[CHAPTER XV.]
A NEW TWIST—BY GEORGE.
"Speak to me about that!" gulped McGlory, as he, and Matt and Ping climbed out of the Sprite to the top of the wharf. "Little Slant-eyes has starred himself. But how he ever did it stumps me."
"How did you do it, Ping?" asked Matt, leaning against the post to which he had secured the launch and peering across the water to see if there was any sign of the San Bruno in the gloom.
"By jee-clickets," bubbled Ping, "me allee same big high China boy. Fightee like Sam Hill, workee allee same. Whoosh!"
"And that's the way he did it," commented McGlory.
"My no savvy," admitted Ping. "Plenty quick 'Melican man takee boat, plenty quick him dlop ovelbo'd, plenty quick my come back to othel boatee. No savvy ally mo."
"You did well, anyhow," said Matt.
"Awri'. My workee fo' Motol Matt allee time."
"What now, pard?" asked McGlory. "We got out of that bunch of excitement with ground to spare, but why do we tie up here? Why don't we keep right on to 'Frisco? George is going to hand us five apiece, you know," he added, with a laugh, "providing we fork over this ten thousand before the steamer sails for Honolulu."