But shouts came from two outlaws in the garret who had been reaching down behind the rafters.
“Gold—gold!” they shouted. “We’ve found it. We ain’t clean dished.”
The outlaws in the front room surged into the hall, and yelled as the finders came jumping down-stairs. The group at the foot of the stairs stood back to give passage, and the finders rushed through into the front room, followed eagerly by the crowd.
Nate Crosby threw upon the table a stout, heavily-filled stocking, drew his sheath-knife, severed the stocking just below where it was tied, and poured the contents out upon the table.
“Stand back,” said the leader, “whilst I count and divide.”
The group very willingly stood back, formed a circle about the table, and grinned and chuckled as the coins were counted.
“One hundred and eighty pounds, all told.”
The leader counted out a pile to each man, setting up the coins as he did so. And when this was done, he handed each man his pile. “The other booty,” he said, “goes into the common lot.”
“And now, my rovers,” continued the leader, “no more marauding for this day. Back to our boat, forthwith.”
“Good-day, Dame Molly. Your hospitality has been right well enjoyed;” and hurrying out of the house, the outlaws struck into a run for the landing.