“What I want to know,” said Frank, “is how it happens that I find you two together here in San Francisco.”
“Vale,” said Hans, “I comes me oudt here to visit mein cousin, Fritz, undt I runs me acrost Parney.”
“But, Barney, the last I knew of you you were in London with your Sister Bridget. I didn’t suppose you were in America.”
“It’s an accidint Oi’m here at all, at all,” averred the Irish lad. “An’ it’s yesilf thot’ll be moighty interisted whin Oi tells yez how thot accidint happened.”
“Yah,” nodded Hans; “he vos sure to trop deat ven you toldt him der odder berson of dot vas San Vrancisco in.”
“I am getting intensely interested already,” said Frank. “Go ahead, Barney, and tell the story. We’ll all sit down and listen.”
“Excuse me if I lie down,” murmured Browning, as he stretched his massive frame on a couch. “I am troubled of late with that tired feeling.”
“Vot you took vor him?” asked Hans, anxiously. “I’d vos tangerous ven you let him go und don’t took nottings.”
“The best thing I have found to take for it is a rest.”
“Do you know why the Chinese make such good actors?” asked Rattleton.