It was not until toward evening that he was led forth to meet this mysterious new charge. A bearded Chinese in lavender robes sat in a high box and appeared four-eyed behind his spectacles. Before him stood the avid McLean of the John Dividend, now turning at the step of his prey and feasting his single eye on the length and thinness of the American.
Romney's laugh was doubtless charged to him.
"Hello, Mac," he said, "I heard you had gone way down—"
"It has cost me a great deal to bring you face to face—"
"If I had seen you ten minutes after our meeting over the wall in Shanghai, I could have fixed that little matter—"
"It is to be fixed now. The cost of collection and the payment for personal damage received—brings the amount to twenty-five pounds. The items are all here—"
McLean presented a long paper of charges.
"I may not have that much—what in that case?"
"Back to John Dividend or rot here—"
Romney recalled that he had slightly less than a hundred dollars, which, with his other belongings, was now in the hands of the police. He offered seventy-five dollars to close McLean's claim.