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Pilate fliend both come in cleek after, to see what Queen Victolia jolly sailor boy go to do." "Are you sure?" said Mr Brooke excitedly. "Yes, sir, I see the top of one of their sails," said Tom Jecks. "Then, by George, we are in the right track," cried Mr Brooke, and, as my heart began to beat rapidly, "Give way, my lads," he cried, "give way." "What are we going to do?"
"And you think it better to go right up the river?" said Mr Brooke, turning suddenly to join in the conversation. "Yes; pilate junk long way." "How do you know?" He gave a cunning smile at us both, his little eyes twinkling in a singularly sly manner. "You see vegetable boat come along mo'ning?" "Yes, I saw the boat come alongside." "Blought Ching 'nothee lettee, allee same fliend.
"Of course we have watchful eyes in our boat, but I don't see anything yet worth watching." "He means that very likely there are friends of the pirates in one of these boats, and that we had better begin shooting, so as to take off attention from our real purpose." "Yes, allee same; p'laps pilate fliend in lit' boat go and tell Queen Victolia foleign devil sailor boy come catchee."
"Ya-as," said he. "Casey like Clyde?" "Clyde likee Casey," Feng responded knowingly. "Casey call um woman fliend. Lats! All same big Melican bluff, makee me sick. Bimeby some time she makee mally him. Bimeby baby stop. Then me quit. Me go back to China." The prophet's last words blurred in Clyde's ringing ears. The friendly darkness hid her flaming cheeks. Why, oh why, had she listened?
"Been havin' a pipe, Sin?" he asked, winking at his companion. "I can smell something like opium!" "No smokee opium," murmured Sin Sin Wa complacently. "Smokee Woodbine." "Ho, ho!" laughed the other constable. "I don't think." "You likee tly one piecee pipee one time?" inquired the Chinaman. "Gotchee fliend makee smokee." The man who had poked the fire slapped his companion on the back.
"Never mind," said Barkins; "we want to see them, and the temples and mandarins' houses." "Pliest shut up temple. Want muchee money. Mandalin call soldier man muchee, put all in plison. No good." "They'd better," cried Smith; "why, the captain would blow all the place down with his big guns." "No blow Ching fancee shop down. Englis' spoken. Good fliend." "Look here, Ching.
If come after, plenty muchee pilate fliend, and junk not vellee far." "He's right, Herrick," said Mr Brooke, nodding. "Turn up the side branch, my lads. Keep up the comedy of the shooting, and have a shot at something." "But there's nothing to shoot at, sir," I said, feeling rather doubtful of the accuracy of Ching's ideas.
This shot floored Jiro metaphorically, and his wife literally, for she sank into a heap. "He knows everything, Nummie," she cried. "Evelything!" repeated her husband. Brett scowled terribly as a subterfuge for laughter. "Tell me," he said, "why you helped this amazing scoundrel?" "I did not help," squeaked Jiro, his voice becoming shrill with excitement and fear. "He was my fliend.
I take care Miss Lolly and Miss Clist I look out. You all 'ight, you come." He threw open the door with a flourish and called in loud, glad tones, "Miss Lolly, Miss Clist, one velly good fliend come Mist Bullage." At the end of the long room Mark was aware of a small group whence issued a murmur of talk.
Las spling me hiyu sclub, hiyu wash, hiyu sweep undeh bed. All light now." "All right for man; no good for woman," Casey explained. "Two lady come stop, Feng." "Ho!" said Feng, adjusting his mind to a new situation. "You and Tom mally him?" "No," Casey responded. "One married already. Ladies all same my friends, Feng." "No good." Feng announced with certainty. "Woman fliend no good.
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