"Money! Oh, yes."
Lae Choo nodded her head.
"I have not got the money to give him."
For a moment Lae Choo gazed wonderingly from one face to the other; then, comprehension dawning upon her, with swift anger, pointing to the lawyer, she cried: "You not one hundred man good; you just common white man."
"Yes, ma'am," returned James Clancy, bowing and smiling ironically.
Hom Hing pushed his wife behind him and addressed the lawyer again: "I might try," said he, "to raise something; but five hundred—it is not possible."
"What about four?"
"I tell you I have next to nothing left and my friends are not rich."
"Very well!"
The lawyer moved lesiurely toward the door, pausing on its threshold to light a cigarette.
"Stop, white man; white man, stop!"
Lae Choo, panting and terrified, had started forward and now stood beside him, clutching his sleeve excitedly.
"You say you can go to get paper to bring my Little One to me if Hom Hing give you five hundred dollars?"
