“Clorner House gals alle lite?”
“Yes, we’re here all right, Hop Wong,” answered Ruth, in steady tones. “But what does this mean? Why have you asked us out here to meet you? If you are playing any tricks——”
“No, Missie Luth, no tlicks. Hop Wong play no tlicks. I telle you lite away quick.”
Out of the moonlight shadows he came, a timid and shrinking figure of a Chinese. Ruth wondered that she had ever had a sense of fear concerning him, he seemed so slight and boyish—not much larger, in fact, than Sammy Pinkney.
“Well, Hop Wong, we are here and we’ll listen to what you have to say,” remarked Ruth.
“Hop Wong glad Missie Luth come,” said the laundryman, drawing nearer and standing fully revealed in the silvery radiance under the outermost branches of the tree. “Other Clorner House gals here?” he asked. Hop Wong did not speak as he wrote, exactly.
“Yes, we’re all here,” Ruth told him.
“Alle lite. Now Hop Wong tell. Listen! You give Hop Wong one hund’ed dollals, Hop Wong show you where much money is. You sabby?”
“What do you mean?” demanded Ruth. “Where is this much money you will show us?”
“Ah, flist you give Hop Wong one hund’ed dollals?” he cunningly demanded.