“You seem to be wide awake yourself,” Liu said.
“Why don’t you go and get me some grub?” demanded Jimmie. “I’m near starved to death.”
“All right!” said Liu, and turned away.
Jimmie was now in a deeper puzzle than before. He had no means of knowing whether Liu was telling him the truth. He might be trying to get into his confidence in order to gain the information sought, whatever it was.
However, in a short time Liu returned with a generous supply of food, fried fish, fresh biscuit—the boy wondered how Liu had managed to bake them there—coffee, and plenty of tinned goods.
“What’s this bunch doin’ here?” the boy asked, as he made heavy inroads on the fresh fish, coffee and biscuits.
“I don’t know,” was the hesitating reply.
“I know,” Jimmie went on. “They’re smuggling opium an’ setting fire to the woods. They’ll all get pinched!”
“I hope so,” was the reply.
“It sounds odd to hear a Chinese boy talk straight United States,” Jimmie said, after a short silence.