasty.” Biff shrugged. Might as well give up. Chuba would just have to eat a genuine frankfurter some day.
The boys walked on to the edge of the town. Biff stopped before they passed through the gate. “Hold it a minute, Chuba. Something I want to ask you.”
Biff had decided to make the first move toward locating his Uncle Charlie. He considered showing Chuba the green ring. Should he do so now, or hold on to it for an ace in the hole, for a time when the ring might be the means of getting them out of a really tough jam. He’d wait.
“What you want to ask Chuba?”
“I want to know if you ever heard of a big and well-known Chinese family. It was called the House of Kwang.” Biff studied the native boy’s face.
“Sure. Chuba hear about them. Once they rich. Big rich. Own many, many acres for wheat fields. Many many acres for rice. They own big grain sheds where other people bring wheat and rice to sell them for to store it. But now no more rice. Not rich and powerful any more. Revolution and new government get rid of all big landowners.”
“Did the House of Kwang have any property, any acres around here?”
“No own acres here. But once they own big warehouse, like I say, for to buy and sell wheat and rice and all kinds clothes and things.”
“Here in this town?”
Chuba nodded his head.