“A secret?” Bob leaned forward in his chair. His friend looked up interestedly.
“Bleeg secret,” Pong Lee answered, nodding vigorously. “You must guard those rings velly close. There are much men after them.”
“You mean someone else wants to get these?” asked Joe, intensely interested.
“Yes. Much men want them. I have gleat many more. I not tell how I get them. But I say for you to watch them close. They worth much money.”
“What do these people want with them?” inquired Joe. “Are they so valuable as all that?”
Pong Lee nodded.
“They worth gleat deal,” he said. “Much times men come in here after them. They know I have a velly lot in little box. But I play tlick on them. They not find rings. I keep them hid—where no man find them. Moy Ling—he one of dangerous people. He keel you queek if he gettee chance, yes. You guard rings. They bling you much good luck.”
He arose and walked over to the corner of the room.
The youths looked at each other. They had been greatly impressed with what the little man had said.