"Velly much lough-neck pull--dam!" answered the Chinaman.

Ned went back to the box where the Chink had been hidden and began
taking out the articles it held, slowly and one by one.

"The cloth he poured the chloroform on must be here," he said. "He
would naturally throw it into the box before shutting down the cover,
as there might still be enough of the drug in it to put the Chink to
sleep."

"Here it is," Jack said, reaching into the box and lifting out a rag
and smelling of it. "Here is the dope cloth, all right and pretty
strong yet."

"That's it, all right," Ned answered. "A worn white handkerchief,
eh?"

"Name or mark on it?" asked Jack, passing the cloth to Ned.

"Nothing of the sort," was the answer, "but there's something better.
When the fellow pulled at the Chink's greasy pigtail he got his hand
smeared with oil. Then he grasped this white cloth fiercely, and
there you are! See! The mark of the thumb couldn't be plainer if it
had been printed on. Observe the long cicatrice on the ball of the
thumb? I'll take this down and photograph it."

"Tall, strong, blonde, scar on the thumb!" laughed Jack. "We are
getting on."

"It would be interesting to know how he got into the house," Ned