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ABOARD THE "MUANG-FANG"
vanished, left it smooth, cool, intellectual. Pillowed on a snaky tangle of queue, Ho Kong stared upward in blank innocence. From the bunk, the cat glowered at them both.
"Chop-chop!" growled Scarlett. "You speakee!" He pressed the sword-point harder, twirled it slightly.
"Yai-eee!" squealed the thief. "Yai-eee! Pleasse ik-scusse me! I b'long Chlistian boy! Bling kim off! I talkee You Honour all velly good!"
Scarlett maintained his pressure. The captive writhed.
"I-I come walkee here," he moaned, "wantchee catch him cat. You Honour pleasse ik-scusse me. I hop you?—ah velly well. Cat he b'long my fa-tha. You savee fa-tha? You Honour fliend—big man, Bolkoman, he steal cat. My fa-tha he talkee my—'Go
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