Ferris looked Remo up and down. "Keep him away from me, then. I don't swing that way."
"Can we have a little privacy, please?" Remo asked.
"Sure thing," said Ferris D'Orr, hanging a Do Not Disturb sign on the lab door and slamming it behind him.
"The treasure house?" Chiun asked low-voiced. "Did you lock it behind you?"
"Double-locked. I left Pullyang in charge."
"Pah! Better you had staked one of the village dogs at the door. A dog does not bray at lame jokes."
"What's eating you? Will you tell me that?"
Chiun reached into his breast pocket and extracted a red leather wallet "Look," he said.
Remo looked.
"A woman's wallet. So what?"
"It is a woman's?" asked Chiun, surprised. "I chose it because it was the most appealing in color."
"A man's wallet is never red. Black or brown. Never red."
"I almost bought a green one," Chiun said hopefully, with a silver clasp."
"Woman's,"
"Oh," said Chiun. "Then show me your wallet."
"I don't have one. I threw it away when I knew I wasn't coming back to America. Or so I thought."
"Then do not insult my fine American wallet if do not have one of your own. This will serve me well, for it carries something that is priceless."
"Gold?"
"Better than gold," said Chiun.
"Am I dreaming, or did you say better than gold?" The Master of Sinanjaa extracted a gold-colored plastic card from the otherwise empty wallet. "Behold." Remo took the card.
"American Express," he said. On the card was embossed the name M.O.S. Chiun. "M.O.S.?"
"Master of Sinanju," Chiun replied. "I wanted it to read 'Reigning Master of Sinanju,' in acknowledgment of your current status as subordinate Master, but there was not enough room on the card, so I had to settle."
"I didn't know I was supposed to be subordinate Master. Is that my title?"
"I just made it up," Chiun admitted. "But let me explain how this wonderful American invention works." Remo was about to say that he already knew, but realized that Chiun would go on anyway, so he shut his mouth to save time.
"Instead of money, you give this card to merchants in return for services."
"Oh really?" Remo said.
"Oh, I know that does not seem like much," said the Master of Sinanju, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "But that is not the wondrous thing."
"What is?"
"They always give the card back."
"They always give-"
"Shhhh," said Chiun. "I do not want this to get out. Then everyone will go to Smith for one of these wondrous cards."
"Can't have that," Remo said.
"It is better than gold. You give a merchant gold and what happens?"
"He bites it to see if it's real," said Remo, thinking of the cabdriver who had brought him to this precious moment in life.
"Exactly. Because he has your gold. But unlike gold, merchants in America do not get to keep this card. They put it through crude machines or copy down the unnecessary numbers which for some reason are on my wondrous card. And then they give it back. Some of them even say thank you."
"Imagine that. They must not know how you're putting one over on them."
The Master of Sinanju drew himself up haughtily. "I am doing nothing of the kind, Remo. I give them the card. They give it back. How am I at fault if the merchants of America are so feeble-witted that they cheat themselves at every turn?"
"You have a point there, Little Father. But maybe it isn't what you think."
"Do you know something I do not, Remo?"
"Let's go see Smith. He'll explain it."
"I cannot. I am here on important service to the Generous Emperor Smith, Dispenser of American Express."
"Last week he was Mad Harold."
"He has changed, Remo. Surely you noticed."
"He did look grayer, at that."
"He has many burdens. Burdens whiten the hair." And the Master of Sinanju made a point of stroking his snowy beard.
"I was talking about his face."
"He is not ill?" squeaked Chiun.
"He has problems. But never mind that now. What's this about your returning to service?"
"It is true. I am bound to serve Generous Harold another year."