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Thirkle had been drinking of the brandy, and was in a jolly mood, and he had given Petrak a good swig of it to lighten the little rascal's feet, but I refused the bottle when it was offered to me, for, low as my spirits were, and racked as my body was, I could not come to accept their ghastly hospitality.
I had made a fine mess of my scouting trip, but found some excuse for myself in the fact that I did right in following Long Jim and Petrak, and had a good reason to believe that they were going to the pirate camp. I tried to reason out the significance of the three shots I had heard. They might mean that Captain Riggs had fired on Thirkle, or that Thirkle had fired on him.
"Oh, run along now, Red, like a good chap, and get the gold stowed. Didn't I tell ye to get Long Jim, and didn't ye get him? What more's to be said? Run along now, Reddy, and pack it away." "That's what Long Jim said," insisted Petrak doggedly. There was murder in his eyes, while his face was livid with fear. "Then he lied, and ye ought to take my word against his.
As I have already remarked, I can't see any argument that would lead you to let me walk away from here unless I tell you, as you told Petrak and Buckrow, that you'll hang." "Now, tut, tut! You can't play my game. I thought you had more originality than that. You know too much now, and it would be premature to tell the story of the Kut Sang for several years.
"That's kind of you, although you upset dramatic conventions and I will find it rather hard, I am afraid, to be a competent critic. Besides, I might be prejudiced, having a personal interest in the outcome." "That won't matter much," he smiled. "My critics are always short-lived. Bucky there came nearest to getting me, though. If it hadn't been for Petrak I never could have handled him.
They struck the remnant of the storm-apron and rattled to the fore-deck, some of the glittering disks pelting Thirkle, who was halfway up the ladder. Petrak threw out his hand to catch the coins, and I saw that his wrists were still encircled by steel bands. Thirkle reprimanded them, and Petrak went back to the wheel, and Buckrow and Long Jim hoisted the sack into the boat and stowed it.
"Sure," said Petrak. "Here's my paw on it, Bucky, and good luck to us and long life and merry times. That's a heap of gold for two, Bucky." "Shake for a square show," said Buckrow, and the two villains shook hands across my body. I had closed my eyes again, but peeped through partly opened lids as often as I dared.
But he had sent Petrak ahead of him to listen at the door in case I telephoned the company to verify the first message; Petrak had heard me ask the company for the sailing time and was about to report to Meeker when I opened the door upon him. Meeker was probably at the foot of the stairs and covered the retreat of his henchman.
But I was with him when we freighted the Kut Sang with adventure and sailed out of Manila, so his musty records of rescues and wrecks lacked life for me. In the old logbooks I found no men to compare with the Rev. Luther Meeker; or Petrak, the little red-headed beggar; or Long Jim or Buckrow or Thirkle.
"Aye, half of it, of course, Red. Reef that jaw of yours now, lad, and clap on. Don't stand there like a Jew and wrangle over the loot. Want to stop and count it now, lad?" "Ye told Long Jim to do for me didn't ye, Thirkle?" Petrak grinned, and his fingers twitched toward the butt of a pistol. I knew what was in his mind. "What's that?" demanded Thirkle.
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