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"Rather," growled Lockwood. "That fool boy, Davis's kid the car-boy, you know ran me down in the mine. I yelled at him. Somehow he couldn't stop. Two wheels went over my foot and the car loaded, too." Chino shuddered politely. "Now here's the point," continued Lockwood. "Um there's nobody round outside there? Take a look, Chino, by the window there. All clear, eh? Well, here's the point.
I have many business ventures, and one of them lies in my being a secret no, what you Americanos call a silent partner of the Chino who conducts this store. Now the favor that I ask señor, I beg you to let me present you with this handsome little box, that you may send it over the waters to your sweetheart." "Make me a present of it?" demanded Sergeant Hal in amazement.
Again the vinta shot forward, down through the shifting, treacherous delta, out into the ocean. Louder grew the beating of paddles against the Dyak war-praus, and Piang could hear the war chant. He knew that Sicto cared little for ships; he had evaded too many of them. Only the Sabah, Sicto feared, but he would probably take a chance on this being the Chino mail boat or a Spanish tramp.
She was "la Gobernadora," and her husband, a fat Chino mestizo, was immediately brought forward and introduced as "el Gobernador." He was a man of education and polish, having spent fourteen years in school in Spain, where he married his wife. After having welcomed me properly, he betook himself to the room at the head of the stairs where the men were congregated.
"And how much did the Chino want for it, if I may make bold enough to ask so much of the señor's business?" "Why, he wants a hundred dollars in gold," Hal responded. The Filipino dandy inspected the box critically. "You are right, señor; the price is too high. It could be bought for less, if you knew better how to deal with these smiling yellow heathen."
Here, again, Hulia Protestante becomes the subject of a series of attacks, in a new kind. Don Juan first exhausts his flower-garden upon her, and explains all that is new to her. Then she must see his blind Chino, a sightless Samson of a Cooly, who is working resolutely in a mill. "Canta!" says the master, and the poor slave gives tongue like a hound on the scent.
"Sí, it is true that Juanito looks for trouble." Chino Herrera rolled a cornshuck cigarette with precise, delicate twists of his fingers. "He is el chivato—the young billy goat—that one. Ready to take on el toro himself and lock horns. Such a one learns from knocks, not from warning words. But he is yet a boy. Give him time." "He’d better give himself some time," Nye announced.
Except for horses ripped by shellfire in battle, Drew had never seen any wounds such as these. He was deadly afraid that those two bullets had not really saved the stud. "Let’s have a look, Chino, bring my saddlebags!" Hunt Rennie was beside Drew. "Can you lead him back to the water hole?" he asked. "See if he’ll walk." Somehow they did it—Drew and Anse, Rennie and Teodoro.
"Not even" Hicks had leveled a forefinger at Chino, and the cold eyes drove home the injunction as the steam-hammer drives the rivet "not even your wife." And Zavalla had promised. He would have trifled with dynamite sooner than with one of Hicks's orders. So the fortnightly trips to town in company with Lockwood were explained in various fashions to Felice.
Lockwood had left her with his brain dizzy, his teeth set, his feet stumbling and fumbling down the trail, for now he knew that Felice wanted him to know that she regretted the circumstance of her marriage to Chino Zavalla; he knew that she wanted him to know that the situation was as intolerable for her as for him.
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