"Old Thirkle's all right," he said weakly, as if he felt the truth of what I said, but lacked courage to attack Thirkle.

"Reddy, he'll kill you!" I went on, seeing that I was on the right track, and that fear of death at Thirkle's hands was uppermost in his mind.

He had caught enough in Thirkle's manner since the death of Buckrow to see that he was not going to get a just division of the loot, at the very least, and, knowing the ruthlessness of his master, he had doubts about escaping with his life. Besides, I believed he had been tempted by the thought that he might kill Thirkle and then have it all to himself.

"He told Long Jim to kill you? Don't you see the way the devil had it planned to get rid of you? He planned to kill you all, once he had this gold on the island. You should never have come back after I shot Long Jim. Why did you come back? You know he'll kill you."

"I wanted to see where they hide the gold, that's what. Then, when I raised you there in the gra.s.s it come in my head to grab ye, and come in for my share of the gold, seeing Long Jim was done for."

His friendly mood encouraged me, but, if I let him ramble on with his own affairs, I would not be able to convince him that Thirkle was plotting to slay him. So I began with him again.

"Thirkle will kill the both of us. You heard what he said about being a gentleman. He has been an officer in the navy, Reddy, and he won't want you or any other man to know he was a pirate when he goes back to London.

He wouldn't feel safe if he let you live. He cares no more for you than he did for Buckrow or Long Jim--you ought to know that."

"Oh, Thirkle is all right," he said in a way that exasperated me.

"He wouldn't look at you twice in London or anywhere else. He'll rid himself of you as soon as he needs you no more, which will be as soon as the gold is stowed and he has a boat in the water. Now is your chance if you ever had it."

"Thirkle is all right."

"He had it planned to kill Buckrow. Then he argued the two of you into letting him go. Can't you see that he is playing the game to have it all for himself? Are you going to be a fool all your life, man?"

"Then ye'd do for me after I done for him," he said.

"Give me a gun and cut me loose and I'll shoot him myself and I'll see that you get your share of the gold, which you won't from him. You can have it all if you'll let me kill him, and if he kills me you can say I cut my hands loose and grabbed a gun. You don't stand to lose anything--come on. Cut me loose and I'll take the chance you don't dare to."

"Thirkle's all right," he droned, picking up the sack again. "I know your game--ye want to do for the both of us and have it all for yourself. Fine job that would be! Nice I'd look givin' you a gun, wouldn't I! Lay on that sack."

"He's all very pleasant now," I went on as I stooped for the rope. "Wait until he has finished with us and the gold is packed, and then see what will happen--you'll wish you had listened to me."

"Pipe down with that," he growled, and I saw the uselessness of trying to make the lout see reason. I now began to fear that he would tell Thirkle what I had said to him.

When we went out for another sack, Petrak looked over at Thirkle and hesitated as if he wanted to say something, but Thirkle was writing in a little book, with a pistol between his feet.

"Well, what is it now?" he demanded truculently, having seen something suspicious in Petrak's manner. "What's the lay now? What have ye got yer hand so close to that gun for? Take a shot at me if you want--go on, take a shot at old Thirkle, if ye're that game."

"Only a habit o' mine, keepin' my gun well for'ard, Thirkle," whimpered Petrak, shivering. "I have to keep a close eye on the writin' chap, Thirkle. No offence, I hope."

"Look lively now, lad," said Thirkle, turning amiable again, but only to rea.s.sure Petrak. "Here's the last of it and get it away and we'll get under way."

We carried another sack in and I waited until we were at the far end and had dumped it before I began again with Petrak. I knew his natural treachery was near the surface, and it needed but little urging to bring him to the point when he would turn against Thirkle.

"We might as well say good-bye now," I said as mournfully as I could.

"You remember I treated you pretty well in Manila, and I'm sorry for you now. It doesn't matter much with me how I end now, because Thirkle has the drop on me, but I'm sorry for you--you ought to have your share of it, and Thirkle ought to play fair with you, but he won't. That devil out there will kill us both in the next ten minutes unless you give me a gun and let me kill him. I'm not afraid of him--give me a gun!"

"Thirkle ain't bad," he said, as if trying to convince himself that he was not afraid of Thirkle. "He ain't bad--he said he'd play fair with me, and he will."

