“Oh, Li Choo! So Li Choo comes into this, eh? So he said fly to Orlando, eh? Well, that’s what he would do. But why Li Choo—a Chinaman? Tell me, what does Li Choo know?”
Quickly she told him the story of the day when Joel Mazarine had almost surprised her in Orlando’s room; how Li Choo had saved the situation by falling down the staircase with the priceless porcelain, and how Mazarine had kicked him—“manhandled” him, as they say in the West.
“Chinamen don’t like being kicked, especially Chinamen of Li Choo’s station,” remarked the Young Doctor meditatively. “You don’t know, of course, that Li Choo was a prince or a big bug of some sort in his own country. Why he left China I don’t know, but I do chance to know that if another Chinky meets Li Choo carrying a basket on his shoulders, or a package in his hand, he kow-tows, and takes it away from him, and carries it himself.... No, I don’t know why Li Choo is here in Askatoon, or why he’s such a slave to Mrs. Mazarine; but I do know that he’s a different-looking man when a Chinky runs up against him than when he’s choring at Tralee. A sick Chinaman told me only a week ago that Li Choo was ‘once big high boss Chinaman in Pekin.’... And so the mandarin advised you to fly to Orlando, did he? I wonder if it’s a way they have in China.”
“But I wouldn’t go. I’ve come to you—Patsy Kernaghan brought me,” Louise urged.
“Yes, I see you’ve come to me,” remarked the Young Doctor dryly, “and you’ve stayed about long enough for me to feel your pulse and diagnose your case. And now you’re going back with Patsy Kernaghan to your own home.”
She trembled; then she seemed to strengthen herself in defiance. What a change it was from the child of a few weeks ago—indeed, of a few moments ago! The same passionate determination which seized her when she faced Mazarine with Orlando, possessed her again. With her whole being palpitating, she said: “I will not go back. I will not go back. I will kill myself first.”
“That would be a useless sacrifice of yourself and others,” the Young Doctor answered quietly. Seeing that the new thing in her was not to be conquered in a moment, he quickly made up his mind what to do.
“See,” he continued, “you needn’t go back to Tralee to-night, but you’re not going to stay here, dear child. I’ll take you over to Nolan Doyle’s ranch, to Mrs. Doyle. You’ll spend the night there, and we’ll think about to-morrow when to-morrow comes. You certainly can’t stay here. I’m not going to have it.
“Bless you, you’re neither so young nor so old as all that!”
Suddenly he grasped both her arms and looked her in the face. “My dear young lady,” he said gently, “I’m not your only friend, but I’m a stout friend—so stout that there isn’t a mount can carry us both together. When you ride, I walk; when I ride, you walk—you understand? We don’t walk or ride together. I’m taking care of you. Your life is too good to be ruined by rashness. You’re in a ‘state,’ as my old housekeeper would say, but you’ll be all right presently. As soon as I’ve made a salad, and had a marrowbone, you and I and Patsy Kernaghan are going to Nolan Doyle’s ranch.... My dear, you must do what I say, and if you do, you’ll be happy yet. I don’t see how, quite, but it is so; and meanwhile, you mustn’t make any mistakes. You must play the game. And now come and have some supper.”