Both coolies answered in one voice:
“This is a short cut, lad.”
As they went on they got more and more into the wilds of the mountains, and Bunkichi thought to himself that they might belong to that class of rascals who prey on the traveler’s pockets. Nevertheless it was too late to do anything against them, so he kept himself in perfect peace by determining not to show that he suspected them.
When the coolies were come to a trackless thicket, they put the kago down, and, thinking to pull out the boy, looked in and found him fast asleep.
They stared at one another in astonishment and said: “Why, he is sleeping! The fellow takes life easy, eh? Come, my boy, get up! get up!” and one of them poked him on the shoulder, and the other, taking hold of his foot, pulled him out.
Bunkichi rubbed his eyes and yawned twice or thrice.
“Well, Mr. Coolie,—I mean you two,—what’s the matter?”
The coolies said somewhat fiercely: “Look here; you’ve got some money with you, haven’t you?”
He answered in perfect coolness, as if nothing had happened, “Yes, I have.”
They thought more and more the lad was a pretty easy simpleton to deal with, and said: “We knew you had some fifty or sixty rio, and that is why we brought you here. Come, now, hand out all you’ve got, for if you refuse you’ll suffer for it.”