"Listen to reason, messmate," said the sailor, with a touch of rude friendliness in his lowered tone. "There ain't no sense in keeping mum with us. If you won't speak, you'll swing at the yard-arm along with t'other cove in a brace of shakes; if you will, you'll get a chance whether or no. Besides, what good do you think you can do? We know all that's worth knowing. Anything you tell us'll make less trouble in at the homestead—not more."
"All right," said Engelhardt, faintly. "Let me sit down; I'll tell you anything you like."
"That's more like. Take my place, then you'll be stern-on to that poor devil. Now then, Bill, fire away. The little man's hisself again."
"Good for him," growled Bill. "Look at me, you stuck pig, and answer questions. Where's that chest?"
"In the store."
"Didn't I say so! Never been shifted! Whereabouts in the store?"
"Inside the counter."
"Much of a chest to bust into?"
"Two locks, and clamps all over."
"Where's the keys?"