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"Six months' time in here'll have this stuff with whiskers on it like a Singapore tramp that hasn't been docked in a dog's age." "I say gold don't rust," persisted Petrak. "How about it, Thirkle? Does gold rust? I say it don't, and Bucky says it do." "You're right, Reddy, but don't quarrel now," said Thirkle. "It won't rust because gold doesn't rust."
"Told ye to do for me, hey?" "That was the lay," said Petrak. "Told me he'd send ye down the trail with me, and to keep drawed up close to ye; and when I see my chance to hook a knife into ye, and be sure and make a clean job of it. "But I'm no man for that, Jim. Mind when ye split a bob with me in Riccolo's boardin'-house in St. Paul's Square?
Harris, to be buried in the morning. That's all. Double irons, Mr. Harris." "I never done for him, and that gent knows it," wailed Petrak, as Harris put his hand on his shoulder to take him away. To my amazement, Petrak pointed his finger at me. "What's that?" said Riggs sharply. "Tell all you know, my good man," said Meeker despite the caution Riggs had given him about interfering.
"Blow me if I didn't forget about the gold!" said Petrak, laughing. "But I meant it the way of shipmates, Jim: and that's why I couldn't do for no such as he said. 'Hook yer knife in him, quick and sharp, under the kidneys, says Thirkle to me. He says he'll make a gent of me, being as there would be only himself and Bucky and me left.
I even found something queer in the killing of the boatswain of the Kut Sang at the Flagship Bar, and began to wonder if Petrak did not have a hand in the murder, even though he was so ready with a denial when I spoke to him about it.
"I have a mind to turn you over to the police," I told him, expecting him to take alarm and run away, for I was not so sure he had not had a hand in the murder of the sailor in the Flagship Bar. The cochero had pulled up his horse on the mole in the thick of the scattered cargo, and Petrak still clung to the stanchion supporting the canvas-top of the carriage.
Petrak looked at Thirkle as if in doubt about Buckrow's sanity, and Thirkle gave him a look that seemed to me to be a message, and he made a furtive signal which I was not able to interpret. "Steady as she goes, mates; steady as she goes," purred Thirkle. "This is no time to quarrel. We'll have a gunboat down on us if we don't get away soon, and there's a lot to do yet before we leave.
I had a gleeful picture of myself challenging Thirkle in the dark, and urging him and Buckrow, Long Jim, and Petrak, to come and take me, telling them at the same time that I would give them shot for shot, and cautioning my imaginary force to hold fire until the enemy was close at hand.
Thirkle, if we get clear away from this island to-night. We can't swear there won't be no moon, and, moon or no, we want to be out of the jungle and at the boats by sundown. And what's the game with the writin' chap here? I'm minded to have him do a bit of this work." "Gold don't rust, do it, Thirkle?" asked Petrak. "I told Bucky gold don't rust but he don't like the water in there."
"Fool or not, gold don't rust, I'm telling ye Buck " "Then take that from a fool!" And Buckrow struck him square in the face with his fist, hurling him back on my shoulders, so that I fell forward on my hands. "That's rotten mean, Bucky," I heard Petrak whining. "That's rotten mean in here in the dark, Bucky." "That is rotten mean, Petrak," said Thirkle indignantly.
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