"Ah! What does become of the stolen lives?"
The sunken eyes stared playfully at him. "What is a thousand taels to him? He is rich, I tell you! They say his cellar is filled with gold—pure gold; that his rooms and halls run and drip with gold, just as his rat-eaters run and drip with the cinnabar poison. And the wireless—he has stations, and this is the best. Mine is the best. I see to that, let me tell you!"
"To be sure!"
"These hunters, these men who know his price for beautiful women—he will have none other—and who are paid a thousand taels——"
"Where did you say these stations are?"
"In all parts. There is a station in Afghanistan, between Kabul and Jalalabad, and one in Bengal, in the Khasi Hills, and another in northern Szechwan Province, and one in Siam, on the Bang Pakong River——"
"A station on the Bang Pakong?"
"Yes, I tell you. All over. These hunters find a woman, a lovely girl; and they must describe their prize in a few words. He is sly! The fewer the better. If the words appeal to him, he has me tell them to come. Lucky devils! A thousand taels to the lucky devils! Some day I myself may become a hunter."
"It is tempting," agreed Peter. "But why does he want beautiful young girls for his mine, my son?"
Harrison ignored the question.