"Beg your pardon," said Scotty with a grin, "but they arn't all bad."
"Every damn one," said Joe, writhing.
"All klootchmen no good, I say," Pete cried once more.
"You had a mother, lad," said the Engineer severely.
Pete shook his head.
"That all light, Mr. Engineer, but she no good neither. She sell my poo' damn sister to the man at Kamloops that had the ranche Cultus Muckamuck Quin got now, sell her for two dolla, I tink. And now Cultus got her too."
Scotty having no more remarks to make, yanked the whistle lanyard. It was six o'clock.
"This is a hell of a country for a mahn wi' ony releegion in him," said Scotty.
He turned savagely on his Chinese helper.
"Now then, Fan, you wooden image, get a move on you: hump yersel', man, or I'll scupper you."