“No lun! No can do,” he said, with pathetic indifference. “You call p’liceman—take Hop Wong jail. No can do,” and he sighed wearily.
“Now look here, Hop Wong,” began Luke, in what he doubtless intended for businesslike tones. “There’s no use trying to fool us. You know something about money hidden in Miss Ruth’s house and you’ve got to tell us! Do you understand? You’ve got to tell us!”
Turning to his companions Luke said in a low voice:
“I think Mr. Howbridge made a mistake trying to be kind to him. What Hop Wong needs is firmness!”
Luke’s manner seemed to have its effect. For, as if by a shake and a shudder he had cast from him some garment for which he no longer had need, the Chinese straightened up somewhat. He appeared to fill his clothes better, and then he said:
“All lite! Hop Wong tell!”
“I thought he would!” chuckled Luke. “Now we’ll get at the bottom of this puzzling mystery.”
Hop Wong accompanied the boys and girls into the hut where, it appeared, he had taken up his abode. It was simply furnished, and looked as though Hop Wong had been about to start a laundry in this country town, but had not yet done so.
“He came here—ran away—so he couldn’t be questioned,” decided Neale. “It was lucky you saw him, Luke,” he said.
“It may prove so,” agreed Luke.