"Yes," Alan commented, "I suppose you'd like to keep 'em to put around on the mantel-piece and look at, wouldn't you?"
"You are just the same, aren't you!" Jane remarked.
That evening at sunset, when the boys had gleefully changed into hastily purchased clothes and dined leisurely off a meal in which everything but rice figured, they all went out upon the bund to stroll and talk yet a little more.
"I wonder what will become of Chun Lon?" Jane mused.
"There he lies now, for all I know or care," Mark said, "in his precious dead city. I suppose his boat-coolies untied him when they woke up, and everybody was in a frightful stew."
"He won't find Shanghai a hospitable spot," (Mr. Bolliver said, "nor another job as mess-boy so easy to get. Tyler'll see to that. And if the Sikhs ever get him, he'll bewail the day he met you."
"Think of its being all over," Alan sighed.
"And the old thing coming true after all," Mark added.
"What old thing?" asked Jane.
