"Foot travellers!" Dan decided; but something emerged out of the dust, as
it passed through the sliprails, that looked very like a huge mould of
white jelly on horse-back.
Directly it sighted us it rolled off the horse, whether intentionally or
unintentionally we could not say, and leaving the beast to the care of
chance, unfolded two short legs from somewhere and waddled towards us - a
fat, jovial Chinese John Falstaff.
"Good day, boss! Good day, missus! Good day, all about," he said in
cheerful salute, as he trundled towards us like a ship's barrel in full
sail. "Me new cook, me - " and then Sam appeared and towed him into port.
"Well, I'm blest!" Dan exclaimed, staring after him. "What HAVE we
struck?"
But Johnny knew, as did most Territorians. "You've struck Cheon, that's
all," he said. "Talk of luck! He's the jolliest old josser going."
The "jolliest old josser" seemed difficult to repress; for already he had
eluded Sam, and, reappearing in the kitchen doorway, waddled across the
thoroughfare towards us.
"Me new cook!" he repeated, going on from where he had left off. "Me
Cheon!" and then, in queer pidgin-English, he solemnly rolled out a few
of his many qualifications:
"Me savey all about," he chanted.
