“No, my orders. Tuan he say take everything,” he muttered.
Then came Frank’s turn. As with Harry one by one his most treasured possessions were stripped from him by the immobile faced, yellow man. But suddenly something happened that had been entirely unlooked for. Frank had entirely forgotten the squatting Buddha, which he had placed in his pocket the day the moonshiner had sold it to him, and had not given it a thought since.
Now, however, the serang’s searching hand found it in the boy’s pocket and the effect on him was electrical.
He fell on his knees reverentially before the absurd looking piece of jade and beat his head on the damp floor and then gazed at Frank in awe.
“How came you by this, master?” he asked.
Frank saw that the possession of the thing had made a strong effect on the man and that to deceive him as to the fact in the case, might have a beneficial bearing on their position, so he simply shook his head and as Harry would have said, “looked wise.”
“Him great Buddha of Lhasa,” moaned the serang, bobbing up and down before it. “You great man. Me worship you if you give him me for keep.”
“Why don’t you steal it from us; we can’t prevent you?” Harry could not help saying.
“No can steal. If steal heap curse all time. Plenty soon die,” was the response, “but if give then great blessing—plenty blessing all time.”
A sudden idea struck Frank.