At the end of the week, Eileen’s father telegraphed his acceptance of the offers made for his property the previous Monday. But these offers were already withdrawn, and even ridiculous prices were hard to get, as everyone was keen on selling and no one at all anxious to purchase.
It was the old story, which had repeated itself time and again in almost every new town and settlement on the American Continent. Someone had to bear the burden of it at the finish. No one was particularly anxious to be that one. All were scrambling to get out from under. Mother Earth and Father Money had put their feet down, as they always do, sooner or later.
In the midst of the excitement, Phil and Jim had a strange visitor. For the first time to their knowledge, he was Canadianised in appearance. His slippers were substituted for boots, his loose-fitting clothes were in the discard for a second-hand suit of European model, several sizes too big for him, and he was minus his pig-tail.
At first glance, Jim was unable to recognise him, then he laughed.
“Good land, Phil! See what the breeze has blown in. Ah Sing!
“How-do, Ah,––or is it, Sing!”
“Ya! You lemember me,––Ah Sing! Me allee same Canadian.”
The Chinaman was brazen as brass. But evidently he had something on his mind.
“Me no work any more lanch. Bossee man no likee Chinaman!”