But it was one thing for Hop Wong to promise to tell; the performance was another matter. He was willing, but his choice, use and command of the English language left much to be desired.
Sitting amid his humble possessions in the lonely cottage, while on empty boxes for seats Ruth, Agnes, Luke and Neale faced him, the Celestial began his recital.
He gibbered and slithered about “two men—topside man—number lun man—much dolls—Clorner House”—and so on until Luke raised his hands in despair.
“I don’t wonder Mr. Howbridge couldn’t make anything of it,” he groaned. “It’s worse than I expected.”
“What can be done?” asked Ruth. “He seems willing to tell, but I can’t make any sense of it.”
“Nor I,” sighed Agnes.
“Tell him to sing it!” chuckled Neale, at the conclusion of a long-drawn and high-pitched stream of words of which only a few were intelligible to Hop Wong’s auditors.
“Wait a minute! We’ll get something out of this yet,” declared Luke. “You don’t have to be back any certain time, do you?” he asked Ruth and Agnes. “I mean at home?”
“No, I suppose not,” admitted Ruth. “Mrs. MacCall and Linda will look after Dot and Tess. As for Hal and Nalbro, they are going to the movies in town, after they get their tickets, and they won’t be home till late. But why do you ask, Luke?”
“Because I want to take Hop Wong and all of us over to Millville. It isn’t far and there’s a Chinese student there, spending his vacation, who, I think, can take Hop Wong in hand and get something out of him.”