"Is it that long?" commented the Colonel, in order to say something. He had as yet no clue to the purpose of this ceremonial vist.
"You go bloke now, mebbe," continued Sing Toy, not as asking a question but as making an assertion.
"What!" responded the Colonel, blankly.
"Yes, you go bloke. I sabe. I see. Every place you stop wo'k. No have party. No paint barn. Veg'table man. Cunnel velly sad. Walk alound head down. No smile. No joke. No laugh. I sabe. I no likeum." He smiled with the hilarious cheerfulness of the Oriental who is trying to be sympathetic. "You no ketchum money at bank any more. I sabe. My cousin wo'k at bank. Dat all light. He no tell Melican man."
"Well I'll be" began the Colonel, staring with new eyes at his imperturbable servant.
"You wait," commanded Sing Toy; "I got tlee t'ousand dollar. I got no use for dat money. You take 'um. I got lots fliends, got lots money, in Chinatown. You tell me how much you want. I get 'um."
As the meaning of this speech finally reached the Colonel, he half started impulsively from his seat, then sank back, and the tears started in his eyes.
"You don't understand the situation, Sing Toy," he said. "I could offer you no security for your money—you sabe security? You might lose it all."
"China boy no want seculity," averred Sing Toy. "He know you pay all light."
The Colonel choked, and openly touched his eyes with his handkerchief, for recent events had keyed him tense. He told Sing Toy that the situation was not as bad as all that; but that he appreciated the offer, and would remember it if the need arose. Sing Toy listened with unmoved countenance, then arose.
"All light," said he. "Now you joke. You laugh," and he waddled out.
The Colonel watched his broad brocaded back as it disappeared through the doorway.
