Peth went back to the bar and leaned against it as if he had made up his mind not to move until Jarrow reached some decision.
"By the Mighty Nelson, I've got a twist in my chains to take a run over to the hotel!"
"Shoot," said Peth, displaying more interest than he had at any time since Dinshaw had arrived.
"Come along, Peth," said Jarrow. "I'll git into some fresh duds, and you brail yerself up to look smart, and we'll drift over in a carromata. Will you wait here, Dinshaw?"
"I'll wait, Jarrow, I'll wait. Tell him I sent ye, and he'll know. It's all settled right enough if you lay alongside and make fast, and no time lost."
"See that he don't git away," Jarrow whispered to Vanderzee. "I can't take no chances with this—and keep him quiet—in there."
Pointing to the alcove, Jarrow slipped out through the door, followed by Peth, close at heel, like a well-trained dog behind his master.
"It's this way," said Jarrow, as they made their way between the bales and barrels among the workers on the Mole. "Maybe Looney give 'em hot shot about this island and they're keen to go, thinkin' there's bunches of gold there, which I know ain't so. But it don't matter if we git a charter at fifty a day or so, and drag it out into a couple of weeks."
"We'll want our own crew," suggested Peth.
"Bevins," said Jarrow.