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The man watched him now in silence, only broken by exclamations of "Blimey" and "Flaming hell" when more shot was discovered. The tests concluded: "Gotchee some more?" asked Sin Sin Wa. From the canvas wrapping George took out and tossed on the counter a square packet wrapped in grease-paper. "H'm," murmured Sin Sin Wa, "Patna. Where you catchee?" "Off of a lascar," growled the man.
Sin Sin Wa, crooning his strange song, came in carrying a coil of rope and a Mauser pistol! "P'licemanee gotchee catchee sleepee," he murmured, "or maybe he catchee die!" He tossed the rope to his wife, who stood silent tapping the floor with one slim restless foot. "Number one top-side tie up," he crooned. "Sin Sin Wa watchee withum gun!"
"Why do you allow them, strangers, coming here to-night!" Ah-Fang-Fu continued complacently to arrange the cards. "S'pose hab gotchee pidgin allee samee Chunda Lal hab got? Fo-Hi no catchee buy bled and cheese for Ah-Fang-Fu. He" nodding casually in the direction of Bill Bean "plitty soon all blissful." "Be very careful, Ah-Fang-Fu," said Chunda Lal tensely. He lowered his voice.
"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.
"I knew I was going to scream!" The eye of Sin Sin Wa turned momentarily in her direction, but otherwise he did not stir a muscle. "Are you ready for us, Sin?" asked Sir Lucien. "All ready. Lola hate gotchee topside loom ready," replied the Chinaman in a soft, crooning voice. "Go ahead, Kilfane," directed Sir Lucien.
"He understood my first question. You can't draw wool over my eyes. He knows well enough. Are you going to answer me?" he demanded, angrily, of the Chinaman. "No sabby, master," he said, glancing aside at Colin Camber. "Number- one p'licee-man gotchee no pidgin."
"No, no," said Sin Sin Wa. "He is a brave man; he comes alone." He paused, and then suddenly resumed in pidgin English: "You likee killa him, eh?" Perhaps unconscious that she did so, Mrs. Sin replied also in English: "No, I am mad. Let me think, old fool!" She dropped the stiletto and raised her hand dazedly to her brow. "You gotchee tired of knifee chop, eh?" murmured Sin Sin Wa. Mrs.
"D'you think I'm going to wait 'ere while you prods about in all the blasted lot? It's damn near high tide I shan't get out. 'Alf time! Savvy? Shove it on the scales!" Sin Sin Wa shook his head. "Too muchee slick. Too muchee bhobbery," he murmured. "Sin Sin Wa gotchee sabby what him catchee buy or no pidgin." "What's the game?" inquired George menacingly.
My visitor, who wore a slop-shop suit, also wore a wide-brimmed bowler hat; now, the set bland smile still upon his yellow face, he removed the bowler and pointed significantly to his skull. His pigtail had been severed some three inches from the root! "You gotchee my pigtail," he explained; "me callee get it thank you." "Thank you," I said grimly.
She laughed hoarsely and tossed her head. "Who told you that?" she asked contemptuously. "It was the doll-woman who killed him I have said so." "You tella me so hoi, hoi! But old Sin Sin Wa catchee wonder. Lo!" he extended a yellow forefinger, pointing at his wife "Mrs. Sin make him catchee die! No bhobbery, no palaber. Sin Sin Wa gotchee you sized up allee timee." Mrs.
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