pon Andy gave the string a strong pull which sent all the remaining
fish tumbling down on the cabinet and the floor. The noise reached Hop
Lung in the pantry, and he came forth on a run.

When he saw the quantity of fish that had appeared so miraculously he was
nearly dumbfounded. With eyes and mouth wide open and hands up-raised he
uttered a sudden yell of fright and dove through the doorway leading to
the dining room and the living room beyond.

In the living room Mrs. Rover and Mrs. Powell were sitting doing some
sewing. The sudden appearance of the Chinaman caused them to look up in
astonishment.

"What is the matter, Hop Lung?" demanded Mrs. Powell, as she sprang to
her feet.

"Flishee! Flishee!" screamed the cook. "Kitchen full flishee! Hop Lung no
knowee where flishee come! One flishee--two flishee--two flishee
more--whole blame kitchen flishee!" spluttered the cook, his eyes rolling
from one side to the other.

"Gracious me! is the man crazy?" asked Mrs. Rover, rising. "What does he
mean by 'flishee?'"

"Flishee! Flishee!" repeated Hop Lung. "No flishee--all flishee!"

"I can't imagine what he's driving at," remarked Mrs. Powell. "Where is
the trouble, Hop Lung? In the kitchen?"

"Les, Miz Plowell. Kitchen all flishee!"

Without ado the lady of the ranch marched into the kitchen, followed by
Mrs. Rover. All the ladies could see were the freshly-caught fish resting
on the cabinet shelf and the floor.

"I don't see anything the matter here except that some of your fish are
on the floor," remarked Mrs. Powell calmly. "You had better pick them up
and wash them off."

"Did the boys catch those fish?" asked Mrs. Rover. "They said they were
going fishing a couple of hours ago."

"Boys clatchee one flishee," announced Hop Lung. Then a sudden idea
entered his head, and he made a quick leap to the yard door. He was just
in time to see the boys trying to retreat, all laughing merrily.

"You foolee Hop Lung! You foolee Hop Lung!" he shrieked wildly, and of a
sudden came back into the kitchen, scooped up several of the fish, and
ran outside again. Wildly he threw one fish after another at the lads.

"Hop Lung, stop that!" commanded Mrs. Powell sternly. "Those fish are too
good to throw away!"

"Bloys fool Hop Lung," was the reply. "One flishee--two flishee--four
flishee--all whole lot flishee," he continued, trying his best to
explain. And then by pantomime he showed how he had found the first of
the fish