"Hang it all!" cried Burroughs, "I had absolutely nothing to do with it. Sing Wen is the culprit."
"Qui facit per alium----"
"Oh, shut up! He wasn't my agent."
"You'll find it hard to prove that after giving him a hundred dollars. Better see the fellow and save scandal. I'll stand by you, Moley."
Burroughs got out of bed, muttering anathemas, threw on his dressing-gown, and went to the door, followed by Errington. The sight of the grinning China boy waiting there with his shaving-can exasperated him, and Chin Tai shrank against the wall before his master's glare.
They went down-stairs. On the step at the outer door squatted the sleek form of the highly respectable brother-in-law of Sing Wen's brother. He rose and kow-towed humbly.
"Now, what do you want?" said Burroughs sternly.
"My velly solly come this time wakee up hon'ble genelum," said the man. "My catchee plenty smart inside. Sing Wen he pay-lo hantun[#] dolla fo' Toitsche genelum moustachee. Mandalin he makee my pay-lo hantun dolla squeeze.[#] My catchee nuffin, losee my numpa one cutsoma; he no belongey my shop no mo'e. Hai! plenty bad pidgin. Wuss pidgin all-same. My pay-lo barber fella tin[#] dolla fo' fixee moustachee. My losee hantun dolla one time, 'nother time tin dolla; my tinkee hon'ble genelum pay-lo tin dolla, my wailo all plopa inside."
[#] Hundred.
[#] Fine.