"What-a-matter you?" he demanded. "What for you want to know?"
"Hip Sing?" I persisted. "See Yup? Sam Yup? What tong?"
"You sabbee China tong?" he asked.
"Oh, sure! You tell me, King. I keep him quiet. I no tell."
"Say!" he exclaimed, approaching me, grinning, "sometime you help me get away?"
"You in trouble, eh? What's the matter! Hatchet-men after you?"
He still grinned in the absurd way Celestials have, when the subject is most serious. "No catchee me!" he declared.
"Oh, I see. They're trying to find you, eh? What's the matter? You steal China girl? You take tong money? You kill Sam Yup man, maybe?"
He kept his grin and his secret. "Tha's all light, no catchee me!" was all I could get out of him. But I thought I had a suspicion as to why he was contented to stay alone, so far from any of his race, and never go to town or even smoke opium or play fan-tan at the Harbor.
III