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"You must not stand out in the rain, Mrs. McLeish," said one of the men, and he urged her to come back into the hut. He said he would build a fire for her, and she and the gentleman from Edinburgh could sit down and talk over matters.
They had calculated, judging by the pieces they had sold, that the gold they had with them was worth about twelve thousand dollars, and they both thought they ought to do the right thing about it. In the first place, they tried in San Francisco to find out something about McLeish, but no one knew of such a man. They then began to consider some persons they did know about.
McLeish, and that's two pounds a week, you know, and you will have it as long as you live." "Two pounds a week!" cried the old woman, her eyes shining out of her weazened old face like two grouse eggs in a nest. "From my Andy?" "Yes, from your son," said the traveller. And as the rain was now much more than a drizzle, and as the wind was cold, he made his tale as short as possible.
If that's it, I must walk." "Had you a son, Mrs. McLeish?" said the man. "Ay," said she, and her face brightened a little. "And what was his name?" "Andy," was the answer. "And his calling?" "A sailorman." "Well, then," said the traveller in the waterproof, "there is no doubt that you are the person I came here to see. I was told I should find you here, and here you are.
He did not state for he was not acquainted with all the facts that Shirley and Burke, when they were in San Francisco hunting up the heirs of the Castor's crew, had come upon traces of the A. McLeish whose body they had found in the desert, lying flat on its back, with a bag of gold clasped to its breast that they had discovered, by means of the agent through whom McLeish had been in the habit of forwarding money to his mother, the address of the old woman, and, without saying anything to Captain Horn, they had determined to do something for her.
Of course, we must always remember," said Shirley, in finishing up his story, "that if we can find the heirs of McLeish, the money belongs to them. But, even in that case, Burke and I think we ought to keep a good share of it to pay us for getting it away from that beastly desert." Here I interrupted him. "Don't you trouble yourself any more about McLeish," I said.
"We'll no rob the poor mon," interposed McLeish, the Scotch boy, who was now on his good behavior. "It will be no robbery, McLeish. You would take but your just dues," replied the principal, with a smile. "We'll no tak it," added McLeish. "No, sir!" "No, sir!" "No, sir!" responded the students in every direction. "Not a dollar of it, sir!" said Paul, warmly.
I may as well tell you at once, Mrs. McLeish, that your son is dead." "That is no news," she answered. "I knew that he must be dead." "But I didn't come here only to tell you that. There is money coming to you through him enough to make you comfortable for the rest of your life." "Money!" exclaimed the old woman. "To me?"
"In Belgium, sir," replied McLeish, who always answered when he could, though in general knowledge he was far behind his American classmates. "What is the French name?" "La Belgique." "The German?" "Belgien." "What is the French adjective?" "Belge."
They dragged the body out of its burrow in the sand, and examined the pockets, but there was nothing in the trousers but an old knife. In the pocket of the shirt, however, were about a dozen matches, wrapped up in an old envelope. This was addressed, in a very bad hand, to A. McLeish, Callao, Peru, but they could not make out the date of the postmark.
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