"Now we glow click, you sabe?" he said, smiling from ear to ear. "Me
know Mlister Seablury. Him number one man, top-slide," which was Hop
Sing's way of saying that anything was the very best possible.

The boys soon found that while Hop Sing might be a slow and careful
driver, it was due more to the characters of the mules, than to
anything else. The Chinese yelled at them in a queer mixture of his
own language, Mexican and American. He belabored them with a whip, and
yanked on the reins, but the animals only ambled slowly along the
sunny road, as if they had a certain time schedule, and were
determined to stick to it.

"Can't they go any faster?" asked Ned.

"Flaster?" asked Hop, innocently. "They Mlexican mules. No go flast.
Me go flast, mules not," and he began jumping up and down in his seat,
as if that would help matters any. He redoubled his yells and shouts,
and made the whip crack like a pistol, but the mules only wagged their
ears and crawled along.

"I guess you'll have to let matters take their course while you're
here," suggested the professor. "You can't change the habits of the
people, or the animals."

They did manage, after strenuous efforts on Hop's part, to get to the
Seabury bungalow. It was in the midst of a beautiful garden, and a
long walk led up to the house, around which was an adobe wall, with a
red gate. Over the gate was a roof, making a pleasant shade, and there
were seats, where one might rest.