Chief Takyak motioned Bobby to his side.
“Sit here, on the bed,” he commanded in his queer English. “I want you close. I have much to say and I must save my strength. I must hurry.” He said the last words in a chattering whisper and glanced fearfully at the closed door.
Bobby watched him with a mixture of pity, curiosity and excitement. He liked the old Eskimo and he also felt sure that it was through no desire of Takyak’s that he and his friends were treated so harshly on the ship.
“Any minute we may be interrupted,” went on the sick man, pressing a hand to his side as though suffering intolerably. “And I may die, too, and take my secret with me. Instead, I hope to give it to you.”
He drew in his breath sharply and Bobby saw a spasm of pain cross his white face.
“Take your time,” he urged. “If it hurts you to talk—”
“It is nothing,” the man interrupted in a husky voice, feebly waving an impatient hand. “It is my heart that makes the pain. Soon it will have a good long rest. It will stop forever. That’s why I must hurry. Listen”—he leaned closer and Bobby was conscious of a thrill of excitement as the old man’s face became tense—“you must save the treasure from the wrecked ship. You must keep it from Captain Garrish.” He paused, smothered a groan as another spasm of pain swept him.
“The treasure?” repeated Bobby excitedly. “You want me to save the treasure. But how?”
“Hush, hush. Do not raise your voice. They will hear you.”
The Eskimo was in a panic of fear, and despite his wild excitement and curiosity Bobby did his best to quiet him.