"You've got to have a reason for everything? Well, I haven't any reason for that, but I think it, all the same."
"Ping!" called Matt.
The Chinese boy was standing by the front of the aëroplane, patting the forward rudders affectionately, looking at the machine with a fond eye, and apparently exulting over the fact that it had been saved from destruction.
At Matt's call, the boy whirled around and ran toward his two friends.
"Whatee want, Motol Matt?" he asked.
"You came here with the Hindoo," said Matt. "How was that?"
"My follow Hindoo flom tent. Him no gettee sick. My savvy. When McGloly makee lun flom tent, Hindoo jump to feet chop-chop, feel plenty fine. Him makee play 'possum. Whoosh! When him come, my come, too."
"Talk about that!" exclaimed McGlory. "Worse, and more of it. There's a hen on of some kind, pard."
"Ping," proceeded Matt, "I've got a job for you."
"Bully!" cried the Chinaman delightedly.