Bartlett—[Grimly.] Ye’ll choke in earnest if ye don’t answer me. What d’ye see? Is it gold? Answer me—is it gold?
Abel—[Stutteringly.] Yes—sure—gold—I see it!
Bartlett—[Thrusts him away. The boy staggers and falls to the sand. Bartlett turns to Butler triumphantly.] Ye see, ye liar? Gold! Gold! Even a child can tell it at a look. [With a sombre menace in his tone.] But ye—don’t believe—do ye?
Butler—[Frightenedly.] Maybe I was wrong, sir. I—didn’t—look very careful.
Bartlett—Come here! [He stands up, his back against the tree.] Come here!
Butler—Yes, sir. [But he looks about him shiftily, as if to run away.]
Bartlett—Jimmy! [The Kanaka leaps to his feet.] Knife him, Jimmy, if he tries to run.
Jimmy—[His hand goes to his knife, his dark eyes lighting up with savagery—in his soft voice.] Aye, Captain!
Bartlett—[To the trembling cook.] Come here!
Butler—[Goes to him with the courage of desperation.] Yes, sir.