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"Bath-olivers and chocolate and half a water-bottle of whisky," replied the original owner. "And we shall need them." "Good enough," said Jenks. "And the padre here has plenty of sandwiches, for he ordered a double lot." "Do you play auction, padre?" queried what turned out, in the candle-light, to be a Canadian. Peter assented; he was moderately good, he knew. This fairly roused the Canadian.
We were not very formal in those days kept our hats on. There was no thought of Jenks trying to run away, for he was well-to-do; so he was given the freedom of the room. He paced nervously back and forth between my desk and the door, growing more restless as the trial proceeded. A clerk sat near me, writing a bond, and Harkins stood behind him dictating its terms.
Some men, brave to rashness, ready as he to give his life to save her, would have raced madly over the intervening ground, scarce a furlong, and attempted a heroic combat of one against nine. Not so Jenks. With the methodical exactness of the parade-ground he settled down on one knee and leveled the rifle. At that range the Lee-Metford bullet travels practically point-blank.
I would have stopped at nothing, though, to prevent you. You must keep away from there!" "And if we refuse?" asked Tom. "Then you'll have to take what comes!" "But not from you!" exclaimed Mr. Jenks. "We're going to get rid of you." The man's face showed the alarm he felt. "Oh, don't worry," said Mr. Jenks, quickly, "we're not going to toss you overboard. We're not as desperate as your crowd.
Jenks!" he called in a whisper. The diamond man, who was behind the tent, came toward Tom. "What is it?" he asked. Then, as he saw the ghostly visitor, he added: "Oh the phantom again! What's it up to?" "The same thing," replied Tom, "but it won't do it long, if my plan succeeds." "What plan is that, Tom?" "I'm going to try to capture that that man or whatever it is. Will you help?" "Surely!"
Sandy Joyce would likely have shaken his head, and declared it was the possibility of something having happened to his mare Gipsy. Toby Jenks might have had a wild idea that Bill had made his "pile" on the "crook" and was "gettin' religion."
The pain of the blow lent emphasis to the swing with which the implement descended upon some portion of a Dyak anatomy. Jenks never knew where he hit the second assailant, but the place cracked like an eggshell. He had not time to recover the bar for another blow, so he gave the point in the gullet of a gentleman who was about to make a vicious sweep at him with a parang.
They could see now that it was no shaft of light, but some white body, shaped like a tall, thin man, draped in a white garment. The long arms waved to and fro. There was no semblance of a head. "You and Mr. Parker go right toward it, slowly, Mr. Damon," advised Tom. "Mr. Jenks and I will make a circle, and get in back. Then, if it's anything alive we'll have it." The "ghost" continued to advance.
Jenks, you see, sent me a plan of the yard with a cross to mark where the treasure lies, and I'll have to hunt it up so as not to waste our time turning up the whole yard. But tomorrow night yes, tomorrow at midnight we'll start the search!" At dinner that day the rice pudding had the flavor of ambrosia. By nightfall preparations were already on foot.
"I hope you haven't been talked to death," Father Blossom said to Captain Jenks when he came to tell the children it was time to get off. "My wife and I were trying to see if we could recognize the places we knew seven years ago." "Can't give me too many children," said the captain heartily.
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