The sugar-cane vendor eyed the other shrewdly. What was the gossip he had heard concerning Fa'ng, the famous old hatchetman? Was it not that the old man was always hungry? Yes, that was it! Fa'ng, whose long knife and swift arm had been the most feared thing in all Chinatown, was starving—too proud to beg, too honest to steal.
"You have eaten well, venerable Fa'ng?" The inquiry was in a casual tone, respectful.
"Aih, I have eaten well," replied the old hatchetman, averting his face.
"How unfortunate for me! I have not yet eaten my rice; for when one must dine alone, one goes slowly to table. Is it not written that a bowl of rice shared is doubly enjoyed? Would you not at least have a cup of tea while I eat my mean fare?"
"I shall be honoured to sip tea with you, estimable Bow Sam," replied the hatchetman with poorly disguised eagerness.

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