"Maybe he's a highbinder," said Sammy in a low tone to Frank, who was seated next to him.
"What's a highbinder?" asked Frank.
"Oh, I don't know exactly," answered Sammy. "But I think they're a kind of bandit or murderer that other Chinese hire when they have somebody that they want to put out of the way."
"There you go again," murmured Frank. "Can't you ever get over guessing about people, Sammy?"
"I didn't say he was a highbinder," retorted Sammy. "I only said that he might be."
"Well, he can be a highbinder as much as he likes if he only keeps on cooking dinners like this."
They arose from the table and went into the sitting-room. Mrs. Claxton brought out her sewing and all settled down for a pleasant hour or two of conversation.
The Claxtons had a host of questions to ask about the parents of George and Frank. Then they questioned the boys about the incidents of their trip and listened with great interest to their replies.
It is needless to say that Sammy was careful to say nothing about the baseball incident, and it must be put down to the credit of the others that they were equally silent on that point.
While they were talking, Sammy's eyes had been fastened upon a great skin that lay on the sitting-room floor. At the first lull in the talk, he asked what it was.