It seemed like a deadlock, and Ah Sin wrinkled his parchmentlike face.
“How you likee hire China boy?” he cried. “My cookee grub, blushee clo’s, makee plenty fine man. Workee fo’ twenty dol. Tolo him no stay in Tlinidad; him makee sail fo’ Pala.”
“Para?” burst from Glennie.
That was the port to which the important papers were consigned. If Tolo had gone there with them, it may have been for the purpose of treating with the consular agent direct.
“All same,” pursued the Chinaman. “You makee hire China boy, takee him by Pala, pay twenty dol fo’ wages, then givee fitty dol when you findee Tolo. Huh?”
“How do you happen to know where Tolo is?” demanded Glennie skeptically.
“My savvy Tolo. Makee work on landing when he takee boat fo’ Pala. Him makee come on one boat flom Ven’zuel’, makee go chop-chop on other boat fo’ Pala. Ah Sin makee chin with Tolo. Him say where he go in Pala.”
Glennie grabbed at this straw of hope like a drowning man. Ah Sin’s information might not be dependable, but it was the only clew that had come Glennie’s way, and he decided to make the most of it.
“There’s your twenty dol,” said he, throwing a gold piece to the Chinaman. “You’re hired. Make yourself scarce out there while I talk with the skipper of this boat.”