Part 51 (1/2)

Ching shook his head.

”Go ask offlicer. Go for walkee walkee, take Ching; you likee see something velly nice ploper?”

”Yes,” I cried eagerly. ”Can you take us to see a Chinese theatre?”

Ching closed his eyes and nodded.

”You come 'long o' Ching, I showee something velly nice ploper.”

”All right,” I cried. ”Now, Tanner, go and try it on with the doctor.”

”No, no. Ask offlicer. Doctor only give flizzick. Velly nastee.

Ugh!”

Ching's round face was a study as he screwed it up to show his disgust with the doctor's preparations.

Barkins went off and returned directly.

”Well,” we cried; ”seen Price?” and Ching, who was squatted on the floor, looked up smiling.

”No.”

”Not seen him?”

”No; I ran against Dishy, and thought I'd ask him plump.”

”And you did?”

”Yes.”

”What did he say?”

”I know,” cried Smith; ”that we were always going out.”

”That's it exactly.”

”And he won't let us go?” I said in a disappointed tone.

”Who says so?” cried Barkins, changing his manner. ”The old chap was in splendid fettle, and he smiled,--now, now, don't both of you be so jolly full of doubts. On my honour as an officer and a gentleman, he smiled and clapped me on the shoulder.”

”Yes, my lad, of course,” he said. ”We shall be off again soon, and then it will be all work and no play again, and we mustn't make Jack a dull boy, must we?”

”He's going off his head,” said Smith.

”Let him go, then,” I cried, ”if it makes him like this.”

”Don't chatter so, Gnat,” cried Smith. ”I say, did he really say we might go?”

”Yes; and that we ought to start at once before the day grew hotter, and that we were to take great care of ourselves.”