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No one heard the order, and Fong, after opening the window, carried the tray into the dining room and left it on the table. When Lorry turned to the others, Mark had proved to Aunt Ellen that the gentleman tramp was a recognized variety of the species, and Chrystie had taken up the thread. "Did your people up there know anything about him? Did they think he was the man?" "None of them saw him.
They seek yet, where I learned the art of healing, an antidote for the cobra's bite. I know of no other they lack." "Where you were taught they must know more than we of this country know." Fong Wu gave his shoulders a characteristic shrug. "But," she continued, "you speak English so perfectly. Perhaps you were taught that in this country." "No in England. But the other, I was not." "In England!
"He come this time. You lite him nice letter." "No, I don't want to, I've enough without him. It's all made up." "I no see why plenty big loom, plenty good dinner. Velly nice boy, good boy, best boy ever come to my boss's house." "Now, Fong, don't get side-tracked. I didn't come to talk to you about the people, I came to talk about the food."
"Do you expect someone?" Lorry shook her head. She rarely expected anyone; evening callers were generally school friends of Chrystie's. Fong, muttering, was heard to pass from the kitchen. "I do hope," said Christie, "if it's some horrible bore Fong'll have sense enough to shut them in the reception room and give us a chance to escape." Chrystie, like Aunt Ellen, was fond of going to bed early.
Everybody who knows me well says I'm spoiled." "Who's spoiled you?" "Lorry and Aunt Ellen and Fong." She gave him a quick side glance, met his eyes, and they both laughed, a light-hearted mingling of treble and bass. The Italian women breathed deeply on their bench, aware that the interchanged glances and chimed laughter had advanced the romance on its happy way.
To supplement all this, Fong Wu recounted the news: the arrival of a consul in San Francisco, the raid on a slave or gambling-den, the progress of a tong war under the very noses of the baffled police, and the growth of Coast feeling against the continued, quiet immigration of Chinese.
Kirkham was invited over from town "to stay as long as she liked," and now for a week there had been visitors from up country Mrs. Burrage and Sadie. It made quite a houseful and Fong, with a new second boy to break in, was exceedingly busy. He had brushed aside Lorry's suggestion that with half the city in ruins and nobody caring what they ate, simple meals would suffice.
Mark agreed grudgingly and then they left the Alston sisters, to work out the best method of discovering what took Boye Mayer to Sacramento and what he did there. Jim proved to be a young, and as Fong had said, "awful smart boy." Smuggled into the country in his childhood, he spoke excellent English, interspersed with slang.
The old lady shrieked and clutched at her skirt. "No no, I won't allow it." Then as the girl drew her dress away, "Lorry Alston, do you want my death on your head as well as your own? If you want anything let Fong get it. He seems willing and anxious to risk his life." "Fong can't do this. I'm going to telephone; I want to find out if Chrystie's all right.
It was, declared Buddha, an affair of great moment touching upon and appertaining to the private honor of the Duck, the Wong, the Fong, the Long, the Sui and various other families, both in America and China. The life of one of their members was at stake. Their face required that the proceedings should be as dignified as possible. The price named by Mr. Tutt was quite inadequate. Mr.
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