"Now, see here, Chow," warned Dave, "this is the last day you sell opium for white men to smoke!"
"You heap too flesh (fresh)" growled the Chinaman.
"It's the last day you'll sell opium to white men," insisted Dave, "for, as soon as I'm through here I'm going to the police station to inform against you. They'll go through here like a twelve-inch shot."
"You alle same tell cop?" grinned Chow, green hatred showing through his skin. "Then I tell evelybody about you fliend in there."
"Do just as you please about that," retorted Dave with pretended carelessness. "For one thing, you don't know his name."
"Oh, yes, I do," swaggered Chow impudently. "Know heap 'bout him. His name alle same Pen'ton."
Seizing a marking brush and a piece of paper, Chow Hop quickly wrote out Pennington's name, correctly spelled. His ability to write English with a good hand was one of Chow's great vanities, anyway.
"You go back to your ironing board, yellow-face," warned Darrin, and something in the young third classman's face showed Chow that it would be wise to obey.
Then Hallam drew Darrin to one side, to whisper earnestly in his ear:
"Look out, old man, or you will get Pen into an awful scrape!"