"Ye told Long Jim to do for me—didn't ye, Thirkle?" Petrak grinned, and his fingers twitched toward the butt of a pistol. I knew what was in his mind.
"What's that?" demanded Thirkle. "Oh, run along now, Red, like a good chap, and get the gold stowed. Didn't I tell ye to get Long Jim, and didn't ye get him? What more's to be said? Run along now, Reddy, and pack it away."
"That's what Long Jim said," insisted Petrak doggedly. There was murder in his eyes, while his face was livid with fear.
"Then he lied, and ye ought to take my word against his. Don't be a fool now, Reddy, like the others. Ye'll get your share, bank on that. Yer a good sort, Petrak; and I need ye to help me get it away, and we'll share and share alike, as I told ye. Do you think I'd play dirt with ye after all we've been through together, Reddy?"
"Course not. Don't mind my lip, Thirkle, old chap. No harm done, is there?"
"No harm done, Reddy," said Thirkle, glancing at me suspiciously, as if he thought I had been turning Petrak against him.
"No harm in what I say, Thirkle," and Petrak took up the end of the sack. His mistrust of Thirkle gave me an idea, which I put into play as soon as we were well inside the crevice.
"Petrak," I whispered dropping my end of the sack, and compelling him to let it down.
"What's up now?" he whispered.
"He'll kill you, too, Reddy. He's planning it out; and if you let him, he'll kill both of us before he quits this island. Are you going to let him do it, Reddy?"