"What's the matter?" and he snarled it. "Do I scare you?"
"You can't scare me—I'm scared already!"
Jarvis made a fencing feint at the other figure. There was no response; again he tried. Then he rushed it, and knocked the armor over.
"I guess he's genuine—and harmless."
"Oh, Marse Warren, you'se got gall, shore. I'll jest finish dis battleship—so he won't jump no moh." He had grabbed the armor and started toward the trapdoor. "I'm goin' to sink him in de harbor!"
"Don't do that—it takes a thief to catch a thief. I'll make a ghost out of you, Rusty. Come here."
Objecting, timorous, and still overcome with his native superstition, Rusty was nevertheless forced to don the armor—a sad misfit he was, at that.
"Somebody was working in this room, Rusty. It's a cinch that the treasure was here. It's a cinch that we interrupted, and it's still in its little safe-deposit vault. It's a greater cinch that if we go out he'll come back. I want to have you stand up there where the other battleship was, and watch. You'll be as safe as a church in this. No one would think of looking for one of us in this armor—so when he starts to work, whoever he is, you just yell and yell your best."
"Gawd, Marse Warren, I could yell loud 'nuff for 'em to hear me back in Kaintucky."
"You give me your best yell, and I'll nail him."