"To Hell and Gone out of this," they said. And Spanish Joe sang to the guitar a bitter little song about someone's señora who fled across the sea, and Chihuahua grinned at Jack's luck (Annawillee did not tell him the truth), and the Whites, Long Mac, and Shorty Gibbs and Tenas Billy and even young Tom Willett, who knew nothing about klootchmen, though some had their eye on him hopefully, said there was no knowing what any woman would do. They understood that men would do what they had a mind to. "Anyhow," said Shorty, "she was a dern sight too pretty for a golderned Siwash like Pete. Someone wuz sure to kapswalla her sooner or later. If I wuz given to klootchmen, which I ain't, thank the Lord, I'd ha' put in for her myself." But to think of such a coyoté as Jack Mottram picking up the Pearl of the River! "It would sicken a hog," said Shorty Gibbs. VII Quin might be a Squaw-Man (as indeed he was in his irregular way) but he lived in comfort, and Sam, his "boy," aged twenty-five, was a wonder, worth more dollars by far than the days of the longest months and all he could steal as well. Sam was good-looking and as clean as a fresh-run quinnat, and he had the most heavenly and ingratiating smile, and the neatest ways, and a heaven-sent gift of cooking. He was pleasant to the world and to himself, and he sang little Chinese songs as he worked and made Quin's house as clean as heaven after rain. He didn't "hit the pipe," which Wong did, of course, and he only smoked cigars. They were Quin's and good ones. Not that opium is so bad as liquor, by the way, though the missionaries say it is. It is better to "hit the pipe" than to "dlinkee for dlunk," and that's an all-solid fact. Sam was discreet, and he let no one rob Quin but himself. Indeed, he almost loved Quin, for Quin had good qualities. For example, he rarely swore in his own house, and he had a way of making little presents to Sam which were very encouraging. "Boss he makee allo tim' litty cumshaw my," said Sam. "He givee my cigar: he givee my dolla. He givee my close: makee stlong cutsom givee me all ting he no wantshee. My catchee allo tim' good close, boot, tlouser, and he speakee my velly good: neber makee bobbely. Massa Quin velly good Boss, no can catchee better. Supposee klootchman no good, makee bobbely, he say 'hyack klatawa:' supposee klootchman good klootchman allo same wifo dat velly good: Massa Quin velly good and makee mo' cumshaw my." And now there was a new klootchman. "Ho," said Sam Lung, "ho, he bling 'nodder klootchman. My tinkee 'bout time he catchee new klootchman. He velly lestless, like he got water topside, clazy. What she like this new klootchman?" He put his eye to the key-hole, and then drew up in disgust. "Fo, velly dirty, cly allo tim'. She velly litty young gal. After las' wun he likee catchee young gal. Ha, my tinkee bymby she catchee wash and look velly pletty. She whitee gal my tinkee when she catchee washee."