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The Chinaman looked up: "Me strikee pay dirt; me no bury dead 'Melican in 'em grave. Me keep 'em claim." The corpse sat up erect: "Jim, git my revolver and chase that pig-tail off. Jump his dam sepulchre, and tax his camp five dollars each fer prospectin' on the public domain. These Mungolyun hordes hez got to be got under. And-I say-Jim! 'f any more serpents come foolin' round here drive 'em off.
The offer was not made in vain; the hands had scarce yet realised the magnitude of the reward, they had scarce begun to buzz aloud in the extremity of hope and wonder, ere the Chinese cook stepped forward with gracious gestures and explanatory smiles. "Captain," he began, "I serv-um two year Melican navy; serv-um six year mail-boat steward. Savvy plenty."
"Me no shabbee Pilat inside housee; me shabbee Pilat outside housee. Spose you lun away longside Chinee boy Chinee boy makee you Pilat." Hickory softly scratched his leg while a broad, bashful smile, almost closed his small eyes. "Wot!" he asked. "Mebbee you too frightened to lun away. Melican boy's papa heap lickee." This last infamous suggestion fired the corsair's blood.
Polly, who had closely followed the story, albeit with the embellishments of her own imagination, made her eyes rounder than ever. A bland smile broke on Wan Lee's face, as, to the children's amazement, he quietly disengaged himself from the group and stepped before the leader. "Melican man plenty foolee Melican chillern. No foolee China boy! China boy knowee you. You no Led Lofer.
Starbottle of this place, in front of the Eureka Saloon. Two shots were fired by the parties without injury to either, although it is said that a passing Chinaman received fifteen buckshot in the calves of his legs from the colonel's double-barreled shotgun, which were not intended for him. John will learn to keep out of the way of Melican man's firearms hereafter.
They regarded him with new respect, now that it was found he had overpowered the powerful O'Reilly. Among those who congratulated him was his Mongolian friend, Ki Sing. "Melican man good fightee-knock over Ilishman. Hullah!" "Come with me, Ki Sing," said Dewey. "I will take care of you till to-morrow, and then you had better go."
You belongee one time Flance!" he questioned, touching the sleeve of her Red Cross uniform. "Yes, we all were in France. I drove an ambulance there; Mr. Wingate was an aviator, and the other young ladies worked in hospitals and canteens. How do you know about France?" "Me cook-man in Melican army. No likee war. Belongee too muchee number one blam, blam!" "You mean the shooting?
"Melican man shakee too much!" he protested. Bradley did not hear him, for he had again resumed conversation with Dewey. "Is that your boy, Bradley?" asked the invalid, glaring at Ben, who modestly kept in the background. "No, it's a young friend of mine that I came across in 'Frisco. His name is Ben Stanton. I don't believe you can guess what brought us up here among the mountains."
No one would have resented it more than Mr. Patrick O'Reilly, whose rank as regards enlightenment and education certainly was not very high. "I say, John," said Dick Roberts, "are you fond of rat pie?" "Lat pie velly good," returned Ki Sing, with a look of appreciation. "Melican man like him?" "Hear the haythen!" said O'Reilly, with an expression of deep disgust.
Early in the morning, Richard Dewey awakened Ki Sing. "You had better not stay here, Ki Sing," he said. "There are those who would do you mischief. Go into the mountains, and you may find gold. There you will be safe." "Melican man velly good-me go," said the Chinaman submissively. "Good luck to you, Ki Sing!" "Good luckee, Melican man!"
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