“It’s no joke, captain; it’s dead earnest. The party is a Joss, and that’s where it is.”
“What do you mean by a Joss?”
“It seems that a Joss is a sort of a kind of a god of the country, as it were.”
Luke’s grin became more cavernous.
“Are you suggesting that we should raid a temple; is that what you’re after?”
“Well, no, not quite that. This party, although a Joss, is an Englishman.”
“An Englishman!”
“Yes, an Englishman; and having had enough of being a Joss he wants to get back to his native land, ‘England, home and beauty,’ and that kind of thing, and he’s willing to pay high for getting there.”
“Where’s the risk?”
“Well, it seems that the people in these parts think a good deal of him, and they don’t care to have their gods and such-like cut their lucky whenever they think they will. Besides, he wouldn’t want to come empty-handed.”