He never once
exhibited the slightest evidence of life, and his head and face, and
the horn-rimmed spectacles, might quite easily have passed for those
of an unwrapped mummy. This was Sam Tuk.
Bending over a box upon which rested a canvas-bound package was a
burly seaman engaged in unknotting the twine with which the canvas was
kept in place. As Sin Sin Wa and Sir Lucien came in he looked up,
revealing a red-bearded, ugly face, very puffy under the eyes.
"Wotcher, Sin Sin!" he said gruffly. "Who's your long pal?"
"Friend," murmured Sin Sin Wa complacently. "You gotchee pukka stuff
thisee time, George?"
"I allus brings the pukka stuff!" roared the seaman, ceasing to fumble
with the knots and glaring at Sin Sin Wa. "Wotcher mean--pukka stuff?"
"Gotchee no use for bran," murmured Sin Sin Wa. "Gotchee no use for
tin-tack. Gotchee no use for glue."
"Bran!" roared the man, his glance and pose very menacing. "Tin-tacks
and glue! Who the flamin' 'ell ever tried to sell you glue?"
"Me only wantchee lemindee you," said Sin Sin Wa. "No pidgin."
"George" glared for a moment, breathing heavily; then he stooped and
resumed his task, Sin Sin Wa and Sir Lucien watching him in silence. A
sound of lapping water was faintly audible.
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