"Yes; I speak English."
"Fine! I'll be wanting a guide. Where can I get one?" asked
O'Higgins.
"I am one."
"All right. I'll be with you in a jiffy." Quarter of an hour later O'Higgins stepped off the gangplank. He carried a small bag. "This your regular business?"
"For the present. Will you be wanting me alone?" asked Ah Cum. "I generally take a party."
"What'll it cost to have you all to myself for the day?"
Ah Cum named the sum. He smiled inwardly. Here was one of those Americans who would make him breathless before sundown. The booming voice and the energetic movements spoke plainly of hurry.
"You're on," said O'Higgins. "Now, lead me to a hotel where I can get breakfast. Wait a moment. I've got an address here."
O'Higgins emptied an inside pocket—and purposely let the battered photograph fall to the ground. He pretended to be unaware of the mishap. Politely Ah Cum stooped and recovered the photograph. He rose slowly and extended it. An ancient smile lay on his lips.
"You dropped this, sir."