Early next morning, Burroughs, lying awake, thinking about getting up, and worrying about Errington, heard sounds of a violent altercation in the compound outside his windows. He recognized the voice of his boy Chin Tai, raised to an indignant squeal, mingled with tones less shrill indeed, but quite as angry. The disputants were raging at each other in Chinese, the words following one upon another like the magnified twittering of birds, or, as Burroughs thought with mild amusement, like the click of typewriters. Knowing no Chinese, he was unable to follow the furious dialogue, and listened drowsily, expecting that the noise would soon subside. But presently he heard the sound of blows; the war of words had led to active hostilities. Springing out of bed, he went to the window, and saw Chin Tai wrestling with a Chinaman of most disreputable appearance--some beggar, perhaps, who had proved too importunate. A moment afterwards Chin Tai flung his opponent to the ground, knelt upon him, and clasping his hands about the man’s throat was proceeding to knock his head against the ground, when Burroughs called sharply from the window. "Get up!" he said. "What for you makee all this bobbely?" Chin Tai rose at once, trembling with rage, and for the moment unable to express himself. Released from his clutches, the other man staggered to his feet as soon as he had regained his breath; and Burroughs recognized him, with a start of amazement, as Lo San, Errington’s boy. "He come this side makee bobbely, sah," shouted Chin Tai. "He hab catchee plenty muck, no plopa come look-see massa so-fashion." "Get out of it," cried Burroughs. "Where did you come from, Lo San? Where’s Mr. Errington?" "Massa Ellington he Meichow side, sah. He belongey plison Su Fing. My come this side tellum massa; Chin Tai he belongey too-muchee sassy[#]; he say no can see massa; my come long long wailo nightey-time, velly sick inside. What time my stlong, my smash Chin Tai he ugly facee." [#] Saucy. "That’ll do. I’ll be down in a minute. Stay where you are." Burroughs made a hasty toilet, ran down into the compound, and eagerly questioned the man, who he could see was half dead with fatigue and hunger. He shouted a peremptory order to Chin Tai to bring some food, which the boy obeyed with a very bad grace. Lo San told his story, and produced the pack of cards, now bent, torn and indescribably dirty.