“Look at the scowl he’s sending after that car,” whispered Dalzell.
“His lips are moving, too,” returned Darrin, quietly observant. “If it weren’t for the look on his face I should say that our chap was praying.”
“In his case,” muttered Dalzell, “he’s more likely cursing.”
“But say,” Dave went on. “Just observe how ‘Burnt-face’ continues to glare after that car.”
“Can he have anything against the people in the car?” Dan wondered.
“It is more likely that his hatred is directed against the car itself,” Darrin replied.
“But why should he hate a mere assemblage of mechanical units?” Dan demanded.
“I suppose that, being a Chinaman, he regards an automobile as the work of the Evil One,” Dave smiled. “Your real, old-fashioned Chinaman isn’t strong for new-fangled ideas. In some parts of China the appearance of an automobile, even to-day, would rouse a mob to wild fury.”
“Queer old place, China!” uttered Dalzell.
“Since we’re waiting orders to go to China, you’ll soon know,” Dave rejoined.