I laughed gently.

"Yes, he'll play fair--with himself. He's out there now putting down directions for getting back here--alone. Give me a gun, and let me free, and I'll kill him for you. When I've settled him I'll call you, and if he gets me it's all the same--except that you'll lose in the end.

"But with me you have a chance to win--can't you see that? You haven't a chance with Thirkle. If he gets me, don't trust him--shoot him the minute you can get the muzzle of your pistol on him. If you let me try you have two chances at him, and you can kill me if you choose afterward--or give me a knife if you don't dare to let me have a gun."

"He'll do for ye. Not a chance for ye with Thirkle in gun-play."

"But give me a chance to fight for my life," I pleaded. "If I can put him out of the way, so much the better for you; but it's death for both of us if we go on this way. Give me a gun, and I swear I'll let you go free if we ever get off this island."

"He'll kill you and then come and get me," he whined. "There ain't a chance to get Thirkle as easy as that. He'll do for me if you take a shot at him."

"Of course he will if we stand here and argue about it until it is too late!" I stormed at him. "Pa.s.s me a gun--don't be a fool, Reddy. Quick!

Cut these ropes from my hands and give me a pistol and let me show you how to draw your Mr. Thirkle's teeth!"

CHAPTER XX

THE LAST

"What's all this social chatter between you two?" demanded Thirkle from the entrance to the crevice. I did not know how much he had overheard, but I determined to make one more effort to get the pistol.

"Quick," I whispered to Petrak. "Hand me the gun and free my hands!"

"It ain't me," whined Petrak. "It's the writin' chap here. Get along out," and he struck me over the head and I knew I had lost, although there was a doubt that Petrak would ever have given me the pistol.

"What's he up to now, Reddy? What's the nice young man trying to do?"

"Wanted to do for ye, that's what, Thirkle. Wanted a gun, but he got no gun from me. Said you wouldn't play fair with me, Thirkle, but I said ye would."

"So ye want to take a hand in things here, do you, Mr. Trenholm?" said Thirkle as I came out. "Still got an idea you can beat old Thirkle at his own game. Learning new tricks, I see. Before long ye'd be ready to boss the job. Didn't take ye long to forget what I told ye of the other smart chap who wanted to settle me and take command himself, did it?"

"You stick to your pen and typewriter, Mr. Trenholm, and let me run my own crew--nice pirate ye'd make, with silk underwear and a typewriter,"

and he and Petrak laughed loudly at the joke,

"I told him you would kill him, and so you will," I said, mustering as much defiance as I could under the circ.u.mstances.

"Kill Mr. Petrak here! Ha, ha, ha! Why, he's my partner, Mr. Petrak is, and we're going to share this gold together, share and share alike, as gentlemen do."

"He wanted to do for ye, Thirkle," said Petrak, flattered by his master and unable to see the sly sarcasm of Thirkle in his joy at being a.s.sured of his position, and of getting his share of the gold. "I never give him the chance, Thirkle. Now if it was some--say Buckrow or Long Jim, they might give him a gun, but not Petrak. Ye know I ain't the kind to turn on a pal, Thirkle, and I say you stick to me and I'll stick to you, come what do. Ain't that right, Thirkle?"

"Reddy, yer true blue," and he took Petrak's hand and shook it vigorously, and patted the little rat on the back. "Stick to Thirkle and Thirkle will stick to you like a Dutch uncle, and never mind what Mr.

Trenholm has to say. He's not in this, or won't be long, and it won't be many days before we are counting out the gold between us.

"I've got enough five-pound notes here to buy the little yacht, and I'll take some of the gold, but not much. We'll be back here before the month is out, all slick and snug, and then away for London."

"I'll stick like paint, Thirkle; lay to that," said Petrak, grinning at me. "I knew he was on the wrong course when he come that gun talk to me, and I told him Thirkle was all right, and that I knowed ye better than him, and so I do--hey, Thirkle?"

"You had better give me your pistols until you are done, Reddy. Ye can't trust these gentlemen who write--they have too much imagination, and they are too foxy for men like you and me, Reddy. There's no telling what he might do in there if you have guns and knives on ye. Pa.s.s 'em over, Reddy, or he'll do for us yet."