“At least Pembroke doesn’t speak or understand the Chinese language,” Dalzell broke in.
“He said he didn’t,” Dave returned. “However, if Pembroke is not a gentleman and a straightforward fellow, it is as easy to believe that he lied as that he spoke the truth.”
“Don’t bother any more about it,” advised Ensign Hale bluffly. “The money is gone. As to the rest of the story, it isn’t worth puzzling your heads over. Your adventure was all grossly material. No such things as mysteries or romances are left in the world—nothing but work.”
“Nevertheless,” smiled Ensign Darrin seriously, “I shall continue to admit myself puzzled until I have succeeded in gathering certain information that I really wish.”
“What kind of information?” asked Hale.
“For instance, I want to know if ‘Burnt-face’ has any connection with the yellow boys who went through our pockets.”
“I think that at least half likely,” replied Ensign Hale gravely.
“And then, next, I want to know,” Darrin went on, “if there is any connection between ‘Burnt-face’ and Pembroke.”
“That is much less likely,” answered Hale.
“Last of all, if Pembroke is in the least shady, I’d like to know something definite about him,” wound up Ensign Dave.