The Chinaman smiled feebly, and there was a look of apology in his eyes as he said meekly:
“Plentee bad man makee Sin all aflaid. One man enough one man fight. One man can’tee fight gleat many. Only one Sin takee big knife and chop off head.”
“But you went away instead,” growled Stan sourly. “Look here, sir, I’ve a good mind to kick you.”
“What good? Stan-lee kick Sin, Sin go ’way and cly. No good cookee bleakfast.”
“Then I won’t kick you,” said the boy, who felt mollified by the suggestion of hot tea and cake contained in the man’s speech. “Here! run off and fetch the barber. Bring here.”
“No come. Shavee many man.”
“You say ‘Dollar,’ and bring him along.”
The Chinaman grinned and nodded.
“Come now,” he said, and turned to go, but stopped short directly to look curiously at his young master.
“Well,” said Stan, “why don’t you go?”