"Jake Bradley!" exclaimed Dewey, recognizing him at last.
"The same old coon! Now, Dewey, what's the matter with you?"
"Nothing serious, but enough to lay me up for a time. A week since I slipped from a rock and sprained my ankle severely-so much so that I can't use it safely. I've often heard that a sprain is worse than a break, but I never realized it till now."
"Has the Chinaman taken care of you?" inquired Bradley.
"Yes; I don't know what I should have done without Ki Sing," said Dewey, with a grateful glance at the Chinaman.
"Was he with you when the accident hapened?"
"No; I lay helpless on the hillside for two hours, when, providentially, as I shall always consider it, my friend Ki Sing came along."
The Chinaman usually impassive face seemed to light up with pleasure when Richard Dewey spoke of him as his friend.
"I tell you what, Ki Sing," said Bradley, turning to the representative of China, "I never thought much of your people before, but I cheerfully admit that you're a brick."
"A blick!" repeated the Mongolian, appearing more puzzled than complimented.