“Then something must be mixed up, whiting and tallow ought to do it.”
“Yes, Ching see; makee head velly white.”
“That will do, then.”
“No,” said Ching sharply. “No tlouser, no boot?”
“That will not matter, my man, so long as they are right in their upper rigging.”
“Light in upper ligging!” said Ching. “Ah, you go cheat, gammon pilate?”
Mr Reardon gave him an angry look.
“You go and do— no, stop. You are quite right, my man, but don’t talk about it. Get the work done.”
“Ching see. Make nineteen twenty men look like Chinese boy. Pilate come along, say, ‘Big tea-ship. Come aboard,’ and get catchee likee lat in tlap.”
“Yes, that’s it, my man. Do you think it a good plan, Mr Herrick?” he added drily.