“Sitee down,” he directed his visitors, pointing to two crude chairs. “I want talk with you.”
The boys did as told, wondering what was meant.
After a short silence the little man continued.
“You did me gleat good—gettee me out of upset machine,” he began. “For that I want give you something to bling you much good luck.”
“Good luck?” repeated Bob wonderingly, and then watched the Chinaman walk over to a tall cabinet in the corner of the room.
The latter opened a drawer, looked about carefully to see that no one other than the boys was looking at him, and then took out something.
“Here,” he said, unfastening the lid of a tiny box, “are two good luck rings. I want you wear them—all tlime. They bling you much good luck. Wear them and you will keepee away flom all evil.”
He handed the boys each a grotesque ring, which was engraved in many queer Oriental figures. Bob’s ring was particularly odd. On it were depicted two curious dragons, one of which was spouting fire.
“Why—thank you very much.” Joe was delighted. Of course, he had no faith in the charm the ring was supposed to have possessed, but he appreciated it as a rare piece of Chinese jewelry.
“You velly welcome,” Pong Lee said. “But there is a secret about those rings. You must know.”