"I go Big Sam. Him velly big man. No bad man catch-em me in Big Sam's house. No bad man catch-em you when me-gone."
At these words, Laura impulsively flung her arms about Moon Ying.
"You dear creature!" she cried. "Nobody shall hurt you here--and nobody will hurt us, either. My uncle can protect you much better than Big Sam, and Big Sam himself has said so."
Moon Ying tried to express more fully her fear that her presence brought danger to the household, but her language was unequal to her thought, and Laura and Mercy both talked at once to assure her that they feared nothing, and would refuse to give her up, even though all the tongs of Chinatown should come in force to demand her; so Moon Ying at last with a sigh of grateful content said:
"I likee stay--I likee you." And Laura on one side, and Mercy on the other, twined their arms about her with a laugh that was almost a sob.
It was a pretty picture of the sisterhood of Occident and Orient, and I admired it, with something of the feminine emotions raising a lump in my throat, when I was observed by the lady of the house.
"Go away," she said. "This is no place for men." And in spite of my remonstrance that I was in perfect harmony with my surroundings, I was driven forth, and went down-stairs to find Wharton Kendrick taking a Sunday afternoon nap in his den.
He gave me a sleepy greeting, but roused himself to attention at my account of the Nob Hill meeting, the midnight session of the Council of Nine, the morning meeting in Bolton's office, and the warning from Big Sam.
"Hm-m! Well, put on enough watchmen to see that we don't wake up to find our throats cut," he said. "I dare say P. Bolton is egging them on all around to do something for their money. But so far as the business goes, I think I've got everything shipshape and ready for storm. The syndicate is strong enough to protect the market, and the police can handle the Cheap John revolution, and I don't believe anybody is going to attack the house; so there's nothing to worry about. But you'd better keep in touch with your anarchist friends a little closer than you've been doing. If we can get warning over night of any particular deviltry they are going to start, it might be worth a hundred thousand dollars. Hallo! what's this?" he cried as a servant brought him a card. "Show him in." And before I could escape, General Wilson bustled through the door, his ruddy face aglow in the frame of his bristling yellow-gray side-whiskers, and his short stout frame radiating energy at every step.
"Why, God bless my soul! Kendrick--Hampden--I find you with your heads together like a pair of conspirators in the theater. Hope I don't interrupt. It does me good, Hampden, to see you youngsters pulling along in double harness with the war-horses like Kendrick and me; and you can't find a better one to pull with than Kendrick; he's the salt of the earth."