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Reddy, ye know the devil as I do; jind now he's got this pile he'll settle us when he sees his way to it." "Let him go, Bucky; let him go. The night'll be on us in an hour or so, and then what'll we do? Leave it to Thirkle and it'll come out all right; and I know it and you know it, Bucky. There's the two of us to him, and we'll make him play it fair now."
"I was down well clear of ye and waiting for ye." "Then how come ye under my bleedin' feet. Mind yer eye now, or the two of 'em'll be down on us. That mate is a bad un, I tell ye, Bucky bad as the nigger in the Southern Cross. No end of trouble with him, if ye remember as I do." "Aw, stow the gab," whispered Buckrow, "We're working now. Mind what yer about. I've got another gun from Thirkle."
A man's in a bad way when the shadow of the gallows falls across his bows and the priest begins to pray. I looked for a better end for ye than that, Petrak; but go ahead and take his advice, and see where ye come to." "Don't mind him, Reddy," said Buckrow hoarsely. "Pass the bottle and let the old devil croak. You stick to Bucky." "Now, here's where I stand," went on Thirkle.
I know what I'm talkin' about, if ye don't. Go ahead and side with Thirkle if ye like." "That was silver, Bucky. Gold don't rust like that. I always knew gold don't rust, and now Thirkle says it don't, and Thirkle knows, as he always did. Mind we always asked Thirkle?" "I'm not asking him any more if ye want to know, vote or no vote.
He was smoking a cigar and looking at Thirkle. Behind them were piled the sacks of gold, close to a wide crack in the cliff, a sort of cañon, wide enough for a man to enter, and overgrown at the top with brush and green fronds, for the cliffside was wet and dripping, and veiled with mosses. "Got it in yer old skull that Bucky was a fool, hey?" said Buckrow, blowing a cloud of smoke at Thirkle.
Fine gent ye'd be, with all of us dead here, and nobody to ever tell who Thirkle was, or about the Kut Sang, or the others. "Get away in the boats, ye would, and come back some day for the gold and then cut it for London, prayin' yer way out of the country, and folks'd wonder what come of the Devil's Admiral and his crew when no more ships was lost the way we made 'em go."
"We'll give him a gamble for the whole pot now, and I think it's time they got a run for their money. In my way of thinking they have had it too easy." "That's business," said Riggs. "Doggone my cats, but we'll give 'em some lead to go with the gold or my name ain't Riggs! We'll find out if this Devil's Admiral, or Thirkle, or the Rev.
Keeping well hidden in the bamboo and grass I crept to a high spot, and right under the edge of the cliff I saw Thirkle sitting on a sack of gold, with his hands across his knees, holding a piece of rope and gazing down at it as if in doubt what to do with it. His bare, bald head was bowed low. Buckrow was lying in front of him, with his chin propped in his hands.
The money I gave that little devil was for bringing my bag on board, and he told you that I paid him for killing Trego so that Meeker, or Thirkle, would get me out of the way. I tell you that I am not with that gang. Give me a gun, and I'll help you in this fight." "Who's that dead man on the deck?" he asked. "How come you down here?" "That's Harris. Thirkle and Buckrow killed him." "Thirkle!
"I don't deny ye served me a turn in Hong-Kong, Bucky, and that's why I was to play fair and above board with ye here. Ye think ye know me, and who I am, and who I was, but ye don't, Bucky, and if ye did ye'd have more thought about what yer up to here. Thirkle I'm known as, and as Thirkle I'll die, and I'm rough in my ways and language because I have fallen into those ways with my men.
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