“Gawd, man, there’s tons of it!”
Wilson did not move or speak.
“Shiploads of it. Man! Man! wake up an’ see what’s afore yer eyes!”
“What is it, Stubbs?”
“Gold! Gold! Gold! The stuff thet outside here yer haster fight ter git a pinch of,––the stuff I’ve sailed aroun’ the worl’ ter git a handful of; the stuff ye’ve come so far on the bare chance of seein’.”
“It’s here, then? The treasure is here?”
“More than ever ye dreamed of. Small wonder that Sorez was willin’ ter take chances agin the Priest if he knew of this.”
Wilson brushed his hand over his eyes. The name roused him. This meant getting back to Sorez––getting back to him with proof of the treasure and so releasing the girl. He made his feet and stood a moment with his hand upon Stubbs’ shoulder.
“I’m glad, Stubbs,” he answered. “Now––now let’s get back to her.”
“Aye, we’ll get back, but first we’ve got ter figger out some way for gittin’ of this stuff out.”