“All light,” announced Ah Moy, cheerfully. “Give me money.”
“Here it is,” replied Larry, producing the bills, and holding them where the Chinese could see them. “Now you tell me.”
Ah Moy leaned forward, first taking care to look out toward the street, and see that no one was headed for his store. Then he whispered:
“Yo’ find door where Lising Sun painted, an’ yo’ find Pleter, an’ maybe somebody else, li’l feller what cly all time.”
“Do you mean my little brother?” exclaimed Larry, in great excitement.
“Give me money!” cried Ah Moy, snatching the bills from Larry’s hand. “Me tell yo’ where yo’ go. Look for Lising Sun, an’ you find Pleter. Now go. Me no like to have yo’ here!”
Then, before Larry could make any objections, if he had thought to do so, the Celestial grabbed the boy by the shoulders, and thrust him, though not very roughly, out of the front door and into the street. Larry heard Ah Moy close and lock the portal behind him, and realized the Chinese had taken an effective method of getting rid of him.
“Well, of all the queer proceedings,” remarked Larry. “I seem to be getting deeper and deeper into the mystery.”
He turned to look at the one-eyed image, but Ah Moy had pulled down the shades, and the place had every appearance of being deserted.
“The rising sun,” murmured Larry. “I wonder what he meant. Seems to me that’s what they call China or Japan, I’ve forgotten which. I hope they haven’t taken Jimmy away off there.”