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Likely he has an agreement with the black gang to stick to the fireroom; but whatever it is he won't keep his word. It's death for every man Jack of 'em when he has finished with 'em." Long Jim was plying the needle again, and Buckrow and Thirkle were holding a conference at the wheel and studying a chart.
Something in his tones a suggestion of suspicion that everything was not right thrilled me. Petrak did not hear him as he was fumbling with the block in the sand and muttered about a jammed rope. "Petrak!" "Aye," said Petrak. "I'll give ye a hand next minute, sir." "Come here," commanded Thirkle with a hand on a pistol. "What's up?" demanded Petrak, getting to his feet.
I'm no gent to fool with, as ye ought to savvy by this; and if ye think I be, try something." But, for all his warning, I was ready to risk death if I saw the chance to make a fight. I hoped that Thirkle would give him more of the brandy, but Thirkle kept the bottle to himself.
"It will be a fine joke," said Thirkle in a low tone, as if speaking to himself. "They do love to hang a red-headed man! Poor Petrak! They'll have a great joke with him Oh, ye there, Petrak, my lad! Well, I'm sorry for ye; but ye can't blame me if Bucky gets ye in a jam.
Black devil!" said Thirkle in a quiet, matter-of-fact way, and then he began to sob and squirm; but the figure that had come up like a jack-in-the-box held him pinned across the gunwale, with his shoulders and arms inside the boat, and his legs writhing and thrashing in the dead palm-leaves. "What's wrong, Thirkle? What's wrong?" wailed Petrak.
"Let them come," I said. "Are there any more weapons in the ship?" "I've got a few guns stowed where even Thirkle couldn't find 'em, or at least Harris hid some away. Always afraid of mutiny, he was, and he got one with a vengeance, poor chap. It's my ticket to a penny whistle we'll find Thirkle and his men on the island." "Then you'll go after them, captain?"
"Give him a dirty insult, Bucky," whispered Thirkle. "Give it to him hard or the old master will argue him out of coming down." "Come down, ye swine! Come down ye low-born coward and take me if ye can. That's what I say to ye. It's me, Buckrow, foremast hand that's talkin' to the mate of the Kut Sang, who's a dog."
"They have got the gold, and the next move will be to get away with it in the boats after they have opened her sea-valves, and down we'll go with the old Kut Sang." "But what makes you think we have this Devil's Admiral aboard?" I asked. "Thirkle is supposed to be the name of the Devil's Admiral." "And Thirkle is " "Our Rev. Luther Meeker, Mr. Trenholm. We are dead men."
"When I'm a sailor I'm as sailors are, and when I'm a parson I know how to play it, but ye've never seen me as a fine gentleman. Maybe ye'd like to know who I was before I was Thirkle and got to be the Devil's Admiral, as they call me for the want of something better, seeing I have played my game careful and kept them all in the dark." "It's naught to me who ye was or are, Thirkle.
Yer sharp, Thirkle; ye always was a sharp one, but ye ain't sharp enough for Bucky, and it's me that's tellin' ye that." Thirkle made no reply, but kept his head down, staring at the rope in his hands, as if he were considering some weighty problem. "Wanted it all, hey?" went on Buckrow. "Think I'm goin' to put my neck in a rope for ye and then let ye hog it all, hey?
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