“Never. I am your guardian. Your father gave you to me because he had faith in my manhood, he believed me to be a gentleman. You will not understand because your love blinds you, Tamea, but the white men of my world have a code and we must never break it.”
“Oh,” said Tamea softly, and her eyes filled with tears. “Of what use is money save to buy happiness? When a man takes a woman to wife does he not take all she has—all of her love, all of her wealth, all of her faith? Is she not to be the mother of his children? You are right, dear one. I could never understand your white man’s code.”
“Some day you will, honey. Kiss me good night and run along to your room, child. I am unhappy tonight and when I am unhappy I have a desire to be alone. I wish to think.”
She kissed him and went upstairs obediently; as she paused on the first landing and gazed down into the hall she saw Sooey Wan slide noiselessly into the living room, his red lacquered box still clasped under his arm. Tamea stood there, wondering—and then to her ears came distinctly the sound of money clinking merrily.
Tamea came back downstairs and peered around the jamb of the door into the living room. Sooey Wan was on his knees beside the red lacquered box, with both hands tossing out on the carpet hundreds of gold pieces, bales of yellow-backed bills and large, fat, heavy Manila envelopes.
“You count ’em, Missa Dan,” he begged when the box was empty. And Dan Pritchard, wondering, knelt beside Sooey Wan and counted long and in silence, making many notations on a piece of paper. And Tamea, watching, presently was aware that Sooey Wan, who trusted not in banks, had, in his forty-odd years in the United States, accumulated in that red lacquered box a fortune of two hundred and nineteen thousand, four hundred and nine dollars and eighty cents in cash and bonds.
“Sooey Wan,” said Dan Pritchard, “do you cook for me by day and rob people by night?”
Sooey Wan cackled merrily. “Oh, your papa always pay me big money—hund’ed, hund’ed fifty dolla month and Sooey Wan no spend velly much. But Sooey Wan play poker velly nice, velly lucky fan tan and pi gow, and bimeby I ketchum one cousin. Cousin no money hab got, but him know all about raisee vegetable. You know, Missa Dan, ketchum farm up on Saclamento Liver. So Sooey Wan makee partner with cousin and raisee early spud, ketchum more land. Velly easy. Boss, you likee Sooey Wan sellee lanch on Saclamento Liver, can do. Sure. Sellee that land plenty quick, ketchum thousand dollar for one acre, have got thlee hund’ed acre. You likee, Missa Dan, I sell for you. Sooey Wan no ketchum son, no ketchum wifee, no ketchum papa, no ketchum mama, no ketchum nobody but Missa Dan. Missa Dan allee same Sooey Wan’s boy. Eh? My boy losee money, Sooey Wan no loosum. Long time ago Sooey Wan talkee your father. Your father say: ‘Sooey, my partner, Missa Casson, no good. Heap damn fool.’ All light, I watchum.” He came close to Dan and rested his yellow old claw of a hand on the beloved shoulder. “Boy,” he said, “Sooey Wan savum all for you. You takee, you look out for Sooey Wan, givee little money for play China lottery, givee room, givee job, that’s all light. Sooey Wan likee this house. Likee live here, likee die here, then you send Sooey Wan back to China, keepee land on Saclamento Liver, keepee money, mally lady queen and have many son. I think that plenty good for my boy. Sooey Wan velly old man,” he continued pleadingly. “No can live all time. Sure you takee, boy. Then you play lone hand in office. Old man Casson no damn good.” He shrugged optimistically. “Bimeby you ketchum all your money back.”
Dan Pritchard thrust out his long arms and his fingers closed around Sooey Wan’s neck. “No,” he said, “I’m not broke. I never was broke, and I never will be broke while you and Tamea live. Thank God for you both! I couldn’t take her money, Sooey Wan, but I will take yours—later, when I need it. I’ll make you a partner in my reorganized business.” His fingers tightened around the old servant’s throat. “You old yellow devil!” he said and shook Sooey Wan vigorously. “We understand each other, I think. God bless you and bring you to some sort of Oriental heaven, you golden-hearted old heathen.”
Sooey Wan took up his untasted highball. “Hullah for hell!” he cackled, tossed off the drink, gathered up his fortune and departed for his room, chuckling like a malevolent old gnome.