Big Ben sighed helplessly. All along the river the legend of the ki-chu was common property. Everybody knew of the ki-chu—some had seen those who had seen it. He was not elated that Bosambo should be counted amongst the faithful.
For the retired showman had by this time almost salved his conscience. It was enough, perhaps, that evidence of the ki-chu's being should be afforded—still he would dearly have loved to carry one of the alleged fabulous creatures back to America with him.
He had visions of a tame ki-chu chained to a stake on his Boston lawn; of a ki-chu sitting behind gilded bars in a private menagerie annexe.
"I suppose," said Mr. Hold, "you haven't seen a ki-chu—you savee—you no look 'um?"
Bosambo was on the point of protesting that the ki-chu was a familiar object of the landscape when a thought occurred to him.
"S'pose I find 'um ki-chu you dash[#] me plenty dollar?" he asked.
[#] Give.
"If you find me that ki-chu," said Mr. Hold slowly, and with immense gravity, "I will pay you a thousand dollars."
Bosambo rose to his feet, frankly agitated.
"Thousan' dollar?" he repeated.